#percival de roll/vax’ildan

[shsy7573]

Help. What the actual fuck is my brain?

I watched The Legend of Vox Machina TV show on Amazon Prime recently, and I loved it. Vex and Vax are my favs, especially Vax. I vibe so hard with their sibling relationship, I always love seeing twin dynamics.

Anyways, not the point.

TL;DR: I had a dream last night that was so incredibly gay that it made me ship Percy x Vax (I had never even had an inkling of a romantic thought about them before).

Someone explain to me how I never ONCE even THOUGHT of Vax x Percy as a cute fan/headcanon/whatever ship whatsoever. Someone explain to me how the pair never even crossed my mind. AND YET my brain decided to feed me the most homosexual shit as a dream last night. Like. U guys what the actual fuck.

It wasn’t a super coherent plot line, one of those dreams where it only really makes sense when ur dreaming it, but in hindsight there are so many plot holes it rlly doesn’t follow through. Still, my brain managed to get the emotions down to an art. Basically, Vax get stabbed by this weird poisoned dagger that no magic is able to heal for some reason. The party spends like the next two days trying to find a way to heal him and Percy is rlly taking it hard. Along w/ Vex. The two r very worried. And then right when it’s about to be like kaputs, Percy has this weird revelation and somehow does something or comes up with the answer to save Vax (I rlly wish I could explain how or why but I genuinely have no idea because it made no sense and I barely remember). But like. The crazy part is… it was rlly cute? Like when Vax was waking up and like ‘what happened’ and Percy was like kneeling over him and being a softy and all happy he was alive. And they hold hands.

But like…

U guys why the fuck did my brain do this to me? Because I’m kind of for it now. I don’t even understand how it happened, but now when I think about them I’m just like “aw they’re cute” because of this one stupid dream.

So like… I guess I ship Vax x Percy now. But like… not in the context of the actual show. In this weird fandom dream universe. Wtf. I don’t get it. Actually help. What is my brain?

[cillivnz]

gunplay [percy de rolo]

PAIRING — LORD PERCIVAL FREDRICKSTEIN VON MUSEL KLOSSOWSKI DE ROLO III x F!READER

WORD COUNT — 2502

WARNINGS — cursing, alcoholism (it’s vox machina, what do you expect), slayer’s take!reader, dark!percy, full-fledged jealousy, implied vex’ahlia x percy, implied reader x vax’ildan and reader x kashaw, fighing, percy points a gun (the gun) at reader, degrading themes, degrading name-calling, pet names, gun-play, mention of gun penetration, fingering, orgasm denial, breasts/nipple play, cum-eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, biting, possessiveness, sex/pillow talk.

A/N — just a little somethin’-somethin’ for my favourite noble.

you had no idea how you ended up like this.

except it came to you, bits and pieces, as you rubbed your temples. despite having done it this long, you could never get accustomed to the hangovers that came with partying with vox machina. you were bare, not a strip of cloth covering your skin. about to get up and leave, when you felt a calloused hand wrap around your arm, and a strong arm pulling you in place. “stay,” an all-too-familiar voice requested, expect raspier, an underlying tone you’ve never heard in it before.

your eyes widened at realisation; the same very moment, those arms pulled you back to bed, keeping you flush against a cold chest, the same arms wrapping around your waist. your ass was pressed against his crotch, and the realisation elicited a groan from him.

“percy!” the realisation dawned on you when you saw the glistened, new-and-improved pepperbox on the nightstand in front of you.

HERE’S HOW IT STARTED: you’ve been with vox machina for a while; not an original member, but you were tasked with assisting them on the pursuit of the vestiges of divergence. the slayer’s take became cold and indifferent towards you, hating your departure, that they claimed to be your betrayal, but the order came from none of other than osysa, so every mortal was to oblige.

from the minute they barged into the home of the take, you had eyes on the white haired assassin. sure, vax’ildan was cute, but he seemed to be too out of it from the beginning. you also soon found out the ginger ashari claimed “dibs”, so you proposed a friendship instead. percy avoided you during team split ups, ignored your presence and voice entirely during plan discussions, and volunteered to go with vex’ahlia instead, whenever you offered to team up with him.

you never let it get to you, though. perhaps, it was just hostility rather than dislike because you weren’t a part of vox machina, but then again, grog and scanlan called you one of them on numerous occasions.

HERE’S HOW IT HAPPENED: after grog’s gruesomely glorious victory against his uncle, the then thunderlord of the herd of storms, the lot of you have been chugging barrels after barrels of booze. you had a high endurance to alcohol, but befriending vox machina turned you into the alcoholic you didn’t know you could be.

right now, you were seated between keyleth and pike; keyleth blabbered about vax while pike gazed nonchalantly at something you couldn’t make out in the corner of the room; vax just wandered out on his own, but no concern grew. “where’s-” ah, there he is. percy was with vex, her arm on his shoulder, a flushed grin on his face, vex twirled her braid in her other hand while saying something that caused percy to rupture into laughter.

you scoffed, downing the rest of your drink. getting up, you made your way to the bar, which was right behind them. “great,” you rolled your eyes, walking towards them. with swift strides, you picked up an unattended drink from a random table on the way, letting the oddly fruity taste stream down your throat. the contrast from your favourite grimly bitter drink was revitalising.

by the time you reached them, vex’s sultry voice only cheered the word “darling!” while hearty laughs roared in the room. they didn’t notice you, not until you made them. bumping into him so hard, almost dislocating your shoulder, you made mercy drop the pepper box, eliciting a gasp from vex.

he looked at you, an eyebrow raised at your audacity, while his jaw, one you know could cut a diamond into two, clenched, once he realised it was you. “watch. where you’re going.” he spoke through gritted teeth. “fuck off, de rolo.” you spoke with disdain. “excuse me?” he questioned your audacity. you flipped him off, a crimson and black flame of magic dancing behind your hand. “it’s foolish to disrespect a noble, slayer.” again, with the constant reminder that you’re not one of them. “especially,” he paused, and in a flash, the dropped weapon was in his hands, “an armed one.” he finished, pointing the pepperbox right at your temple. “percy, darlin-” “don’t bother, vex’ahlia.” you interrupted her. “i’d like to see ‘percy darling’ try.” percy snarled when the nickname left your tongue, the sound of it turned his face pale with disgust. “now that you don’t have a demon in there, i do wonder what you do with it.” his eyes, narrowed to slits at your remark.

yeah, you knew about orthax. osysa gave you enough information about each and every member of vox machina before you departed. plus, keyleth is an oversharing drunk, so this fact was backed up.

“well, don’t leave me hanging, baby. are you gonna shoot me? because,” you slowly turned towards him, closer to him with every word you dragged flirtatiously, “i’d like to see you put that thing to other use.” you finished, letting the tip of the gun graze your lower lip, softly pulling the plump lip down.

AND THAT’S HOW YOU ENDED UP HERE; in lord percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo III’s room. he’s still obnoxiously dressed, barely parted with his cravat, while you’re stripped to the bone; either leg placed on his sides, spread wide for him. one of his gloved hands is snaked around your waist, firmly holding you in place, dismissing your squirming, while lo in behold in his hand, the pepperbox — tracing your jaw, the valley of your breasts, and finally resting against your lips. “open.” he ordered, and you hesitantly did. the tip of the gun snaking in your mouth. you groaned when the brutally cold metal came in contact with your tongue. “suck it.” you pulled out, “percy, i want your cock…” he ‘tsked’. “no. you asked for this, and this is what you’ll get.” his authoritative tone made your cunt ache.

“now open your fucking mouth.” he demanded, the dominance in his tone was mocking you, so degrading, as if percy were a god, sick of hearing your endless devotions. being his devotee, you had no choice but to comply to him, your god. complying, you began sucking on the metallic weapon, tongue lapping at it, wetting the barrel. “good girl, at least you’re capable of something.” he halfheartedly praised, pulling the gun out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ sound. you knew he was lying when he said that, he did too. on countless occasions had you saved their asses, single-handedly. tonight, however, was not the night to let you know; praise you in any way, unless you fuck your way for it.

“i am capable.” you stated, relieved that your voice hadn’t given out. “are you now?” he questioned, amused. his fingers trailed the skin of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine. before you knew it, the grip on your tightened. you were left gasping for breath, only when your eyes clouded with panic did he let go and grabbed your mouth, forcing it open with a rough squeeze of your flushed cheeks. he shoved three of his fingers in, and you were quick to wrap your tongue around each of them, earning a rewarding groan from percival.

his digits began gagging you, pulling away, before shoving in deeper. his wet fingers then reached down to your weeping cunt; spreading the with his index and ring finger, percy showed in his middle one. “fucking drenching, just like i imagined.” “fuck, percy!” you moaned when he added the fingers spreading you, into your hole. “slow, please-” you gasped, your cry falling on deaf ears. “now, you say you’re capable,” he had an animalistic look in his eyes. you’d only heard of this craze, this ferocity dancing on percy’s face in stories told by vax, back when orthax was rooted in his soul. now that it’s in front of you, you can’t help but clench around his fingers, pummelling your cunt like a man (still) possessed. “yet,” he continued, “you’re so fucking tight — barely able to take in my fingers.” your half open eyes met his green ones, darkened with lust. “how on earth will you take in this, hm?” he used his other hand to press the cold, wet barrel of the pepperbox against your clit. you moaned so loud, you were sure the adjacent rooms were aware of your devilment.

he slowly began to move the weapon against your swollen clit. “don’t tell you weren’t planning on having it inside you. what’s the fun if you’re not gonna be fucked with it?” the relentless pace of his fingers, his dirty mouth — the smirk plastered on it, his gun on your clit. “but don’t worry, by the time i’m done with you, you’ll be stretched enough to take it,” he chuckled sinfully.

the darkest of your fantasies unravelling today, you were at the mercy of this assassin, and you loved every bittersweet bit of it. you knew your smartmouth wouldn’t last a second in his chambers, and he proved to be above you, oh so cruelly, the erotic feelings becoming unbearable.

he straightened his posture, easily moving you with him, as if you were featherlight in his embrace. his lips parted to let out his tongue, it circled your hard nipple, before engulfing it whole. his mouth was contrasting the icy feel of his fingers inside you and the metal that mocked your clit with every graze. it was blazing, as his mouth pulled and tugged on your nipple, before taking it between his teeth. you moaned a shriek. “fucking hell,” he pulled away, his tongue drawing wet circles around the bite. how he managed to stimulate every inch of you left you flabbergasted. “is this what you wanted?” percy looked at you through his lashes, “having my fingers inside this hot pussy, my mouth on these perfect fucking tits?” you moaned his name in response, he nodded with a smirk. “didn’t know nobles could talk dirty.” you managed to taunt between a moan. “not all, just me.” he clarified. “just like not every noble gets to fuck this pussy, more like anyone from now on.”

“who’s pussy is this?” he questioned, curling his fingers inside you; all three making your legs twitch. “yours, percival.” you whispered without thinking. “even when i’m flirting with vex, and you’re all alone pity drinking?” your ego was jabbed over, and over again. “yes, percival.” “aw,” he teased, “even when you were flirting with kash when we stopped by?” “yes, percival.” “ha-ha, and why’d you turn him down, baby?” “because… fuck, i’m gonna cum-” his movements halted. “answer me, my love.”

my love, what— “fuck, no, please let me finish!” you begged, the pressure of stopping coaxed tears out of your eyes. “you’re crying, my love? pathetic.” “i… i said no to him because i saw you and i… fuck, i wanted you from the moment i saw you, percy. i knew only you could do me right, and it fucking hurts when you don’t.” you were fucking relieved to surrender to your feelings and let them be known to the man eliciting them.

“kiss me,” he closed his eyes, swollen lips parted in wonder. “kiss me while i make you cum for me.” he patiently awaited your lips, ones he’s craved since the minute he set foot in vasselheim, and when you brought your plump lips to his, his movements resumed in your cunt, as did those of the pepperbox.

when your tongues danced to the fiery tune of the squelching sounds your cunt made, every fibre in your being raptured. this was unlike any feeling you’ve ever felt.

“oh, percy!” was all you chanted, while he cooed praises along the lines of ‘good girl’, ‘so good for me’, ‘that’s it, cream on fingers’. he placed you on the bed, the gun, beside you on the nightstand, and fervently discarded his clothes. shirtless, he climbed on, spreading your pussy once again, before diving in. “percy, i can’t- oh!” you moaned when his tongue wriggled inside you. he ate you out, you grabbed onto his ivory locs, using that beautiful face you’ve spent day and night fantasising about, to ride your high.

often, you had wondered what de rolo would be like in bed, obviously not anticipating that he and you would ever be sleeping together. even when you and the gang were camping in the open, he would make sure to sleep as farther away from you as the proximity of the fire would allow him to, so yeah, to say ‘surprised’ would be like reducing osysa and kamaljiori to mere kitties.

“fuck, percy, just like that.” you moaned when he began sucking on your clit. “god, you’re gonna make me cum again,” your voice was getting shriller, hand gripping on to the sheets for dear life. “good,” was percy’s response, and he lapped at every drop flowing out of your fucked out cunt, fingers pinching the clit to coax more out.

you saw white, yet again, when he had you coming undone on his tongue. your legs threatened to shut close, but percy didn’t falter, still determined to overstimulating you, as if that were your punishment for the bratty behaviour today.

the last thing you remember was him tucking your naked frame in the sheets before he spooned you, arms wrapped around your waist as if you were a celestial dream that would fade away at the brink of dawn.

NOW: you were being held on to for dear life, while you thought of a way to slither away from his embrace. deciding to try your luck, you just grabbed his, surprisingly muscular, arm and placed it on his side, ready to make a run for it — about to get up and leave, when you felt a calloused hand wrap around your arm, and a strong arm pulling you in place. “stay,” an all-too-familiar voice requested, expect raspier, an underlying tone you’ve never heard in it before. “we’ve done what we wanted to, let me leave.” you said without facing him.

“well, i’ve got a lot to apologise for, and so do you.” he spoke, nonchalantly.

“best way to do that is by submitting to me like you did last night.” he piqued your interest, “you— remember it all?” you asked, slowly turning toward him. “of course.” he chuckled, the sound made you rub your thighs against each other.

“kind of hard to forget the women you fancy getting her clit rubbed by your gun.” wait did he just— “yes, i do fucking fancy you, dummy. i’d tell you all about it if you could just sleep with me for five more minutes.” he said before he yanked you towards him; landing on his cold chest, you let him soak in your warmth, his large hand holding your shoulder, while yours placed on his heart, felt it beat, for you.

main masterlist. more from ‘the legend of vox machina’.

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[nilesdaughter]

La Mécanique du cœur

Fandom: Critical Role Characters: Percy De Rolo, Vex'ahlia, Anna Ripley, Vax'ildan, Keyleth of the Air Ashari, Pike Trickfoot, Trinket (Mention), Syldor (Mention), Saundor (Mention), Scanlan Shorthalt (Mention) Pairing: Perc'ahlia Word Count: 3,017 Note: Here's the "Jack and the Cuckoo-Clock Heart" AU that no one asked for, written for the "Heart" prompt for @percahliaweek. [Also found on AO3.]

Percival’s heart died at the age of eighteen.

That isn’t to say that Percival died, of course.

Rather, the young man in question survived the massacre of his family and the torturous pain inflicted upon him by Anna Ripley, living only by the “grace” of one of the good doctor’s many experimental forays into blending science and magic. Her medical tools made quick work of carving him open, breaking bone and tearing apart wet muscle to then hold his bloody heart in her hands. Within the new cavity of his chest, Ripley installed metallic gears and springs and small weights; where once he functioned through his own biological processes, he was driven by clockwork, the delicate kind that he once tinkered with in his youth.

And so, Percival persisted, though he was now forced to treat his heart like a machine.

x-x-x-x-x

Vex’ahlia’s heart died at the age of nineteen.

That isn’t to say that Vex’ahlia died, of course.

Rather, the young woman in question learned the shattered remains she had left in the wake of Syngorn and Byroden had to be held in a tight fist, guarded just as fiercely as Trinket’s mother had protected her cub in her final hours. As she traveled with her brother and slowly learned the magic of the world around her, she discovered that some of it could be used to wrap her fragile heart with briars and thorns. More times than not, the spike of the vines was an internal and mild discomfort that reminded her to tread carefully. But sometimes (the worst times, she believed), her thorns could be visible for all to see. They wrapped around her entire body in a startling display of gnarled and twisted vines, prickly things that warded off anything that would want to hurt her first.

And so, Vex’ahlia persisted, though she was now forced to act as though her emotions were inconsequential.

x-x-x-x-x

“I don’t trust him,” Vax’ildan said in a murmur, throwing a glance over his shoulder towards the pale human man that they’d just released from one of the many prison cells surrounding them.

“He can help us,” Vex countered. “If nothing else, he at least seems to know where to find this cult we’re apparently looking for.”

“Didn’t you hear his chest?” he pressed.

“Of course I did.”

“Then you agree that something’s wrong with him, or that he’s hiding something, because he hasn’t said a word of that to us.”

“And would you expect me to announce my condition to the entire world?” Vex asked with a quirked brow.

Vax stared at his sister for several long moments before rolling his eyes as he clicked his tongue in frustration. “That’s different, Stubby—”

“Is it?”

He sighed heavily. “Alright, alright, fine, be that way. But if he tries anything weird—”

“I know,” she said simply, because she always understood her brother and his caution. It was, after all, his own way of helping further shield her brambled heart.

x-x-x-x-x

Percy, as Vex learned his name was, managed to fit in with the rest of their group, despite clearly having some sort of noble background. Though he kept to himself, he did what he could to help with the various odd jobs they picked up, particularly so since he armed himself with some of the newfangled black powder weapons that were becoming increasingly popular throughout the world. Despite the weapons being terribly loud and often reeking of the burnt powder, they did pack quite the punch, and his precision with his shots usually allowed them to significantly reduce the amount of time they spent in combat.

The longer he spent with Vox Machina, the more they realized that he was also rather good with repairing things, a talent not restricted to the careful maintenance he had to keep up with so his firearms were in working order. Slowly but surely, it became commonplace to find Percy in possession of their broken odds and ends, piecing things together to repair weapons or to craft something entirely new and useful.

As such, it was not a surprise when Vex noticed Percy pulling out a small tool kit one evening when he had volunteered to take watch and she had yet to fall asleep. What was a surprise, however, was when Percy shrugged off the heavy blue coat he rarely parted with and unbuttoned his shirt. As the fabric fell away from his shoulders, pooling at his elbows, she saw the face of a clock on the front of his chest, resting over the space where his heart would be. What she initially assumed was nothing more than some intricate pocket watch sticking to his skin with sweat was soon proven to be attached to him as he opened the small glass door protecting the face and inserted a small key into one of the lowermost winding holes; as he turned his hand, his expression contorted with discomfort. Still, he turned the key a few more times, no matter how frequently he winced, before the subtle movements of the clock’s hands seemed to move much more smoothly than the jerky pace they had had before he used the key.

“So, that’s what you’ve been keeping secret from us, darling?” she couldn’t help but ask, propping herself up on one elbow as she looked at him.

Percy visibly stiffened, sitting ramrod straight as his eyes widened, before he hastily closed the clock’s door and pulled his shirt back up over his shoulders, his now-shaking hands fumbling to rebutton the garment.

“I, ah, didn’t realize anyone was still awake…” he said instead of answering her question.

Vex fell silent for a few moments, just studying him in curiosity. “Is it magic?”

Percy fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, intently focused on ensuring it lay flat against his throat.

“...I’m sorry for prying, darling,” she said gently, slowly recognizing that she would be equally evasive if the situation had been reversed.

Percy sighed a little and clasped his hands together in his lap before hesitantly meeting her gaze. “No, it’s… You all were bound to find out eventually.” He paused to tug off his spectacles before using the corner of his shirt to clean the lenses. “Yes, it is magic, but not by my own doing. I admittedly lack the interest, much less the aptitude, for such things. And, regardless of how I came by it, this is the only thing keeping me alive.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, more out of sympathetic understanding than pity.

“It is merely the current circumstances I have to live with.”

“...Does it hurt?”

Percy was quiet for several moments before he sighed and let out a small, almost exasperated, laugh. “Perhaps you could join me for the watch? I’ll happily answer whatever questions you have, dear, but it may be a bit more comfortable for you to sit up while we talk.”

x-x-x-x-x

Despite how carefully Vex guarded her emotions to keep her thorns under the surface of her skin, Syldor would always be one of the catalysts for pushing them up into plain view of everyone. It seemed like a miracle that her anxiety waited to take full bloom until after Vox Machina left the embassy. But it also seemed like a curse that it happened when Percy was still at her side even as everyone else had moved on to their rooms. As she heard the subtle creak and groan of the vines grow louder and felt the full-body prickle of the thorns forming, she let out a strangled noise of frustration.

Although Percy’s eyes widened in alarm, he had the decency to not jump away from her like some others had in the past.

“I… suspect you’re not alright,” he said tentatively.

She laughed, wet and strangled and lacking any true mirth, as she shook her head. “No, of course not. He’s supposed to be in Syngorn! I don’t know why he had to be here in Emon of all places.” She sighed and wrapped her prickly arms around herself, trying to further the physical shield around her form.

“If it will make you feel better, dear, we don’t actually have to search for your… for the Ambassador’s acquaintance.”

“No,” she said, vehemently shaking her head. “No, I… I don’t want him to know that I’m this upset about seeing him. I can’t let him know.”

“He isn’t aware of the thorns,” Percy guessed.

Vex swallowed and answered in a soft voice, “No. It was a kind of magic I learned after I left his home.”

“Then he won’t know,” he promised. “Even if that means the rest of us have to speak to him without you present.”

Vex tentatively turned her dark eyes to his blue ones, pools of sincerity that she usually only ever saw in her brother, lacking in judgment for the condition her body was in. Slowly, impossibly, her posture relaxed and the briars and thorns and vines receded under the compassion in his gaze.

“That… means more than I think you realize, Percival. Thank you.”

x-x-x-x-x

"Couldn’t sleep?” Vex asked quietly as she slotted herself beside Percy.

“Of course not,” he said, sounding as numb as his distant stare seemed to indicate. “Not when I know she…” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep until I finally end this.”

Vex nodded and watched him carefully, knowing full well that he was leaving plenty of things unsaid but also knowing he was unlikely to want to disclose any of them. That did nothing to stop her from worrying about him.

“Would you like me to keep you company?”

He was silent for a long while, the only sound between them the steady tick-tock, tick-tock of his heart. He eventually nodded, slow and hesitant. “Yes. I… I would.”

She nodded again and turned her attention to restringing Fenthras while Percy took apart Retort, cleaned the parts, and reassembled the weapon. He seemed more than happy to pass the time in silence, however broken it was by the ticking of his heart. When it grew late enough that Vex was about to suggest they call it a night and join the others in the train’s sleeping car, Percy lightly cleared his throat.

“I have something I would like to give you, Vex’ahlia.”

“Oh?” she asked with a small tilt of her head. Not that it was unusual for Percy to make things for her, of course; it just hadn’t seemed to be one of his priorities in recent days, and understandably so.

“Ah… not my usual fare, I admit, but… but it’s important for you to have, I think, before tomorrow.”

Vex felt a sudden whisper of anxiety in the back of her mind, sounding so much like Saundor that she almost physically winced (or was it because her protective thorns were pricking at her insides?), telling her that Percy was trying to say goodbye in his own way. She refused to entertain the thought and tucked the fear away deep in her chest, beneath the briars.

“What is it?” she asked, forcing her tone to remain light and teasingly curious.

He offered her a weak smile and reached into an inner pocket of his coat, producing a small—but thick—envelope. When he passed it to her, there was a surprising amount of heft to it. As she moved to tear the envelope open, he reached out and placed a shaking hand over hers to stop her.

“Please… please wait to open it. I suspect you’ll know when the time is right.”

“...I’ll wait,” she promised softly, once more feeling the prickling pain of her anxiety and once more burying it.

x-x-x-x-x

“No matter what today”—Percy paused to release a shaky exhale—“I forgive you. But I cannot let you leave.”

Ripley let out a noise that seemed caught between a derisive snort and a frustrated growl, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket with her clockwork arm and flinging him to the ground. The sound of glass cracking seemed nearly as loud and sharp as any gunshot from that afternoon. It was difficult to tell if it was from the shattered ground, Percy’s spectacles, or from the face of his heart; when he managed to push himself up into a semi-sitting position, Vex’s sharp eyes could see that it seemed to have been all of the above.

The glass pieces from the face of his heart were chased by its minute hand as he moved to aim Retort up at Ripley, his own hands trembling hard enough that Vex was certain he would miss the shot. The doctor seemed to reach the same conclusion as she shook her head and leveled Animus at Percy in return, her smile condescending and disappointed.

“It seems to me, Percival, that you are the one who won’t be leaving here today.”

A gunshot sounded, accompanied by the sounds of even more shattering glass and the crunch of wood and various metallic snaps.

As Percy fell backwards, pain erupted all over Vex’s skin as vines wrapped around her body and she screamed and screamed and screamed. She was vaguely aware of Keyleth’s responding cry and Scanlan’s curse and her brother suddenly at her side like a shadow, fumbling to notch an arrow when her hands were usually so sure. She drew back her bowstring, the briars and thorns of her pain indistinguishable from the ones blooming along the curve of Fenthras, the weapon mirroring her own heart, and she released all her grief and rage into the arrowhead that sank into the junction where Ripley’s clockwork arm connected with her shoulder. The others also turned their attention to Ripley, mercilessly cutting into her and breaking her as she’d broken their beloved tinkerer. When the doctor screamed her pain and frustration, the sound was cut short by Vex’s second arrow striking true in her throat.

Ripley’s decimated body barely had time to hit the ground before Vex, vision little more than a blur, dropped Fenthras and ran to gather up the pieces of Percy into her shaking, thorny arms.

x-x-x-x-x

Vex’ahlia, I have no doubt that you or your brother have found the letter I left for the group as a whole. I also have no doubt that you all have read it and are, in varying degrees, rather cross with me. This, however, is meant for you and you alone, dear. I’m aware that giving you my winding key is likely too little, too late, but I wouldn’t entrust it to anyone else. While you now hold the literal key to my heart in your hands, please know it belonged to you long before this. I have many regrets but I think not telling you sooner is the one that I carry with the heaviest burden. I sincerely hope you’ll hold onto this piece of me. Yours, Percival

x-x-x-x-x

“Honestly, what he needs is a clockmaker,” Pike sighed heavily.

“Then… there’s nothing you can do, Pickle?” Vax asked after he cast a sideways glance at his sister, watching her once again reread the letter that Percy had evidently left for only her.

“I never said that,” Pike replied with a small huff, moving to wipe her bloodied hands with a damp washcloth. “I managed to stabilize him but he’ll need a completely new clock to ensure he actually stays alive. Unfortunately, though, I think that’ll have to wait until he wakes up.”

Everyone in the room thankfully left the ‘if’ unspoken between them.

“So, what do we do now?” Keyleth asked, her voice still hoarse and scratchy from how much she had cried.

Pike sighed again, a little softer, and looked over Percy’s form in the hospital bed. “All we can do is wait.”

x-x-x-x-x

Despite Vax’s attempts to coax her out of the room, Vex became a near-constant fixture at Percy’s bedside, his winding key in her pocket and his letter in her hands, watching and waiting for him to open his eyes. Sometimes, for the sake of drowning out the irregular and weak ticking of his heart, she would talk to him, keeping him updated on the team’s misadventures or reading a book aloud.

On one of the many nights she tried to read to him, she found that she couldn’t focus on the words and, with a sigh, she closed the book. As she set the book down in her lap, she looked over at Percy, gnawing at her lower lip as she became lost in thought.

“I don’t know if you can actually hear me, darling, but I’m so proud that you entrusted me with your heart. That you let me see it as plainly now as you did when you first showed it to me. But, yes, I am a bit cross with you for not telling me about your feelings sooner.” She let out a small laugh before she sighed and continued, “It means nothing, though, without you here. Your home needs you. Your sister needs you. I need you. And… I should have told that my heart is yours in return.”

“Oh, good. I was worried I’d simply made a complete ass of myself for leaving you that note.”

Vex’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice and was met with a thoroughly exhausted—but cheeky—smile as Percy struggled to sit up.

“Percy!” she gasped, frustrated and surprised and relieved and giddy all at once, before she nearly flung the book across the room in her rush to move in and wrap him in the tightest embrace she dared.

“It’s good to see you, too, dear,” he said weakly.

As she pulled away from the embrace, she began to pepper his face with kisses, feeling his skin warm considerably under the shower of affection but not caring enough to stop, trying to pour every ounce of her love into him so he couldn’t have any doubt that she reciprocated his feelings.

x-x-x-x-x

Percival’s heart revived at the age of twenty-three and Vex’ahlia’s heart revived at the age of twenty-seven, irrevocably intertwined in each other.

[samrriegel]

Kickstarter update

Members of Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein will face off in an epic FIGHT TO THE DEATH! Having seven players made it a tad awkward to break out into even teams, so our brilliant GM Matthew Mercer built a mechanic into the arena so that one player will be a wildcard of sorts, who can be pulled between Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein. After a dice roll-off, our favorite goth dad, Taliesin Jaffe, claimed the wildcard title and has the unique pleasure of juggling characters and accents at a moment’s notice… Good luck, Taliesin! The rest of the Critical Role cast have been broken up between the two adventuring parties, leaving us with the following matchup:

Vox Machina - Ashley Johnson as Pike Trickfoot; Sam Riegel as Scanlan Shorthalt; Liam O’Brien as Vax’ildan; And our wildcard Taliesin Jaffe as Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III

VS

The Mighty Nein - Marisha Ray as Beauregard Lionett; Laura Bailey as Jester Lavorre; Travis Willingham as Fjord; And our wildcard Taliesin Jaffe as Mollymauk Tealeaf

All characters will be Level 15 for a nice fair fight.

[bixbiboom]

THE VOX MACHINA/MIGHTY NEIN BATTLE ROYALE HAS BEEN ANNOUNCED!

From the latest Kickstarter update:

We are absolutely hyped to share that our Vox Machina x Mighty Nein one-shot will air Friday, June 18th at 7pm Pacific on both our Twitch and YouTube channels. The showdown was unlocked when our $3 million stretch goal was SMASHED by all of you amazing backers.

Members of Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein will face off in an epic FIGHT TO THE DEATH! Having seven players made it a tad awkward to break out into even teams, so our brilliant GM Matthew Mercer built a mechanic into the arena so that one player will be a wildcard of sorts, who can be pulled between Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein. After a dice roll-off, our favorite goth dad, Taliesin Jaffe, claimed the wildcard title and has the unique pleasure of juggling characters and accents at a moment’s notice… Good luck, Taliesin! The rest of the Critical Role cast have been broken up between the two adventuring parties, leaving us with the following matchup:

VOX MACHINA

Ashley Johnson as Pike Trickfoot

Sam Riegel as Scanlan Shorthalt

Liam O’Brien as Vax’ildan

And our wildcard Taliesin Jaffe as Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III

VS

THE MIGHTY NEIN

Marisha Ray as Beauregard Lionett

Laura Bailey as Jester Lavorre

Travis Willingham as Fjord

And our wildcard Taliesin Jaffe as Mollymauk Tealeaf

All characters will be Level 15 for a nice fair fight. Oh yeah! We also decided to theme this team deathmatch with some post-apocalyptic desert warrior vibes for funsies… Check out the incredible character art created by Anna Zee (@AnnaZee_S) and GET HYPED!

Watch the epic showdown Friday, June 18th at 7pm Pacific on Twitch and YouTube! We’ll also have rebroadcasts on Saturday, June 19th at 12am and 9am Pacific on Twitch, and the VOD will be available on YouTube Sunday, June 20th.

Which team do you think will come out on top?

<3

Critical Role

——

I think we all know who’s gonna win this tho. Taliesin’s team!

[noodledragon]

“Bidet dearest backers,

After your feedback on our recent reward shipment update (if you missed it, you can find all the information right here), we have been working with our logistics team to determine if there’s any possible way we can accept adjusted shipping addresses. We’ll let you know if it’s a possibility just as soon as we can and very much appreciate your patience.

On another note, we are absolutely hyped to share that our Vox Machina x Mighty Nein one-shot will air Friday, June 18th at 7pm Pacific on both our Twitch and YouTube channels. The showdown was unlocked when our $3 million stretch goal was SMASHED by all of you amazing backers.

Members of Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein will face off in an epic FIGHT TO THE DEATH! Having seven players made it a tad awkward to break out into even teams, so our brilliant GM Matthew Mercer built a mechanic into the arena so that one player will be a wildcard of sorts, who can be pulled between Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein. After a dice roll-off, our favorite goth dad, Taliesin Jaffe, claimed the wildcard title and has the unique pleasure of juggling characters and accents at a moment’s notice… Good luck, Taliesin! The rest of the Critical Role cast have been broken up between the two adventuring parties, leaving us with the following matchup:

VOX MACHINA

Ashley Johnson as Pike Trickfoot

Sam Riegel as Scanlan Shorthalt

Liam O’Brien as Vax’ildan

And our wildcard Taliesin Jaffe as Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III

VS

THE MIGHTY NEIN

Marisha Ray as Beauregard Lionett

Laura Bailey as Jester Lavorre

Travis Willingham as Fjord

And our wildcard Taliesin Jaffe as Mollymauk Tealeaf

All characters will be Level 15 for a nice fair fight. Oh yeah! We also decided to theme this team deathmatch with some post-apocalyptic desert warrior vibes for funsies… Check out the incredible character art created by Anna Zee (@AnnaZee_S) and GET HYPED!

Watch the epic showdown Friday, June 18th at 7pm Pacific on Twitch and YouTube! We’ll also have rebroadcasts on Saturday, June 19th at 12am and 9am Pacific on Twitch, and the VOD will be available on YouTube Sunday, June 20th.

Which team do you think will come out on top?

<3

Critical Role”

[tanoraqui]

I have no idea what critical role is but you reblog it a lot. Is it just a bunch of people playing video games or something?

Critical Role is an ongoing RPG game (D&D 5e) played by a bunch of notable voice actors from video games, including Ashely Johnson (The Last of Us), Liam O’Brien (idk, he voiced some guy named Illidan somewhere? I know very little about video games), and Laura Bailey (she’s Laura goddamn Bailey). The Dungeon Master is Matthew Mercer (blanking - Overwatch cowboy) who’s REALLY GODDAMN GOOD at being a DM, and indeed does it as part of his full-time job now, because at some point they all went “fuck it” and incorporated as their own company. Because fuck yeah. Last spring (my god it was only last spring) they did a kickstarter to fund an animated series of some previous RPG adventures, and it broke several records and now - slowed by the global pandemic - there’s gonna be 2 seasons of an animated show, hosted by Amazon I think? (Every time I think about that I scream softly in excitement in my mind.)

It’s currently on its second big, multi-year campaign, with the adventuring party The Mighty Nein. Their previous campaign starred Vox Machina. Some highlights, arbitrarily mixed together, include:

that time Vox Machina had a cannonball contest, displaying their distinct personalities and powersets really well, actually

that time the Mighty Nein accidentally got into a fight with some smugglers and then the city guard, accidentally stole a ship, and thus, and I cannot emphasize this enough, accidentally became pirates

“Take me instead, you raven bitch.”  - Vax’ildan of Vox Machina, half-elven rogue, offering his own life to the goddess of death in exchange for his sister’s and (unbeknownst to him at the time) beginning of long character arc of multiclassing as a paladin

Vox Machina’s archnemeses: doors, and also the elderly

the Mighty Nein’s archnemeses: chairs

Veth Brenatto, sometimes Nott the Brave, of the Mighty Nein regaining - with the help of her friends - her halfling form after years as a goblin, and immediately dip-kissing her husband and kicking all aforementioned friends (and her son) out so they can have sex

Taliesin Jaffe had eerie luck with nat20s in the Vox Machina campaign, but I maintain that Laura Bailey [harp music] actually has the best record for narratively on-point nat20s, including but not limited to:

two consecutive nat20s as Vex’ahlia of Vox Machina, half-elven ranger, to shoot the Briarwoods (sexy wizard/vampire couple) when they were about to kill her brother

True Love’s Nat20, rolling as part of the resurrection ritual to bring back Percy (Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, human gunslinger of VM)

in the culminating moment of an episode in which the M9 one by one spoke with ancient, evil hag about what they might trade her in order to lift the curse on Nott, tiefling Jester Lavorre rolling at nat20 deception check to trick the into hag eating a cupcake laced with magic dust that lowered her ability to resist the Modify Memory curse Jester immediately cast, convincing the hag that she’d already agreed to the deal without demanding anything in return

not a Vex roll but Vex-enabled: dropping Grog (goliath barbarian) out of basically a magical pokeball with perfect dramatic timing for him to roll a nat20 final blow on his evil abusive uncle, cleaving him in twain

“Call me child one more goddamn time--”  - Keyleth of the Air Ashari, half-elven druid of VM, snarling at the ancient green dragon who’d orchestrated the destruction of 1/4 of Keyleth’s people

“You were not born with poison in your veins....Welcome to the Mighty Nein.”  - Caleb Widogast, human wizard, consoling/forgiving/welcoming aa lawful evil NPC who they’d caught playing a major part in creating a war between two empires for The Greater Ultimate Good (and kinda his own personal gain)...but he was their friend already at that point and Caleb had his own history with doing terrible things that he thought were right at the time, and actually someone else might’ve said the “Welcome to the Mighty Nein” part but that’s intrinsically part of it, and it’s...something they say to a lot of people; to a range of NPCs and guest characters. Which is interesting because Vox Machina DIDN’T; they were a tighter family unit but...well, they were a tighter family unit. And kinda...better people, more Heroes(TM)? Disastrous and often very fucked up inside and sometimes out, but Heroes(TM), on the whole. 

whereas the M9 are more trying to sort out their own personal problems, and stumble into international politics almost by mistake. Even their relationships with NPCs are different - they don’t trust, none of the M9 trust in a way VM did, the party took much longer to gel just with each other. Partly, admittedly, because by the time Vox Machina came to the YouTube screen, the cast had been playing at home for about a year, whereas we’ve been watching the M9 from level 1...but even accounting for that, they’re all much less trusting people. Most of them had big secrets in their backstory

which is why it’s all the more wonderful every time they invite someone new it, either outside the group or just with each other. And it pays off - I don’t have a whole meta, but I’ve been thinking idly for a while about how kinda...the big (DM-created) plot twists in the VM campaign were generally...disruptions, dissolutions, or betrayals? The deception of Raishan (aforementioned ancient green dragon.) Hotis’s assassination attempt on Vax, while disguised as a trusted NPC. When Emperor Uriel stepped down and before he’d even finished his speech, there was a sudden invasion of 4 goddamn ancient dragons. Whereas the M9...not only have no NPCs unexpectedly turned on them (the grievous actions of aforementioned lawful evil NPC were mostly pre-story), but it feels almost like a plot twist every time an NPC in authority is benevolent? Like, they arranged peace negotiations between the warring empires and I think every single fan and player was waiting with bated breath for it to all go wrong...and it didn’t. There’s a truce, now. Will it last? Who knows. Jester’s god turned out to not be a god at all, just an archfey in over his head, but he’s not trying to hurt anyone - he came clean and asked for help.

Idk, man. Critical Role streams on Twitch every Thursday at 7pm, or at least, it’ll keep doing so if public health concerns don’t make it take a break again, and it makes me unironically happy to watch, pretty much every time. The cast has great friend chemistry and, now that they’ve all warmed up to each other, so do the characters.

Episodes DO tend to be 3-4 hours long, shaving off maybe half an hour in the podcast versions, so be aware of that. But I just kind of set Thursday evenings aside and I love it. 

it’s funny bc I told my roommate I probably wasn’t going to go on a long emphatic ramble in response to this but Here We Are

[enkelimagnus]

A Castle in the Forest

Percy x Vex’ahlia, Chapter 5, 2641 words,

A Modern AU, in which Vex is a park ranger taking over the Alabaster Sierras post, and finds much more than she bargained for

Read on AO3

In this chapter, we move a little away from Vex and meet Vax, Keyleth and... Percy?

--------------------

Vax’ildan awakes to the ringing of the great clock in the corridor that leads to the bedroom. It clangs a little, old and cranky. Vax buries his face into the pillow. A scent of patchouli and spices linger onto the fabric of the pillowcase. He smiles lazily.

He refuses to open his eyes for a while, to let himself feel really awake. He has to leave Westrunn today, drive the last leg of his journey to Whitestone to see Vex. He’s missed her terribly, but right in this moment, in this bed, he really doesn’t want to leave.

He feels himself being gently pulled away from his pillow and back towards the man whose bed he’s currently lounging in, and lets it happen with lazy happiness. The only thing he really does is turn over to face the other, cuddling into his warmth.

“I shall soon contact the rulers of Whitestone to set up a teleportation circle…” Gilmore grumbles sleepily into Vax’s hair. “Having you leave me like this is much too cruel.”

Vax chuckles lightly and looks up at his boyfriend with a smile. Gods, he’s beautiful. He always is but this… sleep-mussed and heavy-lidded and warm version of Shaun Gilmore is one Vax especially cherishes.

“You would go through that costly and lengthy process for a few hours more of me?” Vax hums, kissing Gilmore’s lips lightly.

“In a heartbeat, Vax’ildan.”

Gods, he’s the only person allowed to call Vax by his full name. He’s the only person that doesn’t make it sound contemptuous. It’s beautiful on his lips, with his light Marquesian accent. Vax melts, reaching to slowly caress Gilmore’s chest.

He’s been in Westrunn for a week now. A lot of that week has been spent in this bed, though he did walk around and explore when Gilmore was working. That man will never stop working for anything, and Vax accepted that a long time ago. Watching the enchanter at work is entertaining enough.

Vax pulls up the deep purple sheets as he shifts to rest a little more comfortably by Gilmore.

“I still have a few hours,” he hums. “Whitestone isn’t that far from here…”

Gilmore rolls his eyes a little. “I’d rather you not be driving through the Parchwood Timberlands in the dark, darling,” he points out. “There are many stories about the creatures populating that area. I would hate for you to find your fate.”

Vax huffs a little, but doesn’t say anything back. He loves Vex, wants to see her, but he has no desire to leave Gilmore. He doesn’t see him often enough as it is, both busy and living on very different sides of the continent. It’s a bit of a struggle sometimes, despite video calls and other nifty technological ways of seeing each other.

“Maybe you could just… call your sister and let her know you won’t be there for a couple of more days…” Gilmore points out, starting to pepper kisses over Vax’s face, anywhere but his mouth. “I’m sure she’ll understand…”

The kisses get a little more insisting and Vax can’t help the happy sigh that escapes his lips. Gilmore smirks at his success. That smirk does things to Vax’s heart and body that he can’t actively describe, especially right now as his mind is very focused on the direction and pattern of the kisses, on the light scratching of Gilmore’s facial hair.

They roll over a little and Gilmore’s hand gently comes to tuck a strand of long black hair behind Vax’s ear. Their eyes meet and Vax starts drowning in brown so dark it’s almost black. He can’t refuse this man anything, can he?

“Come on,” Gilmore hums. “Just a couple of days…”

Vax leans up to capture his lips but Gilmore moves away at the last moment.

“You’re playing, Shaun,” Vax points out, raising an eyebrow. He hooks one of his legs over his boyfriend’s hip.

Gilmore raises an eyebrow. “And what are you doing?” He asks with his signature smirk.

“I’ll call her,” Vax sighs after a moment. “If she doesn’t need me, I will stay. If I hear one thing that makes me think she needs me there? I’ll go.”

Gilmore nods. “Of course, beautiful Vax’ildan. I will never keep you from her if she needs you, or if you need her.”

Vax leans up again, and this time, Gilmore lets him kiss him. They make out like this for a moment, a bare hint of heat between them, waiting to be kindled to a burning fire.

“Thank you,” Vax smiles. “But I will do this once we’re out of bed. Right now, I have something much better to do.” He smirks and shoves Gilmore back gently, pivoting his weight to roll them over and straddle him.

The next hour or so melts away in between the two of them.

----------

Keyleth darts through the tangled weeds of the Parchwood Timberlands, avoiding bigger and harsher foes and finding her way back to where she’ll be safe for the rest of the night. Her rations are too short this time, she wasn’t carefully monitoring them, and she doesn’t want to go hungry.

Her backpack is heavy with clockwork machines that she needs to sell soon, and she’ll need muscles to carry it back into Whitestone. Her monthly task is complete, and she’ll soon be able to go back to her own work.

She left more food and resources than usual, and warned him that she wouldn’t be there for a while. She needs two months or so to get to Terrah and complete the first trial of her Aramente. She can’t wait any longer.

It’s been years already, and her people are waiting for her at home. They have no idea of the situation she’s gotten herself into here. They have no idea where she stands. Or where she is.

If she takes too long, they’ll think her dead, and she can’t imagine doing that to her father, not when the loss of her mother hangs over her like a shadow. Following in her footsteps was necessary but worrying for everyone. Including her. She doesn’t want to either die or cause her father more grief.

She rushes through the low bushes until she finds the now much clearer path. From there, her instincts guide her to the entrance of the tunnel and she passes through the smaller hole without issue. Being able to turn into small beasts is a blessing in these kinds of situations.

The tunnel is damp and dark and Keyleth hates it. Even when she’s in her wolf form it’s uncomfortable. And yet she finds herself there every month or so, stuck in this routine that doesn’t seem to promise to end any time soon.

She turns herself back into her regular form, stretches her arms out. Her belly is full now. She can try and sleep.

Drops of water crash into the stone below her feet, resounding in the empty tunnel. She decides to light a fire and does quick work of it. She’s done this what feels like a million different times.

Hopefully no one will notice the smoke coming out of the secret tunnel. That would be just Keyleth’s luck. Maybe that ranger will see the smoke and find the entrance and everything will be lost because Keyleth was cold and wasn’t careful this time.

She huffs, staring into the flame. Things have gotten so much worse now that the new ranger is there. The one before was either oblivious or just let them do things as long as they didn’t leave a blood trail.

This one, Vex’ahlia, seems very different. She sensed the fiend, which the previous one might have also done, but hadn’t asked Keyleth or anyone else about it. And she’s investigating it, and going around asking for help in defeating it.

The situation just got much more dangerous for everyone involved.

She closes her eyes and tries to calm down. Her pulse is quick, her mind working overtime. She needs to calm down. She doesn’t want to bring creatures that would sense her anxiety to her. And she doesn’t want to break. Not while her best friend might be in earshot, and might hear her pain and fear.

She’ll do the screaming and the crying and the possible breaking of furniture once she’s in an inn or in another cave on her way to Terrah. Then she’ll be able to let it all out and punch the walls and heal herself afterwards. Right now, it’s too close. She needs to hold on.

Keyleth decides to turn back into her wolf form to sleep. It’s easier to keep warm that way.

---------------

The gun is warm. It beats against his hand like a heartbeat, maybe to the beat of his quickened heart, his adrenalin and revenge-fueled heart. They’re gone, they’re dead, they all have wounds, perfectly round holes that turned their bodies cold when he shot them.

It gets warmer against his skin. His fingers are splattered with red dots, blood splatters. Everything feels blurry. His vision has long ago tunneled. The only thing he can see right now, really see, is her.

She stands across from him, arms raised, a rapier in her right hand. It’s useless, so useless. A contemptuous, hungry laugh comes out of his mouth, taunting her. A rapier is nothing against a gun. It will never be anything.

Percival…

The voice licks at the back of his skull. He knows what he has to do. His hand rises, the gun aimed at her, the bullet in the chamber, her name on the metal. Cassandra de Rolo.

“Brother…” She says softly. She’s distressed, he can taste it on his lips, it’s sugar sweet and delectable.

She’s all yours for the taking… the last of the ones who have betrayed you…

She has betrayed him. She shoved him away and called herself another name. Why isn’t Cassandra Briarwood the name on the barrel? It should be, if she renounces the De Rolo name.

But this is Cassandra. She was never supposed to die. He was always going to forgive her. She stands there in front of him and he loves her. He forgives her. He always will, over and over. He understands she didn’t have a choice.

Why is his gun pointed at her head, why is his hand so steady?

“I’m sorry,” she cries. Tears fall on her cheeks. He wants to taste her anguish. He wants to devour her soul.

What? No. It’s his baby sister. She’s everything, and he thought he had lost her forever. She’s everything to him.

She made the rebellions fail, she made Whitestone crumble. She’s the one who kept your people subjugated. It’s her fault….

Smoke fills every corner of his being, his body, his soul, his eyes. All he can see is the spot he’s chosen to fire at, right in between her eyebrows. Her hair is still brown, while his turned white months ago. She needs to die.

His little sister who saved him, whose body he still saw in his nightmares, shot through with more arrows than he could count. The one he still thought was dead when he killed the first name on his list, the first guilty one. His little sister that loved books as much as him, but liked sneaking out much more.

Cassandra and her bear plushie that he’s pretty sure he saw in her room when he investigated the castle. Cassandra who is wearing their mother’s armor right now. Cassandra who told him she saw the Briarwoods kill their parents, from the balcony she’d snuck onto in the middle of the night and yet who STILL, after EVERYTHING, wanted to become one of them.

The monster in his heart screens and shoves and claws into him and settles there. Cassandra is still staring at him, waiting.

“Why?” She asks. “Percy, why?”

“Because you betrayed us,” he replies. “Because you betrayed me.”

“I had no choice,” Cassandra shouts this time. Her tears are rivers on her face, there’s blood splattered on there too. He is vaguely aware of a singing burning pain where he was hit by the sharp end of a sword. “They took me in, they forced me to work for them, and then…”

“And then you TURNED,” he roars out with venom and hatred and the pain, the greatest pain in the world. He loves her, and the voice in his head keeps saying he should kill her. Because he loves her. Because he trusted her. Because she was supposed to be gone. Wait…

He freezes a moment.

“Did you know she was alive?” He asks out loud. He can see that Cassandra is confused. His grip falters a second.

Of course I knew, Percival…

The hand holding the gun starts shaking. He doesn’t know why. But it does. Betrayal erupts again in his chest, and it hurts almost as much as Cassandra’s did. It floods through him like a cleansing fire.

Cassandra had no choice. Orthax however…

“Was her name supposed to be on the gun?”

Get your revenge, Percival. She deserves it.

The hand gets steadier again. The tunnel vision comes back and smoke billows from his eyes again. But this time, the knowledge is enough. Percy shoves back.

“Answer me!” He shouts. Cassandra takes a step back.

Yes. I knew of her betrayal, and I knew that you wouldn’t accept it. So I hid it until you were ready… Now KILL HER!

No. No, no, no.  Percy shoves himself back, forces himself to take a step back. The gun is shaking now, greatly, and he knows he doesn’t have enough control. Orthax can still pull the trigger.

“Run!” He shouts at his sister. “Cass, run!”

She looks at him, stares in confusion. “What-”

“For the love of Pelor, PLEASE, RUN, NOW!” He screams, and forces another step back.

Orthax pulls the trigger and the shot goes wide, but Cassandra’s eyes widen.

“Percy… I’m sorry…” She still isn’t running. What will get her to run?

Orthax’s claws sink into Percy’s soul and the pain is greater than anything he has experienced before. His eyes water, but the liquid is not clear. It’s red. He’s crying blood. He’s breaking.

Another shot fires. It hits closer to Cassandra this time. She’s frozen in place.

“Cass… Cass please…” He begs, voice twisted from the agony of resisting Orthax. “Please go. If you don’t, I’ll kill you.”

Cassandra’s hand goes down, her rapier hits the ground and she starts running. Percy doesn’t manage to take a step back. Orthax laughs in his ear, triomphant, and another shot fires.

Cassandra screams in pain. Orthax laughs. Percy screams.

Her body stumbles to the ground and the name disappears from the barrel of the gun. The gun is warm in his hand, his eyes are still crying blood and he feels something breaking, over and over again as she seizes. There’s blood everywhere, a sea of crimson, that’s all he can see.

She stops moving. Percy’s heart stops beating for a moment. He dies with her there, until Orthax brings him back to life. Until he’s forced to watch her body be turned over by his own foot, prisoner of his own skull. She’s gone. Her eyes are open but the light is gone, they’re glassy and hideous.

The hand brings the gun up. In the place of the names he spent years thinking of killing, new ones have appeared. Keyleth. Father Reynal. Keeper Yennen. Simon Whisk.

His eyes open in the darkness of the room he inhabits in the castle. His hands are red with blood, and so is most of his clothing. He doesn’t know where the red is from. He doesn’t care to go look for what he’s done when he wasn’t in control.

Orthax laughs in his mind.

[arclundarchivist]

A Raven’s Cry

(Spoilers for the Dalen’s Closet One Shot, I really enjoyed that final scene...but I felt like there were a few other characters that deserved more proper goodbyes.)

“I wish that Vax’ildan can say a few words at his sister's wedding.” The voice of a friend, power resounding in every word as it fought against the Divine Gate reached his ears and that of his Lady-Matron. She turned to look down at him for but a moment, before beckoning him towards her form, into the darkness beneath the cloak.

He walked free of the blackness that surrounded him, appearing on a pristine cliff side the sound of waves crashing against its base far below. Looking up he spotted...those he’d left behind, sadness, shock, and joy rolling off the like an encompassing fog. Like a beacon, his sister shone with the light of the Dawnfather, resplendent in her gown as tears began to well up in her eyes. Standing beside her Percival, slightly worse for wear, drenched in seawater stood staring at him with a hopeful but as always carefully coached expression, Pike stood before both of them, turning to look at him with...regret, tears welling in her eyes as well. Grog towered over the rest an unabashed wildly pleased smile on his face. Vax’s heart had not beat for over a year, but he knew if it still could it would have stopped when he spotted Keyleth standing beside Percy, shock in her eyes, tears on her cheeks soft sobs wracking her body. Lastly, his eyes fell to Scanlan, who stood there smiling his, “I’ve done a very good thing” smile his eyes misty as well.

“Scanlan Shorthalt.” He spoke, his voice raspier and slower than it had once been, a gasp from his twin causing him to pause longer than he had meant to, “You are toying with the designs of the gods still I see, old friend.”

For a moment the bard looks stunned, for once unable to find the proper words. When he finally spoke his voice was raw, “I didn’t have a present so...”

Several members of his family laugh just a bit sadly at the joke, and once he would have joined them, instead he simply sought to give them a bit more peace of mind.

“She will allow it.”  He watched as Scanlan’s face morphed into an immense grin.

“Okay.” His friend half-whispered, much of the tension fleeing his form.

“And thank you.” Vax finished, turning ever so slightly away but finding himself not fully able to look at the face of his twin as of yet. She meanwhile fought for his gaze, stepping towards him several times before back-peddling, crunching the bouquet in her hands, her whole body shaking.

“Hello.” He said, slowly turning to face her.

“Can you come over here?” His sister pleaded, and with that, whatever kept him from looking towards her broke. He felt a soft smile break across his face as she looked him over, gesturing plainly to remove the mask he now wore. As he slowly pulled it free of his face, he watched as her own face broke into a wide tearful smile.

“Am I allowed to hug him.” Vex pleaded, to no one at first before turning to look at Scanlan, who shrugged stammering out, “I don’t know how this works.”

Before the bard had finished speaking however his twin had pulled him into a desperately tight embrace. Slowly he embraced her as well, nestling his head into her shoulder. She laughed, light and happy and then he spoke.

“I am so glad for you.” As the pulled apart still embracing each other's arms, a true smile on both of their faces, “A child!”

The joy within him eclipsed anything he had felt in quite some time as his sister laughed, nodding her head furiously.

 “Yeah, a little girl,” Vex stated, still shaking, still on the verge of tears, but happy, so very happy at that moment. Vax felt the threads behind Creation pull and he could see his niece in the years to come growing, learning, being loved and giving it. It was to be a beautiful experience, one he would only be able to watch...from afar but still there would be beauty in her life, and within the lives of the many de Rolos that would follow her.

“Like our mother,” Vax stated, knowing full well who she would grow into.

 “Yes, named after her,” Vex stated, her smile melting away as the tears came rolling down, “I miss you so much!”

“I know,” Vax stated, speaking more truth in that sentence than he ever had in life. His sister continued to sob, her body shaking with grief as he reached out and stroked her cheek, wiping away tears as he did so. She looked up at the caress, his comforting smile greeting her.

“I am no longer worried for you.” He stated, turning to look at Percival who had been managing to fight off the tears, a soft smile on his face, “I know...the de Rolo family is born anew.”

Percy continued to pleasantly smile, while a laugh and grin fought its way through his sister’s tears.

“Congratulations on this your first, of many blessings Percival,” Vax stated, eliciting another joyful laugh from his sister.

“Thank you.” Percival stated, leaning in ever so slightly, “Talk to her idiot.”

Keyleth laughed at that, and once more Vax felt as though his world would stop at that moment, even as a smile crossed his face, “Thank you.”

He turned back to his sister and stared for a moment. Which was shattered by his sister suddenly shaking him, yelling as she did so.

“Don’t be weird! Talk normal, talk normal!” Bringing a smile to his face, which coaxed another from her.

“Don’t worry about me.” He stated, drawing another laugh from her, “I am sage and taken care of. I am always with you.”

“I know.” Vex stated, her voice ever so slightly dejected, “I know.”

“You will live,” Vax stated, not just to her but to all of his found family, drawing tears that streamed down Pike and Keyleth’s faces, wistful smiles from Grog and Scanlan and sighs from his sister and her groom.

“As long as all of your hearts are beating I will live within them.” He continued, his sister nodding along with his words, “And my love will never dim.”

He focused once more solely on his sister, and he could feel the ghosts of tears and his own grief welling up inside, “How beautiful you look.”

“I am so proud of all of you.” He stated once more to all of them.

“Turn around dear.” His sister stated, pushing his face ever so slightly to look at Keyleth who had stood silently, weeping only feet from him. From deep within a wave of guilt rose as he looked at her standing with grief-stricken serenity.

She couldn’t quite look at him, and he found himself once more not fully able to look at her, and at that moment the side he had grown to know the past year took over.

“Hail to the Tempest.” He stated, bowing low before her.

“Don’t be weird!” His sister demanded, slapping him on the back of his shoulder, “Go hug her!”

Keyleth’s laugh cut through the tension, and he rose to face her fully. He moved, sliding towards her and embraced his beloved fully within his arms his wings encompassing the both of them.

“Hello.” Such a simple word, but the roiling meanings and emotions behind it carried onward all the same, “My love, my home, Zephra blossoms under your boughs as I knew it would.”

“It’s not the same without you.” His beloved stated, sniffling slightly as she melted into his embrace.

“It will not be.” He stated, the plain honesty of it all hurting him as well.

“How am I supposed to get over you if you keep sending Ravens to me?” Keyleth asked, looking up at him with deep, painful grief in her eyes, a dejected laugh on her lips.

He stood silent for a moment, still wrapping her within his embrace, and for a moment felt the need to take a step back only for her arms to lock around him tighter.

He looked deeply into her eyes, and smiled sadly, “I am...imperfect as are the Gods...”

A silence followed that had he not already seen eternity he would assuredly have felt was one until Keyleth broke the tension with a soft smile, and a softer touch to the bottom of his chin.

“That was my poor attempt at humor.” She remarked sadly, “I’ll never get over you.”

“Nor I.” He responded, once more with a truth he had never known in life. It was then that the kissed, a long slow affair his cold skin against her warmth, the Tempest and the Raven locked in one final embrace. They broke apart from each other, and Vax felt just a small hint of grief for the words that followed next.

“But you will live and your life will touch thousands.” Over the grief rose pride, as he stared at the women he had wanted more than anything to be his bride, to be the mother of his children, to be his final home and saw instead her rising to become a bastion of safety, calm and leadership for generations to come.

“Thanks to you,” Keyleth said, a sad smile on her lips as she rested her head against his shoulder.

He saw the threads branching out like the antlers atop of her head, he could see her finding new love, raising children that would not be his...though their futures could intersect with his in a number of ways, “Your children...”

He stopped as he watched Keyleth slowly and sadly shake her head, “I’ll watch over hers...and her.”

She looked up and he followed her gaze to his sister, who gave her own saddened smile.

“For as long as I live,” Keyleth stated, already the threads of her future realigning before his eyes.

Vax pulled her in tighter, his head bowed as he whispered into her ear, “I am far but not gone.”

“We know.” Keyleth returned, nuzzling into his neck ever so slightly.

The grief and guilt inside him became too much to bear as the last words left his lips, “Forgive me.”

Keyleth leaned back in their embrace and looked him deeply in the eyes. She began to shake her head, a soft smile playing across her lips, “There’s nothing to forgive.”

She kissed him on the cheek as she caressed the other, “Nothing. We get to go on because of you. It’s not taken lightly.”

He looked up and away from her his eyes falling on Pike, tears fresh in her eyes, “Your Grace.”

“I...I’m happy to know that you’re safe.” Pike choked out, though her smile was as luminous as it had ever been.

He turned to Grog, a slight grin crossing his face, “De Doink.”

Grog nodded, “Vax, I miss you brother.”

He then looked out and found the crowd that had come to aid and then watch the marriage of his sister, spotting the shocked faces of Allura and Kima, tears in the former's eyes, while the latter gave him a lazy wave and just shook her head with a smile. Tary had taken a step back, for all his pompous air he had decided to not insert himself at this moment.

“You are doing good work,” Vax stated, his voice a whisper but Taryon started as if it had been said by someone directly next to him. He smiled at Vex, wiping a few tears from his eyes and nodded, mouthing, “Thank you.”

He then turned to Scanlan, who looked at him with the love of a best friend, mentor and well even the pseudo-father-figure he and his sister had thrown upon him. Vax smiled and intoned once more, “Thank you.”

He stepped away from Keyleth and made to walk away from the group a bit when a voice rang out across the cliffside!

“Vax! Wait!” As he turned around he saw a small figure pry their way free of the crowd and then race towards him as fast as their legs could carry them. As if emboldened by that action two more figures broke free of the crowd and made their way towards him, one almost as frantic as the first figure and the last at a more sedative pace.

Velora raced towards him her brown hair bobbing frantically in the wind, the owlbear feather pinned within holding firm despite the speed at which she raced towards him. Tears were flying free of her face and falling to the ground behind her.

He knelt down, opening his arms as he did so as she fell into his arms with a joyful sob. He picked her up as he had done two years ago, her arms wrapped fiercely around his neck.

“You’re back!” She cried, pulling away tears still streaming down her face, “I told Simon you’d come back!”

“For...for this moment yes I have returned,” Vax stated, smiling softly at his younger sister.

“For the moment?” Velora asked, new tears beginning to brim in her eyes, “Why, why can’t you stay?”

“I made a promise Velora.” Vax said, wiping the tears from her eyes and moving a bit of her windswept hair from her face, “And one must always keep their promises.”

“I don’t want you to go!” She cried out, her grief magnified by how young she was, “It’s not fair! Please stay! Please!”

Vax looked up at Keyleth and Vex, both with fresh tears in their eyes, “You’re right little sister, it is not fair...but I will never be far from you. I am your big brother, and that will never change. The blood in your heart is the same as mine, and you will always carry a part of me with you, isn’t that right Simon?”

The Belt in response to his voice unfurled, long and sinuous and curled up Velora’s arm, his head bopping her playfully in the cheek, his tongue shooting out to lick away a few of the tears.

“Take good care of each other.” Vax stated, and know that if you ever hear a raven in the middle of the night...it’s a friend of mine making sure you sleep safe and sound.”

“You’re friends with Ravens?” Velora asked, childlike wonder briefly replacing her grief.

“I’m very good friends with their Queen.” He returned giving her a soft smile, as he turned and spotted the others that had come up to him.

“Velora darling, come over here please,” Vex said, opening her arms into a welcoming embrace which Velora greedily took to.

Vax turned to the second figure, his long ash-blonde hair also tousled by the wind, his young face marred with grief and anger.

“Kynan Leore...it’s been some time since we last spoke,” Vax stated, looking him deeply in the eys.

“I...I failed again sir.” He said, refusing to meet Vax’s eyes, “I couldn’t protect the people I was supposed to.”

Vax reached up and placed a comforting hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “I would never blame you for what happened here today. Nor would anyone here, I know as well as you that had Sylas Briarwood come for Lady Cassandra, you would have fought with every single ounce of your strength and spirit to keep him far from her.”

“I...I don’t deserve your praise sir.” Kynan stated, still looking down at his feet.

“You more than almost anyone deserve my praise.” Vax stated, “You have come far in spite of me, and I know that you’re future will be one bright and filled with more than a few surprises."

Kynan stood up a bit taller but still fought meeting Vax’s gaze, “I promise I’ll do my best to keep your family safe, even though...they have much more capable guardians than me.”

“You are more capable than you think, and despite your doubts of yourself I know you will continue to be more than worthy of that second chance,” Vax said.

Kynan finally looked up, a few tears sliding free of his deep brown eyes, “Thank you Vax.”

Vax then turned...and moved to embrace the final person, Shaun Gilmore.

“Shaun, I am sorry,” Vax stated softly, as Gilmore hugged him, more sedated the Keyleth but still comforting and intense in its own way.

“Vax, the only thing you will ever have to apologize to me for...is being much too pretty for your own good,” Gilmore stated, with a laugh on his lips and tears in his eyes. Keyleth laughed as well, a beautiful happy laugh.

Vax pulled away, staring at the man who had once had his heart, and who still carried within his own heart a love for him, and smiled ever so slightly.

“If you won’t take my apology will give you something that you more rightly deserve instead,” Vax stated, still smiling warmly.

With that, he kissed Gilmore on the forehead, and then whispered two words, “Goodbye.”

Gilmore laughed, tears tracking down his face, “Thank you.”

With that Vax stepped back, turning to look at them all, a single tear tracking down his cheek, his sisters, found, twin and younger, his found brothers, the young man who had only ever wanted to follow in his footsteps, the man he had once loved and the woman he still did and smiled, “Thank you. Live.”

He looked over and spotted Trinket approaching, and reached out to scratch the great bear under the chin as he disappeared, “No, I didn’t forget you boy, I know you’ll take care of them.”

Trinket huffed appreciatively, and marched back towards Velora and Vex, licking the tears off the former's face, eliciting a peel of laughter.

And as returned to the darkness beyond he heard Vex cry out on last time, “Wait! What about the boots?”

Another tear tracked down his cheek, his laughter joining the echoes of his friends as he was carried beyond the Divine Gate for the final time.

[vethyourhalflingmother]

third session of not critical role critical de rolo was today, back after a four month hiatus! 

here’s the last session if you haven’t read it!

to remind you of our players, we have:

Vax’ildan “Bard Boy” de Rolo, (Bard), played by @indigoire

Cessair “Cess” de Rolo, (Ranger/Alchemist) & Trinket, played by @winking-owl

Elaine de Rolo, (Paladin), played by @monkbeauregard

Percival “Freddie” de Rolo IV, (Artificer), played by @swiftbell

Maeve de Rolo, (Cleric), played by @because-seconds-not-the-same

the theme for this episode was finding mom & dad & oh boy they aren’t doing great:

-(dm note: i ended the last session summary saying percy was holding animus; i meant to say he was holding retort! he starts combat with retort, and it’s pretty relevant to what happened today)

-(second dm note: percy and vex are modified under the in-game explanation that it’s been over 20 years since they’ve been out actively adventuring)

-the party started by rolling initiative because something was clearly wrong with percy

-freddie went first and buffed his siblings’ hp

-trinket tried to approach percy & found a not-so-warm welcome when percy brushed him off

-elaine hid behind a tree and remained there for most of combat

-percy shot trinket, much to the distress of all my players (and something about playing percy gives you Great Luck because i rolled that at disadvantage and got a nat20 and a natural 18) 

-bard boy put a cloud of daggers on percy 

-maeve also buffed the team from a safe distance beside elaine

-cess decided to get really close to percy and cast protection from good and evil on him, which was ultimately very helpful but was not great for cess

-because at the top of the round, freddie pulled her out of percy’s way & percy did in fact shoot her, even with the disadvantage. just a flesh wound tho

-elaine and maeve continued helping from a safe distance of over 20 feet away

-more shots were fired by percy, but he was missing a bit

-bard boy used a mage hand to get percy’s gun away from him (because mage hand does disarm if your dm likes your plan enough!) 

-cess noticed that percy seemed to be possessed by something and that somehow they had to get that thing out of him

-percy pulled out animus - and immediately misfired, doing damage to himself

-the quarter-elves seemed to noticed throughout combat that their father could hear them at times, and seemed to actively fighting against whatever was wrong with him (as evidence by shaking, twitching, eye-closing, head-shaking, various expressions of shock after being hit, and a receding/pulsing of the bulging veins in his face)

-freddie shot his father with a crossbow bolt. because that’s what happens when your family is alive in dnd. trinket sliced open percy’s arm. the daggers rained down upon him. 

-my players finally let themselves believe that the power of love was the answer after all, despite their earlier skepticism, because my puzzle is “cheesy” i guess

-freddie and elaine, the twins, started talking (/whining) at their father

-trinket tackled percy and pinned him to the ground

-percy coughed up blood and an oozy black shadow creature - and he was back to (relatively) normal! and stewing in Guilt and Trauma once more, of course

-literally every single quarter-elf used a healing spell on percy, which almost brought him back to max HP

-percy explained that he and vex had gone into the parchwood to find a missing child, and that they were attacked by undead, which they easily defeated... and then he didn’t remember anything

-the party set up camp for the night

-freddie asked percy if he knew corinthia the drow wizard; percy said that he remembered a nursery tale about an elf in a tower that his mother told him, but that he didn’t know anything else

-there were three watches: first consisting of elaine and freddie, and they ribbed at each other & told jokes. elaine insulted freddie by calling him straight. the second was bard boy and maeve, bard boy tried to startle maeve with his eyeshine and maeve was not impressed, the third was cess and percy, percy apologized, cess tried to give him the gun talk again, percy was like okay but this was literally me not a weapon i created. 

-in the morning bard boy made breakfast. cess confirmed the food he found was not toxic. freddie still didn’t like the taste.

-the party took off into the parchwood following trinket’s nose

-bard boy asked percy about his spellnotes written in celestial; percy explained they were vex’s idea, and that he’d only been transcribing them for her because she did not speak celestial, as that seemed like the appropriate language to write spells tailored to the undead in

-the sky started to get unnaturally dark, to the point where those who did not have darkvision (everyone but bard boy), could barely see

-trinket led the party to a temple-like structure that reminded everyone, unsettlingly enough, of the corrupted temple beneath castle whitestone, if that temple was made hastily from wood instead of stone

-trinket led the party around the temple, where they found vex among corpses killed by arrows, though her bow and sheaf were nowhere in sight. vex was unconscious. it took some effort and some rope to wake her up, but everyone really leaned into the power of love thing this time so it was much quicker - though she still had to cough up the inky gross darkness blob as well

-vex remembered more than percy. she said that the undead they fought were a distraction, and that she herself had fought possessed percy before succumbing to the possession, and that she remembered a woman in a grey robe. this woman was not among the dead. unfortunately most of the dead seemed to be members of whitestone’s pale-guard

-vex and percy had a tender moment where percy cringed at having heard that he attacked vex also, and vex told him that it was not his fault. (very odd but gratifying to rp the greatest couple of all time with myself)

-the party decided to explore the temple in the next session 

[nicolewrites]

heartstrings - i

hurray for writing motivation and late nights and realizing that this thing that started as a one-shot is entirely too long for that. so it’s a multichapter fic now though it’ll probably be max 3 parts.

Rating: T Genre: Romance Characters: [Vax’ildan and Keyleth] [Percival de Rolo and Vex’ahlia] Words: 6,979

Kiki @keylethashari has tagged you in a tweet: New Q&A up and we’re talking music! creds to @vexmachina @vaxmachina @burtreynoldsesq @thelumineers and others!! // CR1 Vaxleth+Perc’ahlia YouTuber/Musician/Celebrity AU

AO3

Vax had played guitar since he was seven years old. He had sung along back then too, his voice wavering at his young age while his sister’s voice drifted along clearly overtop. Through his whole life, music had stabilized him and had bound him so tightly to his sister that he did almost anything she asked.

In the end, it was Vax’s close friend Gilmore who insisted that the twins make a YouTube channel even if they just uploaded one video in the end. Vex was all for it, but she liked the spotlight. Vax hesitated, but, Vex and Gilmore were his favourite people, so when they ganged up on him, he caved.

Vex argued that they should use their names, Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan, as the channel name, but it felt too personal, so Vax looked again to Gilmore. Gilmore suggested a play on words and the twins considered it. Three days later, Vax shook his sister awake with the name they would eagerly assign to the channel as they uploaded their first video.

They went simple for the first cover, choosing an Ed Sheeran song that basically broke the music industry. They sat side by side on Vex’s bed and Vax spent most of the video singing while staring at his hands as he played the guitar. Vex floated through the tune, smiling at the camera and her brother.

It took them a while to get the footage cut and to a reasonable sound quality, but as of March 3rd, Vox Machina’s YouTube channel went live with a single video: Thinking Out Loud.

Vex was quick to share it to her Twitter and Instagram, and Gilmore retweeted her tweet, and between them, they got a few hundred views and about 10 subscribers off of one single video.

Vax agreed to film another video when he saw how happy it was making his sister. He fiddled with chords and eventually they settled on a cover of Landslide that made them both happy. Vax let Vex sing while he played and just harmonized where it was appropriate.

This video got a few more views and the subscriber count on the channel jumped to around 200. Vex was giddy and dragged her keyboard in front of the camera and filmed one of her own covers. Vax was content with this as he headed off to work at the café he worked at.

After about a week, he found himself in front of the camera again as Vex insisted the duo act was more popular. Vax agreed on the condition that he picked the song and they did a stripped down version of House of the Rising Sun. This time, Vex pushed him into the lead and Vax sang, but he still restricted the amount of time he actually looked into the camera.

A few more months flicked by and the twins worked hard at their day jobs to support their tiny, crappy apartment. Any time not spent at work was spent practicing music, filming, and editing to make more music. It was a tough life, but the consistent presence of music made both Vex and Vax a lot happier than they had been in a long while.

Eventually, they had fifteen covers uploaded and around 300 subscribers, most of whom came from friends or people following Vex’ahlia and Gilmore on Twitter.

It’s a hot summer night when Vax couldn’t sleep and he rolled over to check the time. His screen was so clogged with notifications that it took him almost a full minute to process that something was happening. It was all notifications for his Twitter page and requests to follow his Instagram account.

Vax pulled his phone closer to his face and blinked at the screen in shock. He opened Twitter. He had almost 8 thousand followers compared to the 50 ish he had had the previous night. His notifications were clogged with people tagging both him and Vex in tweets sharing links to their videos, making song requests, and just generally complimenting them.

Vax’s brain short-circuited and he quit the Twitter app quickly. He had 17 unread texts and over 300 Instagram notifications. He ignored Instagram and opened the text app. A few were from work friends or mutual acquaintances that were questioning his sudden popularity explosion, but 9 of the messages were from Gilmore.

Vax scrolled through Gilmore’s messages to the first unread one and saw it’s a link to a YouTube video. He pressed it and was taken to the YouTube channel of one Scanlan Shorthalt, one of the biggest YouTube musicians on the platform. Vax knew that Scanlan released a video each month discussing good YouTube musicians that he’d found on the platform.

Vax skimmed quickly through the video before a clip of him and Vex appeared on the screen. They were currently ranked number one to watch for YouTube talent by Scanlan who praised their range and musicality despite low production costs.

Vax fumbled through his apps and pulled up Twitter again, doing a quick search for Scanlan Shorthalt. Scanlan’s page came up, and the words “follows you” stared Vax in the face.

He heard a shriek from down the hall and he realized that Vex must have just discovered the same thing he had. He rolled off his bed, phone in hand, and made it halfway to her room before she burst out of it, brandishing her phone in his face.

“We were number one of Burt Reynold’s Star Search!” she basically screeched. “We have seven thousand subscribers on YouTube and I’ve got twelve thousand Twitter followers.”

“I guess we should probably thank Mr. Shorthalt,” Vax muttered. “For the publicity.”

Vex’s eyes widened and she opened her Twitter app quickly.

Vex’ahlia @vexmachina • Just Now

Thank you from @vaxmachina and I to @burtreynoldsesq for the feature on Star Search! New music coming soon!! #voxmachina

Vax raised an eyebrow and his sister smirked. “I guess we’ve got a big thing going for us, brother dearest.”

Vax’s phone chimed in his hand as his notifications blew up from Vex’s tweet. “I guess so,” he mumbled.

-

Their popularity didn’t, to his surprise, taper off shortly after Scanlan’s video. Instead, their subscriber count climbed to 40 thousand and they had nearly 70 thousand Twitter followers between the two of them.

Gilmore took them out for drinks to celebrate the release of their next cover, Everything Has Changed, and Vax knew he hadn’t seen Vex this excited about anything in a long, long time. Gilmore tweeted a photo of the three of them, Kima, and Allura, two other friends, at a bar and immediately blew up on Twitter.

Kima found the whole thing hilarious and pushed the twins up to the karaoke machine the bar had. Neither twin was one to back down from a challenge and Gilmore tweeted out 4 videos of them singing while Allura recorded the whole thing for a future video.

Vax continued to allow Vex to drag him to her room to record music and he started to love the process of making the videos and picking the songs as much as he used to love just playing casually. Their popularity grew slowly and Scanlan featured them on his Star Search again the next month.

The internet seemed to have realized that Vax wasn’t a social media person because he only followed his sister, Gilmore, Kima, Allura, and a handful of others and hardly ever tweeted or posted. He would share the link to a new video when they posted, but not much else. He hovered around 30 thousand Twitter followers which was still completely insane.

Vex, on the other hand, easily cracked 100 thousand followers on her own as she promoted the channel, interacted with their fans, and teased new music and their personal lives. Vax was content to let Vex handle all the personal questions and he only really responded to tagged tweets when people got confused and named them as a couple instead of twin siblings.

Their growth was pretty steady and they could usually predict when their channel would hit the big milestones. They released 3 extra videos in honour of fifty thousand followers and were preparing a Q&A video for 100 thousand followers.

One day in October, Vex was sitting in the main part of the café where Vax worked part-time. He was wiping a counter nearby when he glanced over at her and she was staring slack-jawed at her phone. He stepped to her side quickly and she turned the screen towards him.

Their channel, which had previously been hovering around 89 thousand subscribers, had jumped almost straight to 150 thousand subscribers. Vax froze and swiped at the page to refresh it. The number increased to 180 thousand subscribers. He exchanged a shocked look with Vex.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Vex shook her head mutely and they both resumed staring at her screen until she got a Twitter notification.

Kiki @keylethashari has tagged you in a tweet: New Q&A up and we’re talking music! creds to @vexmachina @vaxmachina @burtreynoldsesq @thelumineers and others!!

Vex clicked on the notification and her phone jumped apps to Twitter. Vax hadn’t the slightest clue who this Kiki was, but the tweet was almost brand new and already had over a thousand likes and over 300 retweets.

Vex glanced at her brother. “Do you know who Keyleth is?” Her voice was giddy with excitement.

“Haven’t a clue,” he replied honestly.

Vex smacked him. “She’s one of the most popular vloggers on YouTube and the best part is, she’s actually really nice.”

Vex turned back to her phone and pulled up Keyleth’s Twitter page. Keyleth had 1.5 million followers and was following around a thousand accounts. Vax glanced briefly at the tiny bubbled icon and felt his heart skip a beat. Keyleth had fiery red hair, vibrant eyes, and freckle-covered skin.

She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he heard a heavy cough from behind the counter. His coworker was giving him an odd look. Vax flashed an apologetic smile and hurried back to the counter.

“Big news or something?” his co-worker asked. “Usually you and Vex can at least wait until after your shift to chat.”

Vax shrugged. “Got shouted out by a major YouTuber and may have accidentally jumped to fame, but we’ll see.”

He turned back to the espresso bar before he saw his co-worker's reaction.

-

Three hours later, Vax was staring at his Twitter feed. He had retweeted Keyleth’s tweet, as had Vex, and the vlogger’s response had been to follow both of them on the platform which had only increased the influx of followers he was gaining.

Vex had tweeted a sweet message out a while ago, and Vax was still dumbstruck. Vex was currently in the process of skimming through their channel’s email, looking at a couple of offers from producers which had appeared suddenly.

Swallowing tensely, Vax clicked on Keyleth’s profile and then clicked on the little mail icon, leading him to her DM inbox.

@vaxmachina: hey, i really don’t know what to say besides thank you for all the crazy publicity we’ve been getting. it means a lot to my sister and i.

He hit send before he could think better of it. He dropped his phone onto the couch beside him and looked over at Vex. She was scrolling through stuff on her laptop and looked up when she felt his gaze.

“We should write our own stuff,” Vex said as soon as they made eye contact.

Vax raised an eyebrow. “No more covers?”

Vex waved at him dismissively. “Fewer covers. Come on, I know we’ve both been writing lyrics for so long. We have all these offers of people who want to work with us, we have over 100 thousand YouTube subscribers out of nowhere, and we have a chance to get out of this dump.”

Vax smiled. “When we moved out to LA after mom died we found this dump, Sister, it’s been good to us.”

Vex returned his grin. “And now we can both quit our shitty day jobs and do what we’ve been meant to do all this time.”

Vax’s phone chimed before he could reply.

@keylethashari: Oh but of course! You guys have such a unique sound and range and I’ve loved everything I’ve heard since I found you through Scanlan.

@keylethashari: I’m eagerly awaiting new content from you guys too!!

Vax blinked at the quick reply and easy positivity from Keyleth that he’d received.

“Hello? Brother? Are you still there?” Vex demanded. Vax snapped his head up and she tipped hers, questioning, in response.

Vax waved his phone. “I DMed Keyleth to thank her and she’s awaiting new music, apparently.”

Vex gave an airy laugh. “This is crazy. Absolutely crazy.”

-

As it turns out, crazy had been an understatement. Keyleth’s video continued to provide them with fame, and Scanlan shouted them out for the third month in a row. Still, as it turned out, they weren’t the only big YouTubers taking note of Vox Machina.

“Vax,” Vex called from across the room.

Vax spun in his desk chair, looking away from the monitor where he had been editing their latest video, raising an eyebrow at Vex. “What?”

She waved her phone at him. “Check Twitter, you goof. We’ve gotten another big shoutout and I bet you know who these folks are better than I do.”

Vax blinked, but Vex turns away, back to the keyboard she had been playing a moment before. Vax minimized the video editor and pulled up Twitter. He had a bunch of new followers and a couple of new tags, but a quick search through Vex’s page gave him what he was looking for.

Pike @thetrickfootp • 1 hour ago

It’s that time again! Time for @barbariangrog and I to roast @burtreynoldsesq but at least he’s given us @vexmachina and @vaxmachina this time. youtube.com/watch?v=fTgqwhK

The tweet was fairly recent and Vex was right, he did know who it was from. Pike Trickfoot was a variety YouTuber who did a lot of gaming streams and videos along with the occasional vlog and workout video. Her channel, Major Monstahs, was a collab with her and her best friend Grog Strongjaw. One of their most notorious video series was the monthly roast video that they published to make fun of Scanlan, who was also a very good friend of theirs.

Vax clicked the link in the tweet and it brought him to the newest video on Major Monstahs. The video, titled September 2018, Scanlan FINALLY hits something good, started and Vax saw Pike and Grog sitting together on a couch, with a view of their TV edited over top of their lower bodies as they watched some of Scanlan’s more recent videos.

Pike and Grog were playful and teasing as they roasted Scanlan while also throwing the occasional backhanded compliment. He skimmed through it quickly and played it again as soon as he realized they were reviewing Star Search for the month.

“And well, the one thing Scanlan actually did that was good, was introduce me to Vox Machina! Man, their sound is so nice and they sound great together. Even Grog, who’s more of a heavy rock kind of guy likes them,” Pike said as she gestured animatedly.

Vax chuckled and paused the video. It had over 18,000 views and the channel has 2.3 million subscribers. Two clicks later and Vax was looking at the homepage for Vox Machina’s channel. They had 260 thousand subscribers now and the channel was looking better than ever.

Gilmore had taken some pretty professional shots of Vex and Vax posing so they finally had a good icon, and Allura had created a neat looking text banner for them that served as the channel background. They had invested in a better camera and a real microphone along with a better video editing software so even the videos were of a higher quality.

With all of their new equipment and the sudden burst of fame, both Vex and Vax had quit their part-time jobs and were in the process of packing all of their stuff to move to a better apartment in the better part of town. Their lives had completely turned around, and as Vax listened to Vex start to sing over by the piano, he didn’t regret any of it.

They had stuck to releasing covers on the channel so far, but they were working on more original stuff. Vex was polishing the instrumentals for a pair of songs she had written, and Vax was working on lyrics for a piece he was writing.

His phone chimed and he lifted it.

@keylethashari: hmmm, i like that verse a lot but maybe something about where you guys started. You were trying to be grounded, right?

Vax smiled when he saw the message. Since the first time Keyleth had tweeted at him and he had DMed her, they had been keeping a steady conversation over Twitter and had become decent friends. Vax has sent her a couple of lines of lyrics and asked for her opinion, and she was, naturally, teeming with useful advice. He quickly typed out his reply.

@vaxmachina: that’s pretty good! hm now I have an idea, thanks Kiki

It was only a minute before she replied.

@keylethashari: no prob!!

@keylethashari: also hey I saw the Monstahs shouted you guys out during their roast! That’s awesome!! :)

@vaxmachina: :) yeah, pretty cool

Vax placed his phone down and looked back at the editing he had been working on. Struck by a different sense of inspiration, he saved and jumped up from his desk, heading towards his room.

Though most everything was packed away in boxes, the guitar was leaning against the bedside table as it always was. He grabbed it and sat on the edge of his bed. He plucked a couple strings before moving into a C-F-A-G chord progression warm up.

He then played a soft melody and hummed under his breath. He repeated the pattern, changing the root chord and adding an inverted chord in for good measure. He went back to the original chord and let his mind whir.

“One day they’ll tell the story of the girl they left for dead,” he sang gently. Vex’s music stopped abruptly and he heard her walk in the direction of his room. Vax grinned. “Indomitable, unbeatable, unbreakable, she said,” he continued. He paused and strummed an A minor and a C arpeggio.

“She had fire, but he was the fuel,” Vex sang back, slipping through the door and leaning against the far wall. “Those who left them would soon be the fool.”

Vax nodded along with his sister before putting the guitar down. He pulled up his conversation with Keyleth. “From the ashes they arose, starving and broken, you know how it goes.”

Vex clapped excitedly. “Wow that’s really good,” she said. She crossed the room and peered over his shoulder at the phone screen. Her eyebrows shot up and she rested her elbow on the crook of his shoulder. “Advice from the girlfriend?”

Vax shook his shoulders, tossing her off. “Butt out Vex, it’s just a couple DMs. She’s nice.”

Vex rolled her eyes. “Yeah and the last person who you made heart eyes like that at was Gilmore and that was years ago. You like her.”

“Well it doesn’t matter much, does it? She’s a big shot, we’re just on the rise.”

Vex stepped away, pausing to look back at him. “Record her something exclusive,” she suggested. “A snippet or a preview or something. She’d love it.”

Vax looked contemplatively between his sister and his guitar. “I’ll think about it.”

-

He did end up sending Keyleth a small recording of the song that would eventually become Vax’s original song, Phoenix. Naturally, she loved it and had demanded he stop wasting time and finish it so that she could brag about how much she loved it.

The move to their new apartment was finally done and the place was high class. It had originally been far out of their price range, but the real estate agent had apparently seen some of their covers and Vex had charmed him into accepting a much lower price than originally agreed in exchange for some authentic autographs. The building was rich and apparently housed the places belonging to several other celebrities, both internet and from the film or music industries. Vax hadn’t seen anything to back up the rumour, but it was an interesting thought.

There was a coffee shop just around the corner that he liked to frequent: it reminded him just enough of his old job that he felt comfortable enough there to hum and tap out rhythms while he scrawled lyrics or edited videos. They’d recently released a cover of Just Give Me a Reason which, thanks to Keyleth using it in the background of one of her cooking tutorials, had quickly become their most viewed and most beloved videos.

Their Q&A video had become popular enough that they’d made it a monthly tradition and Vax was currently filtering through submitted questions to put together a good panel for variety. He was sorting through a whole slew of questions inquiring about the relationship status of both twins when the bell above the café door chimed. He allowed himself a cursory glance up out of curiosity, but the people he saw had him stop dead.

It was Pike Trickfoot with her blonde hair coiled into two twin buns atop her head and her smile as sunny as ever. At her side was Grog Strongjaw who was laughing loudly at something the third member of their party had said. Scanlan Shorthalt stood between Grog and Pike, smirking proudly.

Vax was frozen in his seat. He knew the three of them were close friends and that they were definitely in a more influencer-influenced area of L.A. now, but in the two weeks they’d been in their new place, he had never seen any of them around the small coffee shop. He found himself unable to tear his gaze from the trio as they approached the counter to order.

By chance, Pike glanced back at Grog and her gaze landed on Vax staring at her from nearby. Her lips parted in shock before curling back into her brilliant, sunny smile. Vax blinked and looked back at his computer, almost praying that she hadn’t recognized him. He stared blankly at the screen in front of him for a long moment before someone cleared their throat next to him.

Pike was standing right next to his table. “Hello, I’m a huge fan of you and your sister,” she said pleasantly. She slid into the seat across from him without asking and beamed at him. “I’m Pike, and you must be Vax, right?”

“Well, I’m definitely not Vex,” Vax replied. He was a little shocked that she was sitting with him, and as such, his brain couldn’t find more words.

“Wow, ever since Scanlan found you guys, I’ve been listening non-stop!” She glanced at the laptop before her. “Working hard, I see.”

Vax shrugged. “At least this type of work is fun.”

Pike laughed. “You should try streaming: all the fun of videos with almost none of the editing pressure.” Vax cracked a grin. Pike was definitely as charming and sweet as her videos made her out to be.

“Pike! You just disappeared on us!” A voice boomed and Vax and Pike both looked up sharply to see the hulking form of Grog above them.

Before anyone could say anything, Scanlan smoothly stepped around Grog and offered Pike a to-go cup with a flourish. “Your coffee, my lady,” he said teasingly.

Pike smiled and accepted the cup. She waved a hand between Grog, Scanlan, and Vax. “Grog, Scanlan, you’ll never believe who this is.”

Grog looked puzzled for a long moment, but recognition flashed on Scanlan’s face immediately. “Ah half of my new favourite music duo!”

“Nice to meet you,” Vax replied carefully.

Scanlan spun and snagged two chairs from the table next to them and dragged them to the table so the four of them were crammed around one small table. “Scanlan Shorthalt, at your service.”

“Vax. But, I guess you already knew that.”

Grog pointed at Vax. “There’s normally two of you.”

Vax smirked. “Vex’ahlia is currently at our apartment.”

Scanlan leaned forward conspiratorially. “So any insight on who you guys are considering signing with? I’ve heard a lot of offers are going your way.”

“I think last we discussed Whitestone Records was our first choice.”

Scanlan nodded sagely. “They’re great. I have an in there, so I can definitely shoot them a message.”

Pike elbowed Scanlan. “Or you know, just invite them tonight!”

Scanlan glanced at Pike. “Pike, you really are a genius.” He looked back at Vax. “My good sir, it would be an honour if you and your sister joined us and our friends tonight at my place. Going to be a small party, but it’s great for networking if you’re going to be into that kind of thing.”

Vax raised an eyebrow. “I should call Vex.”

Pike nodded. “Of course. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you Vax. I hope to see you tonight! Come on boys, let’s roll.” She stood up from the table and gave Vax one last sunny grin before she swept away. Grog and Scanlan both smiled and followed her out, leaving Vax alone with a racing mind.

It took a long moment for his thoughts to slow down enough to be decipherable, but just as he pulled out his phone to call Vex, it pinged with a new Twitter notification.

Pike @thetrickfootp • 48 seconds ago

They really exist, guys! @barbariangrog, @burtreynoldsesq, and I just had the immense pleasure of meeting @vaxmachina in person and now I absolutely must meet @vexmachina tonight! #voxmachinaisreal #voxmachina

Scanlan almost immediately retweeted the message, as did Grog and Vax chuckled. He liked it before replying to it with the side-eye emoji. His notifications dinged several times, but before he could check any of them, his phone buzzed as his sister’s photo filled the screen.

“Vex’ahlia, hello,” he said as he answered her call.

“You met Pike, Grog, and Scanlan?” she demanded, forgoing a greeting.

“I just had the pleasure. I did invite you to join me here today so it’s your loss.”

“Oh fuck off, Vax. What happened?”

Vax paused, thinking about the best way to drop the news on his sister. “What are you doing tonight?”

-

One DM to Scanlan and a twenty minute Uber ride later, the twins arrived at the Shorthalt mansion. The place was spectacular, as expected, and they could hear the music from the road. Vax was suddenly almost nervous. Vex linked her arm with his and tugged him up the driveway.

“Come on brother dearest, we have some socializing to do!”

The bouncer at the door barely even cast them a glance as he waved them inside. Light flashed through the room and people milled about exuberantly. Vax spun as he walked taking in the open foyer, glittering decorations and the dozens of people dancing and singing and talking. Scanlan really didn’t know the meaning of “small party”.

“You made it!”

Vax turned and saw Pike and Grog weaving towards them. Pike was grinning and wearing a sparkly cocktail dress with her hair still in her “fun-buns”. Grog was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but Vax wouldn’t be surprised if he was wearing that all the time. Vex smiled brilliantly at the pair and pulled Vax forward.

“So this is the famous Pike Trickfoot and Grog Strongjaw, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you both,” Vex greeted, her charm oozing from every word.

Grog laughed and waved his hand at both twins. “See! There are two of you.”

Vex laughed and Pike elbowed Grog. “You must be Vex’ahlia, then.”

“Just Vex is great.”

Vax smiled as Vex wrapped her arm through Pike's as the two women chatted pleasantly. Vax turned an eye to Grog who looked increasingly bored with the small talk. “Hey big guy, is there somewhere I can get a drink around here?”

Grog and Vex both perked up at the same time.

“A drink?” Grog asked.

“Something hard, preferably,” Vex chimed in, a smirk playing at her lips. “We’re going to need some courage for this night.”

“Then let’s go take shots!” Pike cheered. “I know where Scanlan keeps his best liquor. Plus, he’ll never get mad at us for drinking it if we say it was my idea.”

-

Several shots and a lot of hand-shaking later, the party was still in full-swing and Vax was fully buzzed. Vex had disappeared from his side an hour ago, sliding off to work her charms on an attractive guy with stark white hair who looked vaguely familiar. Knowing his sister, he would probably be headed home on his own tonight.

Scanlan, Pike, and Grog had all spoken with him at different times during the night, though the last he’d seen of Grog was him absolutely destroying the competition at a drinking game inside while Pike and Scanlan had disappeared onto the dance floor. Despite Pike’s insistence that the two were just friends, Vax had seen the identical grins they wore as they danced and sang along to the music.

He leaned back against the wall and sipped his drink. Rich people parties were definitely different from what he was used to. Not for the first time, Vax wished they had thought to invite Gilmore along with them. Gilmore was both a better social creature than Vax, but also an excellent networker, especially on behalf of Vox Machina since he was the closest thing the twins had to an agent or manager.

He was just considering slipping out of the party when a blaze of red hair along the side wall caught his attention. For a moment he wondered if it was possible that it could be Keyleth, but he forced himself not to get his hopes up. Most of the people who were at the party had tweeted about it at least once during the night and Keyleth’s Twitter had been notably dead. Still, he peeled himself off of his wall and headed to where he saw the brilliant flash of hair.

He slid between two dancers and ducked under the exuberant flailing arms of another. He twisted to get out of the way of two dashing figures and was rocked back on his heels trying to regain his balance when he stumbled back into someone. Quickly turning, he held his hands up and burst out an apology.

“Sorry!”

His eyes and brain finally caught up with the rest of him as he noticed who he had unceremoniously crashed into. It was a beautiful young woman with flaming red hair and fair skin that was dotted with freckles across her face and shoulders. She was wearing a strapless green cocktail dress that matched her eyes and was staring at him with wide eyes. Vax blinked and his brain short-circuited.

Keyleth was staring at him and he had just bumped into her like an absolute fool.

“Vax?” she asked carefully. The uncertainty in her tone was charming and her voice was as melodic as he recognized it to be from her videos.

“Yeah, and you must be Keyleth,” he replied.

She smiled at him and he swore it was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “Wow, I had no idea you’d be here tonight! It’s amazing to finally meet you!”

Vax was about to offer her a hand in a handshake when she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. She was a tiny bit taller than him in her heeled shoes and her waist was slender. Her frame was much more willowy than Vex’s, but it suited her. He hugged her back, unsure of what else to do, and then Keyleth pulled back, still smiling.

She shuffled her feet and bit her lip, a charming blush darting across her cheekbones. “It’s almost weird to see you in person when all I’ve had before was your videos and our Twitter DMs.”

Vax lifted a hand and brushed back some of her fiery hair with a courage that came from God knows where. “You’re even prettier than I’d expected.”

Keyleth’s flush deepened and she stepped out of his personal space. “Thank you,” she said softly. She glanced around the crowded house where people were shouting and dancing. “Do you, by any chance, want to head somewhere quieter? This is all a bit overwhelming for me,” she admitted shyly.

Vax reached down and took her hand. “As long as we still get to hang out, I’m one hundred percent on board with that idea.”

Keyleth smiled brightly again. “Great!” She tugged on his hand and led him towards the front door.

They cut through the kitchen to get there faster, but as they were just about to leave the kitchen, Vax heard his sister’s familiar laugh. He paused, unintentionally pulling Keyleth to a stop, and looked around for his sister.

Vex was standing next to the window, pressed close to the same attractive young man with white hair from earlier. She was obviously flirting with him, and by the smug look on the young man’s face, it was definitely mutual, but Vax saw his sister sway gently and he knew what that meant. Vex was very excellent at pretending she was far soberer than she was, but the moment that swaying was involved, her night was almost over.

“Vax?” Keyleth questioned and he snapped his head back to her. She was looking between his face and their joined hands curiously.

He sighed. He really, really, wanted to get to know Keyleth and to hang out with her, but he needed to check on Vex. Just because she was handling the popularity better, didn’t mean that her mental state could cope with the fame.

“Kiki, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take a raincheck on this early morning adventure. I think my sister needs assistance getting home.” The nickname slipped out before he could stop it and he felt his ears burn gently.

Keyleth glanced past him and noticed Vex and the white-haired stranger. She smiled at him and laughed. “Of course, don’t worry at all. But,” she paused for a moment and disentangled their fingers. “Give me your phone. I’m giving you my number so we can actually reschedule this thing.”

“Hopefully not at two thirty in the morning,” Vax joked as he passed Keyleth his phone.

She giggled. “Maybe not, but if Scanlan invites you guys around again, you never know what could happen. Now, go help your sister, Vax, I’ll see you around.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek gently and for a brief moment, Vax wanted to abandon Vex and go on whatever adventures that Keyleth could dream up.

But then Keyleth was slipping away from him with one last playful wave and Vax was left in Scanlan’s kitchen with a few strangers, his sister, and his sister’s flirting partner. He sighed and strolled in their direction pointedly.

The white-haired man noticed his approach and inclined his head to meet Vax’s eyes. Vex turned to face him when she noticed that her new friend’s interest had been stolen from her. She smiled sweetly when she saw Vax.

“Brother! Isn’t this a great party?”

Vax shook his head at the obvious drunkenness of his twin. He looked again at the white-haired man. “Vax’ildan, Vex’s brother,” he introduced, holding his hand out.

“Percy,” the man replied, shaking his hand firmly. “You’re the other half of the dynamic Vox Machina then?” To Vax’s surprise, Percy had a British accent, one complementary to the lingering accent his sister held.

Vax nodded, shifting his gaze to his sister as he tried to gauge her level of drunkenness. “Yes, I guess she mentioned that.”

Percy shrugged in response. “Actually, I just recognize you both. I like your music.”

Vax’s eyebrows rose. Vex was notorious for finding easy prey at parties, but this guy actually seemed to be drunk enough to have low inhibitions but was still sharp enough to hold a fast-paced conversation.

“Well, thanks,” Vax replied. “I do need to steal my sister though, I need to get her home before she can’t walk.”

Percy chuckled. “Do you need a hand at all?”

Vax stepped closer to Vex and slid an arm around her waist. “No thanks, this is about normal for us.”

Percy shrugged and stepped away from Vex, giving her a look that Vax recognized carried some attraction. “Well, hopefully our paths can cross again another time.”

Vex laughed. “If you keep smiling at me like that, I don’t think they’re ever going to diverge,” she teased, flashing him a flirtatious smile.

Vax chuckled under his breath as Percy’s ears tinged red and he blinked, caught off guard by Vex’s forwardness. He nudged his sister towards the front door. “It was nice to meet you, Percy,” Vax said before he turned and escorted Vex out of the kitchen.

Vex stumbled along with him, but as they exited the mansion, he noticed she was pouting. “You always have to ruin all my fun, don’t you?”

Vax sighed. “And you always have to throw yourself at the ones who don’t know what to do with you, don’t you?”

Vex laughed loudly. “But he was so pretty and smart, so I really don’t know why you’re complaining about him.”

Vax nudged her towards the road, calling an Uber on his phone. “I’m not complaining about him. He actually seemed like a huge step above your type lately. I’m talking about you and this drinking obsession you’ve developed recently.”

Vex waved him off, stumbling a few steps away. “I’m not even drunk, Vax.”

“Yes, Stubby, you can barely walk, so you are drunk. Very. Just like you’ve been almost every night this week.”

She scowled at him. “Mind your own business.”

The Uber pulled up and Vex marched towards it, purposely not looking back at him. Vax sighed. “I wish I could.”

-

The next week, Vex and Vax had finally decided to meet with the owner of Whitestone Records about potentially signing onto the label. The very thought that the two of them could sign to a major recording label was absolutely mind-blowing and a few months back would have seemed incredibly unlikely.

The twins were in their Uber on the way to the fancy restaurant that Cassandra de Rolo, the owner of the label, had selected as the meeting place. Vex was fidgeting with the hem of her stylish black dress, but she was smiling nonetheless. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he slid it out, his lips twitching into a small smile when he saw the message.

[Keyleth] Good luck with your meeting with Whitestone!! I’ve heard nothing but good things about the label since it moved to LA from London!! You’re gonna kill it!

Since the night of Scanlan’s party, Vax hadn’t found a moment of spare time or confidence to reschedule his night with Keyleth, but they texted every day and he had been sending her snippets of the new song he was working on while she asked him if he had any suggestions for a DIY video she wanted to do.

[Vax] Thanks, Kiki. i’ll let you know how everything ends up.

[Keyleth] of course you will :P

The car pulled up to the restaurant and Vex basically dragged him out of the back as they threw quick ‘thank you’s’ to their driver. Vex raised an eyebrow at the phone he held in his hand as she adjusted the neckline of her dress again.

“Texting your girlfriend?”

Vax rolled his eyes. “She’s no more my girlfriend than Percy is your boyfriend.”

Vex shoved his shoulder. “Rude. I didn’t even manage to get his number or his last name so it’s not like I’ll ever see him again.”

Vax shrugged. “He has white hair, how hard can he be to find?”

“Not hard, apparently,” a familiar voice chimed in. Both twins turned to see another well-dressed pair behind them on the sidewalk. It was the man who had spoken. He had tousled white hair and sharp flint-blue eyes that were strikingly familiar. Vex’s brain put the pieces together faster as she did a double take.

“Percy?”

“Hello, Vex’ahlia, Vax’ildan,” he greeted politely, a smile playing at his lips.

The young woman at his side cleared her throat. “I’m Cassandra de Rolo, the one you’re actually here to meet. You apparently are already well acquainted with my brother, Percival de Rolo.”

Vax’s eyebrows shot up. Everything in his brain clicked as he glanced between the siblings, his brain aligning their similar bone structure and eyes. Cassandra was the owner of the recording label and notably, the younger sister to the actor, Percival de Rolo, who was the very same Percy that Vex’ahlia had flirted with ruthlessly at Scanlan’s party.

Cassandra smirked as she looked between the twins and her brother, all of whom seemed appropriately puzzled. “Let’s go in and talk music, shall we?”

-

Vex left the lunch with Percy’s number saved in her phone and a promise to meet for coffee sometime while Vox Machina left the meeting with a contract to look over about signing on with Whitestone Records.

As they walked along the sidewalk side by side, Vex elbowed Vax. “So if I actually manage to snag Mr. de Rolo despite his famous Hollywood status, does this mean you actually have to call Keyleth, because God knows you want to.”

Vax bumped their shoulders to push her back. “No promises.”

[hello-there]

Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!

[mollymauk-teafleak]

come home with me (chapter three)

Caleb settles into circus life, drawing further and further away from who he used to be.

(Huuuuge thank you to my beta readers, @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian. please leave a comment on Ao3 or donate to my ko-fi if you enjoyed this!)

Caleb had come up with a new game.

He sat on top of Mollymauk’s wagon, legs swinging over the side, Frumpkin on his lap and watched a world he’d always read about but never seen unfold before him. Every time the large, gilded wheels would strike a dip in the road, he’d repeat his new name in his head.

Caleb…Caleb Widogast…I’m Caleb…

He was starting to get used to it, the way a pair of new boots would eventually start to soften and yield and accept him. The syllables felt kinder in his mouth, he liked the swing and slide of the soft plosive. Sitting there atop his new home, feeling a rare burst of autumn sunshine on his skin, his cat purring loudly at not having to be hidden away, Caleb could almost forget he’d ever had another name.

True to his word, Mollymauk had roused his sleepy and rather hungover crew in the early, clinging, dark hours of the morning, walking through the little village of caravans, banging his baton against a large bucket and hollering for them to get their arses up and moving. Caleb had stayed firmly in the wagon with the blanket pulled up over his head, wondering if it would have been possible to make a worse impression on his new colleagues.

But as soon as they were on their feet and had their fill of cursing Molly out, the circus was so neatly and quickly folded away it had to be magically assisted, all the floating lanterns recalled with a single whistle, the huge hall of purple silk brought down and shrunk until it was a hundredth of its initial size, all the trinkets and trappings swept safely away to sleep until their next stop. Still with his very unpopular bucket and baton, standing on top of the tallest wagon- made to house and transport the large tent, Caleb learnt- Molly had announced they were heading south, asking his troupe how they fancied a warmer clime for their next show, to general agreeable cheers.

And so they’d set off, only dozing crownsguard in the midst of their watches and a few farmers and fishermen heading out to field and lake to see them go. Caleb’s chest had been tight, almost unbearably so, until the landscape outside became unfamiliar. He’d lived in Rexxantrum and never left since he was three years old, he knew every single cobblestone of its streets. If he couldn’t recognise what was past the gauzy silk of Molly’s curtains, he was safe.

Eventually, once the day had well and truly broken, Mollymauk had returned after making a round of the whole troupe, helping with odds and ends, trading jokes back and forth, hailing travellers on the road, telling them to look out for the Fletching and Moondrop Travelling Carnival of Curiosities in his booming stage voice. He was a very hands on leader, Caleb was realising, always in the thick of things. He tried to imagine him running things the way Father did, from behind a desk, dealing only with a carefully managed stream of constituents in and out of his office. Something about that image was oddly funny, just for how ridiculous it was.

Caleb ran his hand down Frumpkin’s back, from between his flat little ears right to the tip of his tail. Thinking of Father still sparked old instincts, nerves that hadn’t quite gone dormant yet. He wondered how far they would have to travel, how many new types of flower he’d have to spy along the roadside, how many strange tongues he’d have to hear in passing before he’d feel safe.

He didn’t think he’d like the answer to that.

The wheel hit another rut in the road and he sank back into his game, letting the repetition of it soothe him.

Caleb Widogast…I’m Caleb…I’m-

“Caleb!”

He opened his eyes and looked down. Molly was waving to him from the ground, smiling up at him. His travelling clothes were about as plain as the tiefling got, tight black leggings and an overtunic of forest green, still with the fantastical embroidery Caleb suspected was Molly’s own doing, high boots made for function rather than fashion.

“The Whitestone lot are leaving, come say hi! And then goodbye in very quick succession!”

Though he climbed down from the roof, using the large wheel as a step, and followed Molly into the thick of the rolling encampment, Caleb was nervous. His run ins with the rest of the troupe had been very few and far between, as he hoped to limit the number of them who realised they were being labelled as aiding and abetting a kidnapping just by being in his presence.

Molly was standing a little ways away with the half elf siblings and the tall, white haired gentleman, all of them in the midst of a conversation that Caleb caught the end of as he approached, Frumpkin wound around him like a scarf.

“You’re so good to keep indulging us like this, darling,” the female elf was saying as she kissed both of Molly’s cheeks, “We had a wonderful time.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Molly waved her thanks away, “The show’s always that much brighter for having you in it,” he shot a grin at the white haired man, “All of you.”

The man stroked a close cropped beard, chuckling ruefully, “I keep telling my wife, I only come along to help with mechanical repairs and she keeps press ganging me into her performance…”

“Oh, you love being part of it, Perce,” she swiped a loving hand over his hair, “And no one can say you’re not well rewarded.” The way her hooded eyes grew warm and teasing made the nature of such rewards very clear.

“Please don’t,” her brother groaned, “I had to hear enough of that last night. I keep begging for my wagon not to be next to yours but every damn time…”

The group dissolved into good natured laughter which gave Molly the chance to draw back and pull Caleb into the conversation, “Sweetling, may I introduce the not so venerable and supposedly sophisticated Baron and Baroness of Whitestone, Vex'ahlia and Percival. And her brother, Vax’ildan, a mere mortal like the rest of us.”

Caleb’s heart dropped to his shoes, “Wait…what? I…I thought…”

Vax’ildan chuckled, “A shock I know. My sister and lover boy over here keep skipping out on their baronly duties to come slum it with us humble performers. Because they know we have more fun, even if they do get to live in a ginormous, fancy castle.”

“Says the man whose about to get married and live rent free in our ginormous castle,” Vex’ahlia shot back, flicking his ear.

“My future husband is an honourable working man,” he returned huffily, “No one ever said I had to be.”

Molly gave Caleb a look of fond exasperation, one that made him feel included and part of something in a way he’d never felt before. It was a welcome respite from the hammering of his heart. The only nobles Caleb had ever met- back before he changed his name- were cold, sneering people much like Father who all looked at him like he was a particularly amusing pet Father kept trotting out to entertain them all whenever they’d visit Rexxantrum, a charity case and nothing more. Though it was clear that the de Rolo’s were nothing like this, he still would have appreciated a heads up that he was about to be face to face with some of the most important people outside of the empire.

“Well, we’d best get going, Gilmore’s transportation spell will only hold for so long,” Percy said firmly, in the practised tones of someone who’d had a lot of experience breaking up tussles between the two siblings.

“Of course, of course,” Vex’ahlia nodded, turning back to Molly and giving him another set of kisses, “Until next time, darling. Happy travels.”

“Don’t let it be too long,” Molly nodded, smiling.

Caleb watched them go, still a little dizzy from the shock.

“Vax’s fiancé was our previous arcanist,” Molly explained softly as their companions walked off, “Shaun Gilmore, a real good guy. They’re settling down in Whitestone, opening up a store. Means I’m out two performers which is rotten luck but, hey, it means I get to work with you.” He smiled at that, squeezing Caleb’s hand fondly , perhaps recognising the worn look on his lover’s face.

“They’re…not like other nobles I’ve met,” Caleb took a deep breath, “It’s strange…”

Molly laughed, teeth flashing, “Oh sweetling, we’re all strange here. Didn’t you know?”

Caleb was surprised by how quickly the carnival could move. It seemed at first like a lumbering beast, made up of far too many parts, parts that were old and splintering and listing on their wheels. The great cartloads of supplies to keep them all fed, pulled by motheaten donkeys that seemed to dislike Caleb upon first glance so he steered well away from, the wagons that held all the equipment for the show itself, ready to unfurl at a moment’s notice like a butterfly straining at the walls of its cocoon. And of course the caravans, all done up in chipping paint, such seemingly small and unwieldy containers for people’s entire lives, looking like squat insects on frighteningly delicate legs. Most of these ran on spells, the wood enchanted to roll along of its own accord until halted by a knocking on its door frame though some preferred the relative reliability of a horse. Fortunately for Caleb and his newly developed equinophobia, Molly preferred the latter.

But for all its patchwork nature, the way it ran on mismatched spell work and machinery, no part of it still with all its original components, the carnival and its occupants knew their business. Each part was like a limb or a digit of a whole organism, all somehow knowing how to move and work together, probably from simple experience. If that was the case then Mollymauk’s purple caravan, always right at the front, was the brain.

When he saw a tree in their path, he sent orders down the line and everyone obeyed. When he saw dusk falling and a suitable field up ahead, he called a halt for the night and everyone obeyed. When he saw a group of merchants or traders or farm folk travelling in the opposite direction, he sent down the familiar cry of ‘game faces on’ and everyone obeyed, usually resulting in their coffers being a few coins richer once the other party had continued on their way.

Though he’d spoken of getting Caleb his own wagon once they’d passed through a large enough village, that had happened a good few times and nothing had been said of it, both men realising silently that they liked their current arrangement a little too much to break it. So Caleb got to lounge on Mollymauk’s comfortable bed, his back against the wall, light coming in through the windows as he pretended to read but instead listened to Mollymauk command his circus with a smile and a joke. He got to watch their lumbering beast break from forest into moorland, got to watch the air grow warmer and the flowers grow brighter, he got to feel part of it all.

Routine had been how he’d survived under Ikithon and the loss of it had made some still scared, still anxious part of his mind fret. But he’d soon found another one, one that made him much happier than anyone ever had.

Caleb would wake in Molly’s arms, not to a shrill alarm but whenever his body felt like it, catching up on years’ worth of hard days on four hours of sleep, five on a Sunday. He’d stay wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, lying on his front as Frumpkin curled up between his shoulder blades, watching and listening as Mollymauk washed and dressed, telling him stories and chatting about his plans for the day. The tiefling never seemed to run out of words and he wasn’t shy about sharing his thoughts. Caleb loved that about him, he loved being confided in. It didn’t matter if it was the smallest, silliest thing, he wanted to know what Molly thought about their route, about the Empire, about the idea of eggs for breakfast.

But then Molly would leave to do a quick round of the carnival, talking with those who’d drawn the night watch, checking everything was in working order, ready for the off. In the silence, Caleb would wash and dress. Of course he’d not had the time to bring many amenities with him on his sudden flight from the city but several small merchants chance met on the road or operating out of their own front rooms in small farming villages had been very pleased by his custom as they’d travelled along. He had himself a fine few sets of travelling clothes now, soft trousers fit for working in, loose shirts and simple jackets for colder weather. Nothing like the restricting uniform he’d been used to wearing. In this, Caleb could run, he could kneel, he could stretch and move.

Once ready, he’d start preparing breakfast. He felt it was the least he could do, seeing as Mollymauk had given him so much, and the arm length lists of chores he’d always been required to do back in Rexxantrum had given him the necessary skills. After Mollymauk returned, usually splattered in mud from helping shove a caravan out of a too deep rut in the road or with his hair full of twigs after chasing down an escaped tarpaulin snatched by the wind, they’d sit together on the bed and eat. Molly would be effusive with his praise, kissing Caleb’s forehead and joking that he knew there was a reason this one night stand had turned into thirty nights, that he’d never eaten half so well.

The rest of the day would be full of travelling. Caleb liked this time best of all, sitting on top of the caravan or inside, watching from the window, if one of the sudden rain storms that apparently came on with no warning in this part of the country was moving in. Molly had quickly realised that the part of Caleb’s brain that had been completely devoted to study and combing through old books on magic, many of them in entirely different languages with nearly unreadable, ancient pages was very well suited to deciphering maps and navigating a safe route, as they passed out of the Empire and the roads grew less clear and less maintained. So he’d sit at the small table with a cup of steaming tea, Frumpkin pawing at his compass and sextant and any stray curling edge of a page, and see them safely to wherever Molly decided to go next.

Slowly, surely, they eased themselves free of the grip of the Empire, not stopping for far longer than they ever had before, wanting to avoid any word of them getting back to Rexxantrum. If the rest of the circus wondered why they were passing up so many opportunities to put on their show, so many holdfasts and towns and villages that were usually on their schedule, they didn’t say anything. When Caleb sat there and watched the faint pencil line that marked their path grow longer and longer, stretching off into other maps, other futures, it would get easier to breathe.

The evenings would be given over to finding a good spot to spend the night, a field or a sheltered grove if it was raining. Then the cook fires would spring to life throughout the camp like bright flowers, the groups that gathered around them shifting from night to night depending on what was on offer, who had booze, who had brought their instrument out with them and had it laid temptingly across their lap. Caleb found himself following Molly like a lost puppy on these nights, though he always insisted he was free to go wherever he wanted. It was just easier to sit close to him whatever fire they decided to eat at that night, letting him lead conversations, only mumbling short answers to the questions he was asked directly, alongside thank you’s for the food pressed upon him.

Not that the rest of the carnival weren’t good people, they obviously were and the conversation was always bright and sparkling, full of life as only people who’d dedicated their lives to entertaining others could be. Caleb was just content to stay on the fringes of it all, audience rather than participant, at least until he’d fully decided quite who he was going to be now.

But then the fires would turn to embers, the pots would be taken in and cleaned by whoever hadn’t helped cook the meal, the musicians would grow tired and play their last few requests. And Molly’s eyes would find Caleb’s and his hand would creep across the ground for their fingers to entwine. A part of Caleb would get its own little rapid heartbeat and instincts he was only just developing would prickle. Molly would grin at that and pull him to his feet, leading him back to the caravan, the good natured laughter of their friends fading behind them.

Moly wouldn’t bother to light the lanterns in his caravan. They wouldn’t bother to put their clothes away as they were abandoned on the floor. The bed would always be there to catch them when they inevitably tumbled back, too lost in their kissing to see where they placed their feet.

And every night would pass by much the same as the others did, with moans and gasps and tongues scraping. Caleb could never see himself tiring of it.

Until one morning when instead of a load of maps and his usual compass, there was a pile of unfamiliar papers waiting to greet him on the kitchen table.

“What’s this?” he wondered aloud, taking the edge of the stack and thumbing through it, listening to the thump and crack of it.

“This is your job for the foreseeable future.”

Caleb hadn’t even realised Molly was sitting behind him on the bed and the shock nearly sent the cup of Caduceus’ finest green cherry blend crashing to the floor.

“Sorry, sorry!” the tiefling laughed, jumping up and steadying his shoulders.

“You can’t keep doing that to me,” Caleb huffed, setting the mug down, “Wear a bell or something…”

“Oh sweetling, if you want to see me in a collar, all you have to do is ask,” Molly chucked, stretching his legs out to nudge Caleb’s teasingly.

The blush that erupted on his freckled face was more of a glow than a full conflagration, it was hard to maintain any prudishness after spending nearly a month as Molly’s lover. And he didn’t doubt the truth of his words; the purple velvet lined oak chest under the bed that held a frankly incredible array of sex toys undoubtedly held a few collars. That box had led to a number of very interesting nights for the two of them.

“What do you mean this is my job?” Caleb said quickly before his thoughts could stray any further and force him to write the rest of the afternoon off completely for the both of them.

Molly stood and stretched like a lounging cat, “This is our show script. It’s still got all of Gilmore’s notes in it where he used to put his little touches but you’re more than welcome to put your own spin on it.”

“Oh…” something in Caleb’s chest grew taut.

“So I thought we could go through it together and see where you come in so you can get all your cues down,” the tiefling continued, not noticing the tension in Caleb’s shoulders, coming over and patting the sheaf of papers, “Outside of course. I tell you, once I was having a pretty solid night in here with this warlock fellow from up Hupperdook way, cute guy, nice ass and he was showing me his little tricks and he set my damn curtains on fire. Last time I mix magic and confined spaces, you can still see the scorch marks…”

Caleb tried to laugh the way he usually did at Molly’s stories but there was a hard to ignore prickling in his fingertips, like the blood wasn’t getting to them.

“Okay, so, outside?” the words burst from him with a false brightness as he seized the papers and made for the door, “Let’s do it.”

Molly paused, looking surprised but he smiled and nodded, following him towards the door.

Just do it. Just get through it.

They found themselves a little sheltered space in a nearby grove of trees. Molly settled himself on a rock, folding his legs underneath him, the sun coming in behind him and dappling him in soft pools of golden light. He looked almost fae and, despite the uncomfortably hot anxiety bubbling inside him, Caleb couldn’t help pausing to cup his face and kiss him then and there.

Molly giggled brightly against his lips, returning the kiss for a few long seconds before pulling back, “Okay, big guy, we’re on the clock. Work for an hour or so then I’ll see if we can find the little brook nearby and go skinny dipping, huh?”

The thought was enough for Caleb to forget that anything had even been wrong. He let Molly have the script and stood a little ways away in the middle of the grove, trying to relax, searching for the space inside him that made his magic possible. The calmness, the levelness, the sensation that he had a place in the universe.

“Okay,” Molly’s voice found his ears, “So the curtain lift, that all works on a permanent enchantment in the cloth itself so no problems there…so your first cue is when I say ‘that’s exactly what we do’, that’s when I need the dancing lights…”

Calen nodded. Dancing lights. An almost painfully simple evocation cantrip. He could do that in his sleep.

But the grass under his bare feet kept shifting into concrete. The trees around him turned to high, cavernous stone walls in the corner of his eye. The warm air, redolent with pine and bark, became cold and dead in his throat.

Are you just going to stand there, boy?

He tried to say the incantation but they caught in his throat.

“Caleb?” Molly sounded confused and his nerves jangled in response. He couldn’t mess this up, he couldn’t…

“I’m sorry!” he choked out, “I…I can do it, I just…it’s been a while…”

Caleb held his palms out, searching for a focus. But now the words themselves had fled, after they’d been fixed in his mind just a second before. He knew it, he had to know it, this was the most basic stuff…

Useless. Clumsy. Sloppy.

“Caleb, hold on…”

“No!” he cried, terror hitting him over the back of the head as he heard his own voice crack, “I can do it, I swear!”

You are nothing, boy.

You are disobedient. Disloyal. Ungrateful. A waste of magical potential.

A true wizard would not flinch from his punishment. Stand there and take it like a man. Do that much at least or I’ll turn you out onto the streets. Where I should have left you.

What erupted from his mouth and his palms half a heartbeat later was not dancing lights. Fire filled the space between him and Mollymauk, a sudden, sharp roar of not anger, not power but fear, lashing out at the imagined threat, at the memory of hundreds of strikes, punches, kicks, nights without food or water.

Fortunately, the blaze spouted upwards, up above the treeline. Left hollow by the sudden rush of energy, Caleb pitched forward, knees and palms scraping in the dirt as he began to cry, apologies gasping out between heaving sobs.

He didn’t know who he was apologising to at first. Ikithon or Mollymauk. Himself?

Either way he coughed and spat into the dirt, trying to get the horrible taste out of his mouth, rusty and burnt, the taste of misfired magic. He couldn’t do a simple spell. He’d come so close to hurting Mollymauk, seriously hurting him.

A new life had been so close within his reach that his fingertips had brushed it, he’d started to get his mouth around the word happiness. And he’d ruined it. In a single gout of flame and the inability to perform even the simplest, most basic spell, he’d ruined everything.

“Caleb? Are you okay to be touched right now?”

Caleb’s head snapped up. Mollymauk was bent over him, now entirely framed in the sunlight, so much so that there was barely anything to him but a silhouette.

He hadn’t run.

Swallowing hard, he nodded and two strong hands came to rest on his own, helping him to his feet.

“Come on now, there we are…there we go…”

The forest clearing came into focus now he was upright though he also became aware of the painful scrapes on his palms and the rawness of his throat, “I…I don’t understand…”

“Well, I’m no expert…” Molly brushed some ash from Caleb’s shirt, “And I really do think you should see an expert, if we ever come across one? But I think you’ve got some trauma surrounding magic from that Ikithon asshole and-“

“No, I…I know that,” Caleb shook his head, managing to find some odd scrap of humour in amongst all this, “I nearly burnt down half a fucking forest, of course I have trauma.”

And then, simple as that, the two of them were laughing. Laughing so hard they couldn’t be sure who was supporting who as they barely kept from tumbling down into the dirt. It was an odd kind of laughter, slightly manic, slightly unhinged. But it burnt away that taste in Caleb’s mouth and the shaking in his hands and knees and left him empty.

Caleb felt a little giddy with the shock of survival. He was still standing.

“What I meant…what I meant was,” he gasped, still catching his breath, “I don’t understand how you’re still here. How…how you’re not scared…”

He didn’t want to jinx it, make Mollymauk suddenly jolt to his senses and realise he was stood perilously close to a man who’d nearly roasted him alive, but it needed to be said.

“I am a little scared but it’s more scared for you than of you,” Molly said after a little thought, still fussing idly with the clinging foliage on his shirt, “I don’t like knowing you’ve got all these bad thoughts inside you all the time. I don’t like that I can’t help.”

“You do help,” Caleb murmured softly, “You…you actually try. You have no idea how much that means to me, Molly. To see someone actually try.”

Molly seemed to process that for a few moments more before smiling gently, a little sadly, and pressing a kiss to Caleb’s forehead.

“Come on, we’re done with work. Just…hold the idea of doing magic in the back of your mind, doing it for yourself, not for Ikithon, not even really for me. For yourself. And hopefully it’ll just settle there and we’ll find our way to it. Sound good?”

Caleb’s heart thumped hard in his chest, “And if I never get there?”

“Well…then I’ll stick you on the cotton candy cart,” Mollymauk winked, elbowing him gently, “Now let’s go find that brook.”

Caleb toyed with that idea as he shed his clothes by the edge of the brook that was really more of a hot spring, gently steaming in the afternoon light. The idea of magic for himself. Magic for the fun of it. Enjoying the talents he’d been given, no matter where they’d come from. Disengaging it somehow from everything that had come before.

Then Mollymauk was in his arms, pulling him into the water, pressing his blissfully naked body against his own and he didn’t think much of anything else for a while.

But then, much later, he was lying in the darkness, Molly using his chest as a pillow, snoring soundly and leaving his lover counting the divine aches in his body, staring up at the stars that had been enchanted to glow in the dark, cut out and stuck on the caravan ceiling in a perfect recreation of the constellations.

It occurred to him then that the equations he’d learned, the diagrams and runes he’d so carefully studied, they didn’t belong to anyone. They just were, no matter whose books he’d originally read them in, no matter who’d inked them onto the paper. Truths that were simply true, no matter what they were used for.

They didn’t belong to Ikithon. So he couldn’t take them away from away from Caleb, police when he could and couldn’t use them.

They didn’t belong to anyone. So they could belong to everyone.

Caleb reached up, doing his best not to jostle Mollymauk. He put his palm out towards the softly glowing paper stars and sank into the state of mind, felt energy pulse inside him and spread out through his veins, branching right down into his capillaries.

The stars began to fade as a new source of light took root in his palm, nothing too bright, just a single orb of the softest, gentlest milky white light. It budded, swelled and broke free, hanging over the bed, the moon to the stars behind it.

And Caleb smiled.

[usagirotten]

The Legend of Vox Machina: Season 2 Trailer

The Prime Video series dropped an action-packed official trailer for Season 2, which begins rolling out on the streamer on Jan. 20. Season 2 will follow the Chroma Conclave campaign from Critical Role’s popular Dungeons and Dragons web series. The heroes of Vox Machina will have to face a powerful group of dragons called the Chroma Conclave before they destroy the world of Exandria. And these aren’t your typical fire-breathing dragons — they spew ice and acid and have nearly impenetrable armor. To defeat these beasts, the Vox Machina heroes must find rare weapons powerful enough to kill gods. Or, as Grog the goliath suggests, they could just “fuck shit up.” It stars Critical Role founders and cast members Laura Bailey as Vex’ahlia “Vex” Vessar, Ashley Johnson as Pike Trickfoot, Taliesin Jaffe as Percival “Percy” Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, Liam O’Brien as Vax’ildan “Vax” Vessar, Marisha Ray as Keyleth of the Air Ashari, Sam Riegel as Scanlan Shorthalt, Travis Willingham as Grog Strongjaw, and Matthew Mercer as Lord Sylas Briarwood.      Read the full article

[theoreticalli]

On Dreaming

Day 1 of Critical Role Relationships Week: Cassandra & Vax'ildan (Read on AO3)

Set after Campaign 1, so spoilers for much of the final arc (and also for the Briarwood arc, obviously). I spent all my prep time writing this, so it's very long and unedited (except by tumblr user @horationelson so thank her for that) and I'll be spending the rest of the week trying to catch up on all the other fics I have planned. Pray to the Raven Queen so she won't take me away.

Cassandra didn’t get to see Vax’ildan often. In her memories, it only took a few months after Vex’ahlia and Percival returned to Whitestone before his face started blending with his sister’s, her constant presence superseding Cass’s initial interest in the rogue. Eventually all she could recall of him was his more mischievous smile, the beads strung into his hair, and the daggers he wore. She felt a sting of guilt on days when she could see Vex was struggling— especially when the Lady gave in to constant questioning about her birthday and let them throw her a small party every year. Cass knew what it was to have that constant knowledge that someone was missing from her life. She’d been living with it for almost a decade. She only wished she could give her something back, to make those days a little bit easier.

It was on that birthday, a few years later, when the first raven appeared. They had nearly finished with dinner and the kitchen was setting the final details on the cake when Cass saw Vex stiffen out of the corner of her eye, the half-elf’s gaze latched on something past the window.

Cass caught Percival’s eye and his brow furrowed. “Dear, are you alright?”

Vex was already standing, pushing her chair back without taking her eyes off the window. “Percy. Percy, look.”

Percival craned his neck to follow her line of sight and Cass could hear his breath catch. Suddenly they were both speaking in low murmurs. “Do you think it’s—”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t sure he could come back.”

“Could be a coincidence?”

“But it’s our birthday, Percy. I don’t….”

Vex trailed off as she walked towards the window, leaning on the sill with both hands. After a moment, she slowly raised one finger to tap, shakily, on the glass.

Cass heard a loud caw! from the lawn and both Percy and Vex burst into relieved laughter. Vex finally looked away, smiling down at the two rings on her splayed left hand. Percy came up behind her, sliding an arm around her waist while waving cheerily at the big black bird in the tree, and Cass felt a low, dull thud in her stomach. Why couldn’t anyone she loved come back for a brief little visit?

[read more]

That night, she laid on her side in bed, staring out into the dark chamber. She could barely make out the tapestry of her family tree on the opposite wall, a bit torn from intentional mishandling. She’d become wearily accustomed to the hours of lying awake in dread that led into the nightmares every night, but that certainly didn’t make it any more enjoyable. Breathing slowly, she rolled onto her back and thought heavily, It simply isn’t fair. Not that I begrudge her that happiness, especially not on her birthday. But it’s still not fair. All I wanted was to say goodbye. Tell them I loved them. Since we never did that much in life, the fools we were.

She fell asleep eventually, arms crossed over her chest. Almost immediately her eyes opened on a dark chamber, black stone walls rising to a stained-glass ceiling with almost no light spilling through it. In the center of the floor was a flat plane of deep red, completely still— she could only tell that it was a liquid because someone was sitting on the edge, legs dangling motionless in the pool, completely clad in black. Uneasiness settling in her chest, Cass stepped out of the doorway— glancing behind herself quickly to find that it led into nothing but darkness, the floor vanishing.

The figure didn’t move, but a voice rose like it was coming from every part of the room at once. “Lady Cassandra de Rolo. Fantastic seeing you again. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it sooner.”

Finally, the head turned to face her and she saw none other than Vax’ildan, his hair drawn back loosely into a ponytail, armor adorned with iridescent black feathers covering him. For a moment she almost thought him a strange version of Vex, with a harder jaw and that smile, beads now dimly visible in his hair. Cass rested her fingertips on the cool, damp stone, watching him.

“I trust you’ve been keeping my sister and Freddy in line?”

“Of course,” Cass replied, and her voice came out smoother than she might have expected. “They seem to be doing fine. Worse without you, I suppose.”

His slight smile faltered and suddenly he looked very different from Vex— much older, his brow creased more heavily despite the strange glow that seemed to light his skin from underneath. She suddenly felt a feeling of vertigo, like outside the walls of the chamber was a vastness that would lose her instantly. Had he been here for all these years? Did time pass the same here?

He looked down at his hands, then pushed himself to his feet. The disturbance sent barely two ripples across the pool, and when Cass pulled her eyes away he was already standing beside her.

“I’ve only just been able to reach out to… anyone. I figured our birthday was as good a time as any.”

“They seemed to appreciate it,” Cass said softly.

“That’s not why I’m talking to you, though,” Vax said, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms. “Those two aren’t the only ones who’ve been having a difficult time, are they? How have you been, Cassandra?”

Cass blinked. “Fine.”

“I’m hurt.” Vax laid a hand against his chest, faking a pout. “I brought you all the way here. The least you can do is tell me your troubles.”

“They haven’t exactly changed much,” Cass said bitterly. “By all accounts, everything in Whitestone is doing much better. Including me, I guess.”

“You were expecting a nightmare. I can feel it.” He tapped his sternum and crossed his arms again.

“Yes? I have nightmares every night. I’m sure Percy does too, and Vex, and whoever else. You probably do— did.”

“I don’t sleep much anymore.” His chin tipped down so he could look at her closer. “You never really got the closure we got, did you? I’m sorry about that.”

“Well, sometimes there’s not much one can do,” Cass said. “Were you this retrospective— before? I seem to recall your sister being the more sympathetic one.”

“She was. I figure if you spend all your time escorting people out from their lives and you don’t have one to go back to yourself, you spend a lot of time thinking about their lives and a lot of time thinking about your own.”

Sighing, Cass mirrored his posture against the wall, hugging herself. “That’s how I felt the first few months after Whitestone was restored. I spent all day helping other people sort out whatever the Briarwoods had done to them, and then at night I’d feel like nothing was changing for me. At least I had a lot of time to spend trying to sort out my memories.”

Vax nodded, looking down at the mosaic floor. After a long moment, he said, “I have… a proposition for you.”

Cass looked up at him, eyebrows raised. He’d hardly spoken to her before, let alone asked after her feelings, let alone offered her something. “Yes?”

“I cannot resolve any of your pain. I cannot bring anyone back for you, nor for Percival. However. If there are any words you feel were left… unsaid, any messages you’d wish to pass on, I can find the recipients. And I may be able to bring a response.” Standing up straight, he settled his hands on her shoulders and looked her firmly in the eyes. “I know that something that haunted both Vex and I for years was never being able to say goodbye to our mother. I would imagine that pain is similar for you.”

Cass held his gaze for a second, then quickly wiped her eyes. Strangely, even the thought of being able to say goodbye to her mother and father and all her siblings, however indirectly, made something release in her chest that she didn’t even know she’d been holding so tightly. Tipping her head back against the wall, she took a few steadying breaths, trying to compose her thoughts. What could she say? My dear brothers and sisters, I am sorry I never really got to know you on account of my being quite young when you were murdered. Everything is going well here, I no longer daily wish I was dead with you. No, that wouldn’t do.

She looked back down at Vax. “Thank you… very much.” Her voice cracked and she cleared it carefully. “If you could find my siblings and tell them that… that I love them very much, and Whitestone feels very empty without them. Tell them that Percival and I are doing our best to replicate all the bickering that went on. Oh, and—” She started laughing, softly. “Tell them that Whitney was always my favorite, because she used to sneak me biscuits and other things from the kitchens when I was upset.”

He grinned briefly, nodding. “Can do.”

“And tell my parents…” She bit her lip. “Tell them that Percival and I are doing the best we can in a position we never expected to find ourselves in, let alone so soon. We’ll keep working in their legacy. And I miss them so, so much.”

Her voice went up slowly until the last word, which caught and wavered between them. Cass put her hand against the dark stone, the tears that had been pricking her eyes spilling down her cheeks. Within a moment she’d let out a loud sob and clasped her hand over her mouth, quickly.

She didn’t see Vax move, but suddenly his arms were around her, one hand rubbing her back. “Shhhhh. You can cry here,” he murmured. “You haven’t ever had the chance to mourn them, really. And there are so many burdens on you. Just cry. Just let it out. I know that they are so proud of you.”

“I just feel so selfish,” Cass gasped. “Everyone lost people.”

“And so did you. It still hurts, and it always will, but it will be so much worse if you mix guilt into it. Be a little selfish. You have as much time as you need.”

Cass had no idea how long she stood in Vax’s arms, sobbing. Crying for a childhood she’d lost. Crying for siblings she’d never know, parents who’d never hold her again. Crying for a home that had been spoiled for her, all her happiness there ruined with years of pain. Crying for her brother, who left her and ran and ran and ran. Crying for Vex, who was in Whitestone with the man she loved and still missing so much. Crying for herself, for everything she still had to do, every nightmare she’d still have to suffer, every day that would still feel awful and long, every moment she’d spend hating herself for things she never could control. Crying for Vax, taken away from everyone he loved to serve a distant god. Crying. Crying. Crying.

Abruptly, Cass woke up in her bed, the sheets laid out neatly around her like she hadn’t moved once. Even her nightmares tended to lose detail quickly, but every word of her conversation with Vax, every aspect of the room, came back to her with no effort. Exhaling slowly, she sat up, moving the sheets aside with unusual ease. Getting up was a lot less daunting when her sheets weren’t soaked with sweat and tangled around her legs.

Of course, she had to put the encounter off as a particularly vivid and benevolent dream brought on by the raven’s visit the day before. Nevertheless, something both relieving and painful had settled deep in her gut, tugging at her. She wouldn’t let herself admit that she was waiting for responses, but she dreamed of their faces more often, and sometimes Vax showed up in the skies of her nightmares, the brush of dark-feathered wings behind him as he watched her sadly.

It was a few weeks. She still had terrible dreams almost every night, and the disappointment when she’d wake up thrashing was almost more crushing than the fear itself. Eventually Vex asked after her, catching her furrowed brow and conversing that was even brusquer than usual.

“Darling, you seem concerned. It’s not the Marquesan diplomat, is it? I can really take that meeting alone if you need me to.”

Cass sighed, trying in vain to tuck a few loose strands of hair into her updo. “No— well, not entirely. It would make my life easier if you did. But there’s something else, and I probably should have told you a while ago.”

Vex reached out to help her, then smoothed her sleeves down until she was holding both her hands. “What is it?”

“I had a dream about Vax. He told me he would get in contact with my family for me, and I gave him some messages. I know it was just a dream, but it felt so vivid, and I just… I desperately want him to bring me the responses. I feel so silly, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m indulging myself or because of what I said. It’s just making me more tired than usual, that’s all.”

Vex looked down at their clasped hands. “You think he actually visited you? In your dream?”

“Do you dream of him?” Cass asked gently.

The corners of Vex’s mouth twitched up into a very sad smile. “All the time, darling. But his face started getting mixed up and I… I couldn’t bear it. I got Keyleth to help me mix up something for dreamless sleep.” Suddenly, her face twisted into a look of horror. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry. I should have offered it to you the day I thought of it. I know you need it much more than I do.”

It did sting a little, to know the solution was that simple, but Cass also had a feeling that her nightmares wouldn’t be stifled that easily. “It’s alright, Vex, I know you would have. Do you think he ever… actually visited you?”

“I’d considered it at first, but I couldn’t hold on to it and stay present day to day. I suppose I understand where you’re coming from there. And many of the dreams were… less than pleasant, so I’d prefer to think he had no involvement in them— the real him, anyways.”

Cass used their hands to pull her into a hug, something she was still working on gifting freely. “I know how that feels, of course. Well… I don’t know, maybe you should try one night and see if you get anything. Just so you know, one way or the other.”

Vex looked at her fondly, her smile growing to something more genuine. “I’m a bit worried that I’ll keep making excuses and never get a good night’s sleep again, but thank you for telling me, darling. It’s some comfort to know he might be looking out for you, too.”

That night, Cass spent a little extra time getting ready for bed. She didn’t completely know why, but she used a bit of the fragrant soap she saved for occasions and spent several minutes brushing her hair out and braiding it out of the way. Feeling a little ridiculous, she caught her own eye in the mirror and said firmly, “If no one’s there, no one’s there. That is it.”

She laid awake for a while, though she was surprisingly calm— not even that excited. Eventually she drifted off and opened her eyes in the dark temple, exactly as she’d imagined it. Vax was standing on the side of the pool, looking at her with a bit of that playful grin. “Thank you for telling my sister about the dream. I’ve been trying to get to her for ages, but except for certain days it’s hard to take control of the dream. I'll be delighted to see her.”

“How does this work?” Cass asked. “All this… showing up in my dreams. Is it always really you, even in the nightmares?”

His brow furrowed and he looked down at the pool, studying it like he could see something other than his reflection. “I don’t really know. I have a lot of duties, but the way time works… doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes I just get the sense that one of you, someone I knew before, is closer to me, and it’s usually in sleep. If someone is unconscious I can get that much closer, but that hasn’t happened since most of you stopped adventuring. But if you aren’t completely open to it… sometimes all I can do is watch. I hate it, but it means I can see my sister, and Keyleth, and all the rest of you. It’s not as good as this, though.”

So it was real, Cass realized. And she was dreaming. Usually she couldn’t tell that until she’d woken up. She moved to stand across from him, a few feet back from the edge of the pool. “I hope you can reach out to Vex soon.”

His smile changed into something more wistful, almost childlike and painfully hopeful. “I’m hoping tonight. I can feel her, she’s much closer than usual. But I have your responses, so I figured I owed you the first visit.”

“Took you long enough,” Cass said, carefully managing her tone to make sure it didn’t sound too accusative.

He actually looked shocked. “Oh. How long has it been?”

Brow furrowing, she thought back. “I don’t know. About a month?”

“I am so very sorry. I had no idea, I went to speak to them immediately. I really thought it had only been a few nights at most. I told you, time is weird here. Sometimes I feel like I’m getting things out of order. It’s… it’s a bit concerning, if I think about it too hard.” Vax’s hand went to his belt, like he was looking for something familiar. “I’m sorry, Cassie.”

“It’s alright,” she said gently. “I’m just glad to get anything.”

He cleared his throat and reached into a pocket of his cloak to pull out a scrap of parchment. “To make sure I didn’t mix anything up. You’ve got a lot of family, milady.”

She smiled mildly, but her heart was hammering in her chest. This was real. She was hearing from her family. They had listened, and even written back.

“Vesper says she always knew Whitney was a bit of a troublemaker, though she wasn’t expecting you to have joined in. Oliver and Ludwig both said she should have known, since you were the youngest and absolutely spoiled. Julius says he’s sorry that you’ve had to take on a responsibility that should have been passed down to him and then through everyone else before it reached you. They all say they miss you, and they hope you’re doing okay. Vesper added that she hopes you’ll reach out again in a few years to tell them if there’s any beaus you’ve brought in to take up space, and maybe a few new little ones to make things properly noisy. Whitney says to give you a hug from her, and to tell you to hug everyone you see. She always thought that was a ridiculous taboo anyways.” Vax glanced up at her to find her with a hand covering her wide smile and tears streaming down her face. “I agree with her. She’s a lot of fun.”

Cass could only nod.

He flipped the paper over. “As for your parents. Your mother said she misses you very much and she loves you forever and ever, and that she is very proud of how strong you’ve been. She’s sorry you had to go through so much, and she has a number of improper things she would do to Delilah Briarwood if she ever found her.” He seemed to feel Cass’s surprise from across the room and laughed softly. “I’m guessing that’s not the mother you were familiar with.

“Your father also says he is very proud of you for bringing Whitestone back from ruin, and he has heard of the way you’ve changed the government. He isn’t sure he agrees with your choice, but he trusts you, Percival, and the new Lady of Whitestone to manage it appropriately. He did not specifically say that he loves you, but I think it’s pretty heavily implied.”

Vax tucked the paper away as he walked around the pool, silently. Cass didn’t move, the raging loneliness and joy and fear and misery feeling as though they would tear her apart if she so much as breathed too deeply. Once again, his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She leaned into his armored chest, trying not to let the fantasy that she was being held by one of her brothers take hold too strongly. Finally, she composed herself enough to whisper, “Thank you, Vax.”

He looked down at her, expression inscrutable. “Of course, Cass. If you ever want to contact them again, I’ll do my best. Though apparently the timing might be off by the time I get back to you.”

She was already shaking her head, reaching around his arms to wipe her eyes and nose. “No, this was fine. More than fine. Wonderful. I could never thank you enough. I just needed to say… something. Given a reason, I may follow Vesper’s advice, still.”

There was a pause. “Which one is that again?”

She let out a teary laugh. “The oldest sister. She’s the only one interested in my future prospects, apparently.”

He squeezed her once and let go, turning her to study her face. Cass got another pang, like she was looking at a brother she’d almost forgotten she had. “Got it. I’ll do my best to be a punctual messenger, then.”

“I’ll let you go find Vex, then,” she said, reveling in the sudden lightness in her chest as she walked towards the door to the chamber. “Though if I may place one more request…”

She trailed off, debating. He watched for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

Giving in, she sighed and leaned one hand on the doorframe. “Ask Percival. I don’t know if he’ll want to right away, but I think he’s… changed… enough that he might be willing to reach out. I think it would be good for him. I think it’s been good for me.”

Vax just nodded, watching her with sad eyes. Cass gave him a nod, stepped through the door, and woke up in her bed, smiling.

[lucytara]

perc’ahlia & vaxleth fic: songs from the ash [1/2]

Keyleth can only look on, dazed, buzzing, those neon lights filling up her heart and her skin is where she wants him to write his songs; she licks her lips and tastes salt, electricity, copper, music. Percy idly drifts away imagining what it’d be like to control his dreams, and that if he could, he’d dream about Vex now, exactly like this, and no shadows would be lurking in the background.   [rock star/movie star au. fame isn't so bad, he says, if it introduced him to someone like her. 34k words. all links are clickable.]

songs from the ash

It’s an accident that he meets her at all, really; they just happen to be at the same afterparty.   He’d gotten an invitation and he’d promised Keyleth he’d take her if he did, secretly hoping he wasn’t yet popular enough to warrant an invite to an awards show for an art he wasn’t even involved in. But apparently he is, to his chagrin; he’s an actor, for god’s sake, not a musician. That’s likely the family influence.   Either way, it’s how he’s ended up at the Grammys with Keyleth squirming impatiently at his side as they await the announcement of the winner for “Best New Artist.” He watches faces and songs he doesn’t recognize flash across the giant screens and thinks that maybe he should start listening to the radio.   Damn his recent, more mainstream work. He should’ve stuck to indie.   Keyleth suddenly screams next to him, clapping wildly and whistling. He keeps his expression politely engaged, remembering they’re in pretty good seats and riding a wave of fame at the moment, meaning they’re likely to be panned to at random intervals for online streams of the audience, or whatever; fortunately Keyleth’s excitement is genuine and he’s a pretty good actor. Or so his reviews say.   An odd, mismatched group of people traipse up to the stage, grinning and giggling and shoving each other - one of them is huge, definitely cracking six and a half feet - and the screen behind them reads Vox Machina. Two members of the five-person group step up to the mic, eerily similar in appearance; they’re definitely related, both with long black hair and similar bone structure, though the boy is a little more angular, sharper. The woman speaks first, holding her award in the air and smiling widely; she says, “Here’s to our darling father, who told us we’d never amount to anything,” and Percy is immediately captivated despite himself. Her brother laughs loudly and raises a finger - Percy’s sure this is quite unprofessional and absolutely not allowed on television, but the audience is widely amused; Keyleth hollers next to him - and a small girl with white hair tugs the mic down and says, “No, really, thank you so much, we love our fans, thanks, this is amazing--” before the exit music starts to play.   The big guy in the back bends down and screams “Rage on!” and the crowd goes nuts, Keyleth included.   He leans over to her. “Who are they? What kind of music do they play? That was a wildly inappropriate display.”   Her eyes are bright as she turns to him. “Oh, they’re the best,” she gushes enthusiastically. “Vox Machina - they’re alternative rock, mostly, but they’ve got some songs that hedge on punk.” That explains it, Percy thinks. “Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan, they’re the twins and the frontrunners - he shreds on the guitar, she’s an amazing singer and I think she can secretly play every instrument - the shorter guy, that’s Scanlan, he definitely can play every instrument and he’s like, a classically trained singer - Grog’s the big one and he drums, obviously - and then there’s Pike, the smaller girl, who mostly plays the keys.” She barely breathes while she tells him this, her excitement getting in the way of her basic primal needs, like oxygen. She’s been trying to engage him in their music for the better part of a year, so his slight interest is driving her wild.   “Wow,” he says, because there’s not much else to say. “I’m intrigued, if nothing else.”   “I’ll get you to fall in love with them if it’s the last thing I ever do,” she declares dramatically, riding the high of their win.   He rolls his eyes but humors her; he knows better than to trample on other people’s passions.   And--   Well--   As it turns out, she’s almost right.   --   They’re at one of the smaller after-parties - he couldn’t say whose, as Keyleth had mostly planned their itinerary for the night, despite the invitations being directed at him - and though it’s crowded, it’s a cooler, looser crowd; the setting is more relaxed than he’s used to, and everyone’s letting their hair down, dancing, drinking, laughing, yelling.   The music is loud and pulses through him. Keyleth starts to sway automatically.   “I want a drink,” she shouts, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the bar. Not like he could lose her, anyway; she’s tall and towers over a lot of people there. Keyleth often gets mistaken for a model whenever they go out in public, which endlessly amuses him because she’s just so awkward. Objectively, yes, Keyleth is gorgeous, but she spends more time covered in soil and talking to the plants she fills his apartment with than him for him to ever think of her as anything models usually encompass - grace and elegance, for starters.   (First thing to know about Keyleth: she ferociously believes that in another life, she’s a florist instead of an actress, or maybe she’s a national park ranger, or she’s botanist, or a wild creature that lives in the forest and carves herself a home out of a hollow tree - in truth, she can never pick which one is most appealing to her. All of them are fitting.)   The bartender raises a quick eyebrow as he spots her, immediately coming to her service. “What can I get you?”   She smiles and her teeth sparkle. “Four shots, tequila. And then I’d like a paloma, please.”   (Second thing to know about Keyleth: she can sure fucking drink.)   The bartender nods once, looking simultaneously impressed and concerned, before shifting his attention to Percy. “You?”   He opens his mouth to answer, and that’s when he sees her.   She’s sitting on the other side of the bar, talking animatedly to her brother and a dark-skinned man with piercing eyes and long hair tied back at the nape of his neck. Her lips wrap around her straw through her smile. She’s positively radiant. She’s ethereal, she’s glowing, she’s otherwordly--   The bartender glances back to see what he’s staring at and snickers. “Yeah,” he says, understanding. “She’s fuckin’ something else, isn’t she?”   Percy swallows and says, “Erm.”   “He’ll have a mojito,” Keyleth interrupts. “Make it strong.”   --   He’s not going to talk to her, of course. He’s a gentleman and he doesn’t want to disturb her night. And, of course, she’s way out of his fucking league.   But Keyleth - bless Keyleth, who completely doesn’t give a shit about any of the things Percy does, so free-spirited and pure-intentioned - downs two shots in quick succession while pushing the other two towards Percy, who follows, choking slightly, and walks confidently around the bar to where two members of her favorite band are relaxing in the afterglow of their win.   Vax’ildan tilts his head and catches sight of the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his life, holy shit, what the fuck, standing behind him with an easy-going grin. She slides in next to him and asks loudly (the music’s overpowering and pounding and Vax can feel it in his bones), “I love your band and I think you guys are awesome, do you wanna do shots with me?”   Vex laughs nicely over his shoulder, but he can’t tear his gaze away from this transcendent being beside him, her long red hair spiraling over her shoulders, her eyes almost the color of gold - he says, “Erm, fuck yeah.” He’s seen her somewhere before, he knows, maybe a runway - he can’t put his finger on it, she looks kind of like a model, but--   She smiles again and signals the bartender for four more shots.   “Here,” she says, passing him one, Vex one, and downs the other two by herself. Vax is fucking in love with her already. She blinks slowly, her lips in a lazy curl. “There,” she says, pleased. “Now I feel great.”   “I bet you do,” Vex replies, admiration in her voice, but she’s staring somewhere else.   Gilmore is obviously delighted. He chortles out, “What a firecracker.”   “Please excuse us,” a boy with a shock of white hair says from behind her, apologetic and uncomfortable; Vax hadn’t even noticed him until just now, but that hair on him is unmistakable--   “I’m sorry,” Vax says, completely entranced, “but what is your name?”   She leans closer to him suddenly, her fingers grasping the bar; the man next her tuts under his breath and steadies her. “I’m Keyleth,” she says, like she’s a fucking angel or something, which, Vax thinks, she probably is.   Vex repeats, “Keyleth--”   He knows that name - Keyleth, Keyleth, the way it rolls around in his mouth, Keyleth, Keyleth - “Oh, shit,” he says, recognition washing over him. “You’re in that film--!”     She laughs delightedly. “Am I?”   Vax finally tears his eyes away from Keyleth to the boy she’s with and it’s-- “You too! You were in--”   Vex finishes excitedly, “--The Sun Tree! I knew it was you, how could I not, but I didn’t want to interrupt -- oh, hells, we love that movie, it’s absolutely brilliant--” and Vax sees the anchor of her stare had been Percival the entire time, who has done nothing but silently take her in for the past five minutes, lacking Keyleth’s unconcerned nature, afraid to take a step.   “Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the Third,” he introduces quickly, as he is prone to do when he is nervous or showing off; in this case it’s the former.   Keyleth waves a hand airily. “You can call him Percy.”   “Percy,” Vex echoes, and oh, he has never loved himself more than when she is holding him in her eyes.   --   Our manager, Shaun Gilmore, I’m Vax’ildan, that’s my sister, Vex’ahlia. Short, brief, to the point.   “Charmed,” Gilmore says, winking and clapping Vax on the shoulder before slipping out.   Keyleth, now undeniably a little (a lot) drunk, leans her chin in palm, elbow on the bar. “Is there a garden?” she asks.   “Probably,” Vax answers. “Big property, isn’t it? Let’s have a look.”   He takes her by the hand and stands; she’s taller than him, which he thinks is fantastic, truthfully, though he’s sure they’ll be a bit more even when she’s not wearing heels, and waits for her agreement; she laughs lighter than the chime of the wind, and begins to drag him away with her. “I love flowers,” Percy hears her state as they head off, Vax’s face torn between dumbfounded and inspired.   Percy wearily collapses on the now vacant barstool next to Vex, shaking his head. “Sorry about that,” he says, still not quite able to look at her for longer than a few seconds at a time. “She’s - ah - insatiable and innocent. It’s an interesting combination.”   “Clearly,” Vex answers, her tone playful. “Not your girlfriend, I’d gathered that much.”   He nearly chokes on his drink. “No, gods, no. Best friend, co-star on occasion.”   “Good. He’s already obsessed with her,” she nods after her brother. “Better it be someone available.” She pauses. “Any particular reason you can’t bear to look at me, darling?”   His face burns red, his ears hot, his neck tingling. He peaks at her over the rim of his glasses. He catches her fingers curling around her glass - rum and coke by the looks of it - the swell of her chest peeking out of her dress, her hair let out of its braid, loose and flowing and lightly curled against her back, her cheeks, the bright blue feather behind her ear - and he says, “I’ve not meant to be rude. It’s simply that - you’re a little too beautiful and I’m - new at this, I suppose. I apologize.”   She’s silent for a moment, and when he sneaks another glance at her he’s surprised to see her expression flushed with a similar embarrassment; he’s caught her off-guard. The idea emboldens him slightly and he keeps his eyes locked on her.   She meets his gaze and her lips turn up abashedly, genuinely. “That’s charming. Thank you. I appreciate your efforts to maximize my comfort, but I don’t mind if you stare. I’m aware of how good I look.”   He laughs, startling himself. “Well, as I’ve been given permission, I must admit I feel much better about the whole thing.”   “Excellent, because I’ve my own compliments to shower upon you,” she says, and holy hells, she’s too charming and easy for her own good - the air is warm around her, all the light is coming from her smile - “Truly, Percival, let me sing your praises again - I love your films. Honestly, Vax and I have seen The Sun Tree too many times to count, I recognized you instantly - we’re big on fantasy,” she tells him, a hand briefly resting on his arm. She’s a little drunk herself, he’s realizing; but then again, who isn’t - it is a party.   “We’re filming the sequel at the moment,” he provides, holding back a laugh at her excited squeal.   “Tell me nothing,” she says. “I want to be surprised and enthralled. Will you be attending the Academy Awards in a few weeks, as well?”   “Oh, no,” he says bashfully, embarrassed that she even thinks he’s good enough to go. “My most recent film released after the cutoff date - I’ll qualify for next year, but as for this year, I have work obligations, so fortunately I can skip.” The music shifts, a base line thumping around his heart. Vex’s mouth twitches. He doesn’t think much of it. “And you?” he asks. “You’ve accomplished quite a musical feat - what’s next?”   His tone is sincere, interested; she allows a full-blown curl of her lips and moves closer, cornering him, a strangely victorious glint in her eye. “You’ve never heard our music,” she accuses, apparently amused at the revelation.   He weighs his options and decides on the truth. “No,” he admits sheepishly. “I haven’t. It’s a priority now, though. What gave me away?”   She laughs loudly, gesturing at the speakers. “This is us.”   He freezes immediately, becoming hyper aware of the beat in the background; it’s oddly refined for something so rough - it’s her voice singing, low and sensual and sharp at the edges, cutting into him with an edge that feels good - the notes are clean and the drums aren’t overpowering and it flows in a way he didn’t really think rock music, or punk-rock, whatever they are, was capable of.   She’s watching him take it in and she’s silently mouthing the words without realizing it; her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Find me someone out there whose heart isn’t full of holes, my hands are bloody from refusing to let you go. Damn. He kind of hopes she didn’t write this.   “Did you write this?” he asks.   “No,” she says, and then: “Well, sort of. The sentiment of the song came from Pike, but Vax and I helped her with the lyrics.”   “It’s good.” He clears his throat. “It’s great. You’re - you’re an incredible singer.” He frowns at his own attempt to pay her a compliment. “It’s not that I didn’t like your music, by the way. Keyleth is always telling me my taste in music is a grave offense to ‘all of the beautiful things life has to offer.’”   Vex laughs again. “And what is your taste in music?”   “I have none.”   “Well, that certainly is a problem, then, isn’t it?” Her knee brushes his. He feels the condensation of his glass dripping across his fingers. “I’ll have to fix that.”   “Please,” he answers, trying to fall back into it, relaxing against the bar. “I’m bereft. Clearly I’m missing a core defining aspect of the traditionally constructed personality. I was in a rush when I created mine.”   “It’s a good thing you’ve got me, now, dear,” she says playfully, and the world keeps turning.   Over the course of the next few hours, Percy learns that Vex is beautiful everywhere; he sees it in the way her fingers curl delicately around his wrist when she’s sincere, how her hidden talent is actually archery and not the fact that she can play most instruments, the brush of her eyelashes against her cheek as she winks (which she does, often, because she clearly knows how to get what she wants from him, from everybody); it’s in the almost sultry tone of her voice when she calls him darling and dear, her mouth against the rim of her drink, the way she throws her head back when she laughs. Vex is funny and she’s clever; he banters with her like he was born knowing the trigger to her smile, and she provides insightful commentary from angles he’s never bothered to consider. She calls him out when his words drop from his lips in ways he doesn’t intend them and he challenges her prejudices against the industry and the fame and the wealth.   “Percival, darling, we had vastly different upbringings,” she points out. “Not to dwell, as I’ve a tad more tact than that, but I do know what you come from.”   The slight hinting at his past doesn’t sting the way he’s used to; he finds he actually appreciates the promptness and matter-of-fact tone she’s adopted while discussing it. “Fair,” he concedes. “I don’t know yours, though, do I?”   “Syldor Vessar is my father,” she says, and he raises his eyebrows in shock. “Yes, you would know of him, as I’d assumed. Being a Lord yourself,” she teases, and he reddens once again. “Or is it Duke? I’ve no taste for royalty. You outrank our father by miles, though, I know that much.”   “I don’t tend to adhere to that custom,” he says. “I’m no Lord, nor Duke. I mean, technically, yes, I am - but my sister Cassandra is much more suited to the position than I.” He smirks at her. “And I get the sense you’d have a taste for the right royalty.”   “Ta,” she answers, grinning back. “And as Syldor’s bastard children, Vax and I were also quite unsuited to that life.” She hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip, before adding: “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”   Ah, of course.   Being from England, she would be aware of the incident - most people who search him, he imagines, are - the fire that claimed his family and forced him and his sister into positions they weren’t ready for.   “It isn’t for you to concern yourself with,” he says gently, trying to cue to her that he appreciates it but doesn’t want to discuss it further. Fortunately, she’s perceptive and picks up on the message easily enough, offering a sharp nod in return. “I can have Cassandra stir up some trouble for your father, though, if you’d prefer. Where does he reside?”   She laughs; such a welcome sound. “Reading.”   “Marquess of Reading?”   “Yes. And your sister - Duchess of Cornwall, is that correct?”   “Yes,” he affirms, suddenly missing Cassandra terribly. “She is quite fit for royalty, though she never should’ve achieved such high status.”   “Royalty fits you as well, Percival,” Vex says, looking at him intensely, carefully, a wicked glint shining in her eye, like royalty is an outfit she’s dressing him in. “My Lord.”   A jolt of electricity shoots up his spine, channeling the rest of his bones, like he’s made of copper and metal. He isn’t sure what to make of it. “Ah, that’s - erm - really not...necessary, Lady Vex’ahlia.”   She grimaces and flips him the bird. “You’ve proved your point. I’m no Lady.”   He takes her offensive hand in his own, covering it, pulling her closer - maybe it’s the alcohol, the dimness of the fairy lights, the moon shadowing overhead - her lips red, her eyes a dark mirror of the night sky, the catch of breath in her lungs - “Say what you must, but I disagree,” he murmurs. “Look at you.”   She swallows quietly. “Yeah?”   “I’ve known plenty of people with money, dear, and they are certainly not worth you.”   --   Keyleth bends down, her face buried against the roses, fingers gently scraping against the thorns; she lays her palms flat against the grass, the mossy rocks, the rough tree bark. Her heels lay strewn somewhere by the garden path. Vax watches as if he’s in a trance, this unearthly nymph, this woodland creature - “Keyleth,” he says in awe, absolutely struck by her raw love of life, “Keyleth, what are you?”   She smiles wide and takes his hand, pressing a loose petal into his palm, and then holding it to her heart.   “Don’t you feel that?” she asks lowly, and he smells the tequila but there’s also something fresh, like rain on woodchips, fog; she inhales deeply. “The entire earth inside of me. I could’ve been a forest, once, you know.”   “You’re absolutely nuts,” he says. “I want to marry you.”   She laughs and laughs and laughs, falling back against the grass like nothing in life could ever make her happier. He lies beside her and lets her tell him of wonderful, impossible things; how she believes she belongs to another world, one where she tends to the world’s largest garden and carries the light of the sun in her bare hands, and if he were interested, perhaps the two of them could grow tomatoes together.   “I am,” he says vehemently, “I am,” and for a split second, he swears he recognizes her from a different life, a flash of a bed of flowers and a flickering pair of raven’s wings, their souls in flux across the universe.   --   Vex’s eyes dart down to his lips, her heart pounding; she’s full of fire and smoke, explosions beating against her ribcage, and there’s this boy, his gasp of white hair, his rounded glasses, his earnestness - his shy attraction, his quieted demons, his addicting voice - he’s so handsome, he’s so--   “Beautiful,” Vex whispers. “You, too, you know. You’re beautiful.”   He blinks slowly, dazedly, and she leans forward--   “Hey, Stubby,” her brother’s stupid fucking nickname for her rings in her ear, and she’s absolutely going to kill him tonight. “Come on, we’ve got to go. It’s nearly four.”   Percy pulls back, looking sheepish and nervous again. The announcement of the time deters her from murder for a moment. “Is it really?”   “Yep,” Vax says cheerfully, his arm around Keyleth, who’s a little unsteady at his side.   “Percy!” she says, and flings her arms around him overenthusiastically. “I’m having so much fun!”   “It certainly seems so,” he says, his glasses knocked askew. Vex restrains a smile, not wanting to reveal anything to her brother about how her night had gone.   “Percy, we haven’t watered your plants for hours.”   “I’m sure they’re fine.”   Vax grins, unconcerned, uncaring of whatever Vex might gather from his expression. Well, they always did differ that way. Vax wore his positive emotions on his sleeve; Vex cloaked them in whatever material she could get her hands on.   “Keyleth,” Vax says her name unbearably softly, and oh, he’s so fucking fucked. She turns to face him, releasing Percy. “It was lovely to spend the evening with you.”   He takes her hand and presses a kiss to it, and she giggles. “You too, Vax. Thanks for - humoring me.”   “I wasn’t.” He says it so seriously that she can’t doubt the sincerity.   She giggles again bashfully and says, “Well, I - thanks, and I guess I’ll - you know, see you around.”   “Definitely.”   Vex looks at Percy and rolls her eyes pointedly. He half-smiles in response, but she knows exactly what he means.   A hand smacks the back of her head. “Up. Let’s go.”   “Fuck, Vax, okay,” she snarls, instantly annoyed with him. He gets the perfect night and then ruins the climax of hers. Fucker. “I’m coming.”   It’s enough for him - he turns and starts shouting for Grog, who Vex is pretty sure has been challenging people to arm wrestling and shotgunning contests all night.   Keyleth also starts wobbling away, heading for the gate. Vex slips off the stool to her feet as Percy remains, still a bit stupefied; his eyes follow her, and he says, “Vex’ahlia.”   “Yes?” she asks, unmoving.   He seems to deliberate for a second before smiling delicately and saying, “I meant what I said.”   The spell has been broken already, and the moment is clearly over, but she bends down anyway and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, her hand resting gently underneath his jaw, his fingertips against her wrist.   “You don’t know me,” she says, slipping for the briefest of seconds, and there’s a sadness to her he hadn’t called attention to before. “Goodnight, Percival.”   “Goodnight,” he breathes out, his hand falling away as she steps to join her brother, and it’s the last time he sees her for months.   --   So, Percy’s bright, sure. He’s intelligent. But he’s also a fucking idiot.   “I can’t believe you didn’t get her phone number,” Keyleth says for the thousandth time, sending a text to Vax, who’s somewhere in the rural wilderness of Montana at the moment.   “Thanks, Keyleth,” Percy answers, disappointment unfolding in his stomach as he scrolls on his laptop, seeing paparazzi pictures of her from a few days earlier leaving a bar with some guy. He’s jealous, even though he has no reason to be - it was one night, one conversation, over a month ago. He needs to get over it.   “I can ask Vax about the guy, if you want,” Keyleth offers helpfully as a crew member touches up her make-up. They’ve started filming the sequel to The Sun Tree, called Passed Through Fire. He thinks of Vex constantly, wondering if she’ll see it, if she’ll love it, how she’ll feel watching him. He tries to do a better job. He wants his future self to impress her, somehow.   “No, it’s fine,” he says dejectedly, immediately wincing at the sound of his own pathetic voice. They’ve had this conversation before, always ending in the same denial.   Keyleth frowns, because she’s a good friend, because she wants him to be happy - “Too bad,” she says, quickly typing out a message with a flourish, “I’m asking.”   “No, Keyleth, don’t--” he tries to stop her, but it’s been sent. He hangs his head and rubs his eyes. “Balls.”   TO: Vax Hey who’s that guy your sister was with the other night? Saw the pics   FROM: Vax o that’s just jarrett. he sometimes works security w us & he acts as her bodyguard when she’s out alone   FROM: Vax y   TO: Vax Percy was totally jealous lol but don’t tell him I told you   FROM: Vax hahaha does he want her # i can just give it to u   FROM: Vax she wants his 2 lets do a swap shes always moping around now   TO: Vax I love matchmaking!!   She swipes “share contact” and gets Vex’s number in a matter of seconds - she saves it, but doesn’t do anything with it yet. “He’s her bodyguard,” she tells Percy, who perks up instantly.   “Not that it’s any of my business,” he supplies, and Keyleth just grins.   “Sure,” she says, continuing to text Vax, letting Percy have his moment of relief in private. He’s called to set a second later, and the scene goes brilliantly; they only do three takes just to get the angles, and the director has no notes for him.   He heads back to his chair, Keyleth now in full hair and makeup, still texting away.   His phone buzzes suddenly, and he opens the home screen--   Keyleth, grinning even wider, has sent him Vex’s contact details.   She’s called for her scene a moment later, and before he can even process what he’s staring at, she says, “You can thank me later.”   He doesn’t thank her. He’s done for the day, and he heads home without another word to anybody.   --   Vex is scrolling through twitter when Vax approaches from behind - she’s lived with him forever, and she can sense him coming, but she doesn’t bother deterring him - she’s got pretty good aim if he does something obnoxious.   “Guess what Keyleth told me,” Vax sing-songs in her ear, loud and annoying. She reaches up a hand and swats him away.   “What?” she asks, kind of curious despite herself.   Vax smirks. “His Royal Highness saw those pictures of you with Jarrett,” he says, shrugging. “Apparently, they made him a tad jealous...”   Vex struggles to keep her voice level; internally she’s burning again. “Is that so?”   “Yeah.”   “Well, thanks for the update,” she says, and returns to her twitter feed.   Vax rolls his eyes. “I know you fancy him,” he says. “Quit being so bloody obtuse.”   “I’m not doing anything,” she argues, not lifting her eyes from her phone. That’s not it, she wants to say. It’s more than that. He knew me, Vax, I swear. Like from somewhere else. Like recognizing someone you’ve never met. He knew.   But she doesn’t say anything.   “When was the last time you shagged about with Jarrett?” he prods, and she senses a challenge coming but she won’t give in.   She side-eyes him. “A few months ago,” she answers honestly; nothing to hide there. He knew the answer, anyway.   “Why’d you stop?”   Fucking prick. “Because--” she starts, and stops, and starts again, a sputtering engine. Because I keep dreaming in monochrome, because I see his eyes when I blink; because I can almost taste him. “Fuck off, Vax,” she says instead. He’s so beautiful it haunts her. She wants to ruin him like he’s ruining her. There’s that smoldering heat - the desire for his shy stare, probing her - she doesn’t want him to look at anyone else like he’d looked at her then.   Her phone buzzes; Vax’s name pops up, along with the contact details for Lord Percival whatever whatever de Rolo, and Vex has to do everything in her power to keep her emotions sealed tight.   “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Vax says, and she’s on the verge of combusting.   She doesn’t do anything with it. Not yet. Instead, she searches his name on twitter and follows him.   And then follows him on every other platform he has an account on.   --   @imvexthatsvax I’m flattered. I loved your album.   @percivalderolo glad to see you’re finally developing your personality, darling.   --   (Nobody really knows what to do with that exchange.)   --   It’s nothing, but Percy rereads her tweet over and over again. He still can’t shake his inadequacy - she’s so much larger than life, so confident and sure of herself, so untethered and unshaken - and he’s, well - he’s pretty fucked up.   He’s better now, sure. He goes to therapy. But the world knows his story and to them, he’s like a war hero, a tragedy-turned-to-art, some sort of sad, beautiful thing that is deserving of an embrace. He feels slightly like everyone is clamoring to adopt him, like he’s lost, soulless.   Which - even if he is - he’s dealing with it. He’s trying. He’s becoming.   He hovers over Vex’s contact details again; she doesn’t have time for broken pieces of his life when hers is already so full.   --   PercivaldeRolo liked your photo.   The thing that really starts to eat at Vex is how famous he is.   He’s on the cover of magazines, he’s interviewed on talk shows, there are paparazzi pictures of him everywhere; he’s a movie star for fuck’s sake. He’s royalty. He’s every possible intimidating title tucked into one person, and he represents so much of the acceptance she and Vax never got.   PercivaldeRolo liked your photo. It’s a picture Vax took of her with her feet up on the dashboard of their tour bus. Sometimes she likes to sit up front and stare out at the unfolding scenery ahead, the countryside shifting around them, the bustling towns, the big cities, the secluded forests, the vast, empty valleys.   “Hey, Kiki, look at this,” Vax says from behind her, and she twists around to see him holding his phone up to the window. “The fields! I don’t know if the quality is any good, but the flowers are blooming--”   “It’s so pretty!” She can hear Keyleth’s exclamation through Vax’s earphones. “Percy, hey, check this out--”   “Hey, de Rolo,” Vax says, waving into the camera, and quickly shifts the phone towards her. “The gang’s all here!”   Vex suddenly can’t move, so overwhelmed by the idea that after a month, Percy can see her - he’s staring at her now, she wonders what his face his like, his eyes, if his lips are still where she left them - ”He says hi,” Vax passes on - and she smiles as her stomach bubbles up, her heart in her throat. She raises a hand carefully and waves.   “Hello, darling,” she says, and to her relief her voice sounds steady.   Vax is silent for a moment. “He says you’ve failed your duties.”   “Sorry?”   “He’s still without tunes.”   She feels herself smiling without a thought. “Keyleth isn’t helping you with that?”   “He doesn’t trust me, Vex!” She hears Keyleth yell. “He’d trust you, though--”   Vax laughs at whatever is happening on-screen. She stands, suddenly ill, and pushes past Vax. “Sorry - need to make a call,” she hastily excuses, and she glances back over her shoulder and catches sight of that white hair, those glasses, and she--   She crawls into a bunk with Pike, who says nothing and rubs her back as Vax’s voice echoes throughout the bus, Keyleth’s name falling from his lips like a prayer.   --   (She hears ta, Percival, and her lungs shudder in her chest. Pike’s hand falters over her spine.   It’s tough, she whispers to Pike.   I know, honey.)   --   But damn it, Percy likes her.   He watches her performances on YouTube, sometimes of her concerts the day after she’s played them; he reads interviews the band has done, listens and listens again to their album. He has most, if not all, of their songs memorized.   “I don’t get it,” Keyleth says one night as she re-pots one of his plants that she’s convinced is bored of its soil. “Why won’t you just talk to her?”   “Because she’s too good for me.”   “Oh, Percy,” Keyleth tuts under her breath. “You know that’s not true.”   “I know no such thing,” he states immovably, keeping his eyes trained on the old radio he’s tinkering with.   “You’re a good person.”   “Perhaps, perhaps not.”   “Okay, I take it back,” Keyleth huffs. “You’re exasperating.”   Percy smiles. “That’s more like it.” He feels sort of bad, though, because he knows Keyleth is trying to help; he doesn’t want her to think he’s taking her for granted. “Look, Keyleth - it was easy for you and Vax, and that’s great. But I’m...struggling. And I don’t think she even - it’s been weeks, hasn’t it? She doesn’t fancy me like that.”   “Vax and I aren’t dating,” Keyleth says bizarrely, undermining everything Percy has previously believed.   “What?” he asks, craning his neck to look at her. Her expression is troubled and confused, but the flowers hold her gaze. “What do you mean?”   “I mean we aren’t dating,” she repeats, straightening a bouquet. “He’s not into me like that.”   “Keyleth,” Percy says slowly, fearing he’s entered an alternate reality, “that boy is obsessed with you.”   “He can have anyone he wants,” she reasons to herself aloud. “He’s a rock star, Percy, he’s like - he’s just so cool, and I’m just me.”   Percy’s stunned into silence, but there’s a deeper truth there, lingering underneath the absurdity of her words - he sees himself reflected in them, damaged and uncertain and afraid.   Well, balls. Maybe this is what he sounds like to her. Maybe it’s time he start leading by example.   “You aren’t just anything,” he says kindly, and Keyleth smiles brightly in response. “He’d be the luckiest person in the world if you chose to give him a chance.”   She starts humming to herself as she tends to the rest of the flowers. Percy picks up his phone and texts--   TO: Vex’ahlia Hello.   --   “Band meeting!” Vax yells as they approach a McDonald’s at two in the morning, somewhere in Vermont. They pile out of the bus, Vex clutching her phone tightly, Grog carrying Pike in on his back. He orders fifty nuggets between them and Vex knows he’ll eat about forty of them. They get five orders of fries and a couple Big Macs and hole up in a corner, even though the place is basically deserted.   “So what’d he say?” Vax pokes her in the side, shoving fries in his mouth with his free hand.   “‘Hello,’” Vex quotes, staring down at her phone.   “Well, he’s clearly thinking about you,” Pike points out, smothering her nuggets in honey mustard. “I mean, he’s had your number for awhile, right?”   “According to Vax.”   “Yep,” the boy supplies helpfully, still chewing.   “So obviously he’s been holding onto it for whatever reason, like, debating whether or not to text you,” Pike rationalizes. “What are you so worried about?”   “He’s royalty,” Vex says vehemently. “He’s a movie star.”   “You’re royalty, too,” Grog responds, and slurps loudly at his coke. “And you’re a music star.”   “What do I say?” Vex asks the group, having a mild internal crisis that nobody can quite decipher the cause of. Scanlan finally takes a stand, leaning over the table.   He says, “I’ve got an idea.” He takes her phone and types something in before sliding it back to her with a shit-eating grin. She glances down.   “‘Hey,’” she reads aloud.   “It’s perfect,” Scanlan says. “Short, sweet, to the point.”   She stares blankly at him. Vax laughs loudly, and even Pike stifles a grin.   Grog says, “I like it.”   When her expression doesn’t change, Scanlan sighs; well, he is the oldest of the group, after all, he claims, and he’s beyond petty dramatics. He says patiently, “Vex, just fucking say hi. Just be his friend - the poor guy, he always seems so lonely. What’s so terrifying about just being a friend?”   She thinks of Saundor with his hand around her throat, spitting into her face about her cruelty and selfishness and worthlessness; Syldor and the disapproval etched into his face like age lines, his eyes unforgiving and cold; she thinks of the sting of rejection, of never, ever being good enough, or talented enough, or noble enough - I know people with money and they are definitely not worth you--   TO: Percival de Rolo hello   TO: Percival de Rolo what do you think of this lyric - “and I swear that if I could, I’d rid my blood of you and give it back”   FROM: Percival de Rolo I support the sentiment.   FROM: Percival de Rolo But I implore you to keep your blood where it is. You need it to live.   “We’re good,” Vex declares to the table, and Grog celebrates by shoving five nuggets into his mouth at once.   --   It’s as if he’s finally knocked down an imagined, previously thought to be impenetrable barrier just by saying hello; she texts him all the time - when she’s bored, when she’s excited, when she’s upset, when she’s inspired; for every reason, just because - and she’s so engaging and definitive within herself that he can’t help but be drawn to her. Sometimes he feels as if his own identity is a stone’s throw away from shattering entirely, like he isn’t always sure he’s all the things he pretends to be, but he feels more himself than ever when he’s talking to her, which comforts him and terrifies him equal amounts.   (3 days ago FROM: Vex’ahlia i must say, i do quite prefer flying to driving. so much quicker. better views.   TO: Vex’ahlia Disagree. Depends on what you’re looking at, I think.   FROM: Vex’ahlia the grand canyon.   TO: Vex’ahlia Ah, well, that would be a nice view.   2 days ago FROM: Vex’ahlia how do you feel about dragons?   TO: Vex’ahlia Well, I’m convinced that all mythology came from somewhere, with a basis in reality…   FROM: Vex’ahlia i feel as if i wouldn’t trust them.   TO: Vex’ahlia You’d be one. A magnificent blue dragon hoarding treasure.   FROM: Vex’ahlia does sound like me. too complimentary, percival, truly.   Yesterday, 4:05 AM FROM: Vex’ahlia i can’t sleep. you should hear grog snore. maybe i’ll kill him just to shut him up.   TO: Vex’ahlia Dear, I think your talents are best left out of prison.   FROM: Vex’ahlia did i wake you?   TO: Vex’ahlia I shall neither confirm nor deny, for fear of you stubbornly deciding I shan’t be texted in the wee hours of the morning.   FROM: Vex’ahlia you flatter me. my every whim is meant to be answered. i expect nothing less from you.   TO: Vex’ahlia Oh, excellent, so we’re on the same page.)   Keyleth comes barging into his hotel room one evening in mid-April - they’re filming on location for the next month, somewhere just outside of Atlanta - and throws herself across his bed, her phone glowing in her hands.   “Vax invited us to a concert,” she squeaks out, overcome with exhilaration. “It’s this weekend and we aren’t filming - Saturday night in New York!”   TO: Vex’ahlia Your brother invited us to a show?   FROM: Vex’ahlia yes, i wasn’t supposed to ruin the surprise - are you going to come? :)   TO: Vex’ahlia Do you want me to come?   FROM: Vex’ahlia don’t you want to see me rock out in-person, all american-like? it’s much more satisfying than a grainy youtube video   TO: Vex’ahlia Well, with an offer like that.   “That sounds wonderful,” Percy says agreeably, his stomach knotting and tensing at the very idea.   “We get backstage passes and everything,” she informs him, almost trembling with anticipation. “Can you believe it?!”   He can, actually, as they probably could’ve gotten them anyway, seeing as who they are - but it’s the same reason Keyleth is so refreshing; she’s always herself in her eyes, nothing more and nothing less, an awkward bumbling girl who prefers trees to people despite her gift of acting. He imagines she’s the type of person to win an Oscar and say, oh, wow, I had no idea you guys felt this way about me, and it endears her to him all the more.   Percy reaches for his laptop on his nightstand. “S’pose we should start booking tickets. Where are they playing, anyway?”   “Terminal 5,” she says. “You’ve been to the city more than I have, so I’ll leave the planning to you, for once.”   “Hang on.” Percy unlocks his phone again. “It’s probably best if we go through the official channels.” Keyleth hums noncommittally as Percy dials his agent.   “Hey, Percy,” the voice greets warmly after a few rings. “How’s the shoot so far?”   “Hello, Allura,” he responds, and Keyleth echoes his greeting in the background. “Going well, thanks, but I’m actually calling in regards to some personal business.”   “Are you finally handing me a proper Hollywood scandal, Percival?”   He smiles. “Afraid not.”   “An agent can dream.” She’s teasing him, he knows - if anything, he is an agent’s dream and she’s well aware of it. “What’s up?”   “Keyleth and I have been invited to see Vox Machina in New York on Saturday night. I figured we’d spend the weekend.”   “Oh? By who?”   “The band.”   She laughs. “I approve. I can make this work - it’ll be good to have you seen out and about supporting other forms of art. Kima and I will take care of reservations for the two of you.”   “And how’s Kima?” he asks, and not just out of politeness or obligation - he loves Kima and Allura, and it couldn’t have been better luck for him and Keyleth to have agents who are married to each other, considering whenever they do anything personal it’s usually together anyway. It makes it easy for their agents to coordinate.   “She’s great. She’s going over a few releases about Keyleth’s upcoming movie - let Keyleth know that the early reviews are all overwhelmingly positive. I know she missed a few screenings already because of work.”   He brings the phone away from his mouth slightly. “Keyleth, you’re getting excellent reviews for Aramente.”   She rolls over, looking at him upside-down, her eyes bright. “Really?!”   “Yes.”   “Cool!” She stares dreamily at the ceiling for a moment. “That was a fun movie. That’s so cool.”   “Anyway,” Allura continues, “I’ll send over your reservations and any pertinent info in a few.”   “Fantastic. Much appreciated. Ta,” he says, and he hangs up.   He and Keyleth relax in silence awhile longer, lounging on his bed - Allura sends him an email with a hotel reservation and options for flights, leaving that for Percy to book himself. They decide they’ll arrive Friday early evening, sparing the risk of any travel fatigue, and then they’ll have all day Saturday to do whatever they want.   He forwards the itinerary to Vex, who texts him immediately.   FROM: Vex’ahlia we’re at the same hotel and we arrive friday morning. you’ll spend the night out with us, won’t you, percival? we have a show that night but should be done by 10:30.   TO: Vex’ahlia What are your plans after? We’d be honored   “Hey, Percy, we’ll go to Central Park, right? I mean, I love the city, but wouldn’t it be nice to have a picnic or something?” Keyleth interrupts his train of thought and he pauses typing for a moment, continuing the rest of the sentence distractedly.   “Sure - if you don’t mind people possibly approaching us we can go to Sheep Meadow,” he allows, knowing Keyleth loves meeting fans, “or we can just walk along until we find an appropriate, somewhat secluded location. And if the weather’s nice,” he adds as an afterthought, sending the message without realizing what he’s typed, which is--   TO: Vex’ahlia What are your plans? We’d be honoured. I’m coming to see you, after all.   FROM: Vex’ahlia Just me in particular? ;)   “Oh, balls,” he says, blushing furiously down at the screen, Keyleth immediately takes notice and rolls back over to read his text, and then giggles cutely.   “Freudian slip?” she sing-songs, and slides halfway off the bed, stretching her limbs.   “That man was wrong about almost everything after caving to pressure from his colleagues who didn’t like the findings of his research, and frankly it’s a sin he’s still used as an authority today at all,” Percy counters, but, well - the concept does stand, in this case. He hovers inside of himself, at war. What to say, what to say.   TO: Vex’ahlia Technically, dear, yes.   --   People take their picture in the lobby. Some fans are brave enough to approach them, and they sign autographs and smile for Snaps, Grog sticking his tongue out and Pike laughing, Vax and Vex with their peace signs, Scanlan in inappropriate poses. Gilmore checks them in and gets their keys, making sure everything’s in order, and they’re spread out among a nice suite on the thirty-second floor.   Half of them decide to just crash immediately - they don’t really have plans until their show in a few hours - and Pike curls up next to Vex in one of the bedrooms, whispering animatedly.   “Don’t make fun of me,” she starts ranting, “but I’m really excited to meet them. They’re amazing actors! Everyone’s saying they’re gonna get nominated for Oscars - apparently that new movie Keyleth’s in is like, mind-blowing - and Percival’s definitely winning for Whispers. Ugh. And he’s like - I mean, come on, Vex. He’s hot.”   Vex snickers into her arms, stretched out on her stomach. “He has a nice face, I’m not disagreeing with you there.”   Pike raises herself onto her elbows. “No, like, everywhere on that boy is nice. He’s a mechanic for fun - I read that in an interview, and he was shirtless in Whispers - he’s ripped, Vex.”   This information sinks in slowly, because Vex can’t reconcile his slenderness with muscle, but Pike’s already on her phone, searching for the proof. She makes a noise of victory in her throat, shoving the device towards Vex. “Look.”   “Holy shit,” Vex says, her eyes widening, neck snapping up. “What the bloody--”   “I told you.”   “Hells,” she says, not quite able to comprehend what she’s seeing. “Christ. Wow.”   It’s just a simple still from the movie - she resolves right then and there to watch it as soon as possible - but he’s standing in a shop, shirtless, covered in soot, and Pike had not been fucking around - he is...extremely well-defined, to say the least. Chiseled, rugged. She imagines touching him, feeling his body against hers--   Pike tells her, “I wouldn’t kick him out of bed, is all I’m saying.”   “Erm, yeah.”   “I wouldn’t kick you out of bed either, though, Vex, just so you know.”   Vex winks at her. “Oh, I’m aware, darling, as you’ve had many opportunities to do so.”   Pike digs her fingers into Vex’s side, laughing as she tickles her; Vex squeals, slapping her hands away--   --   (“Girls,” Grog says, shaking his head, as he and Vax prepare to leave for lunch.   “That’s sexist, Grog, they’re just having fun,” Vax points out. “Nothing wrong with that.”   “Oh, sorry,” Grog says, genuinely apologetic. “I thought that was just something people said.”)   --   Percy and Keyleth don’t have an eventful journey aside from the usual paparazzi catching them at the airport and groups of fans clamoring around them at the gate, but they’re in first class on the plane, and there’s a private car waiting to take them to the hotel when they land.   They step out by themselves for a late lunch, knowing their dinner won’t be until after the band’s show is over; they split a nice bottle of wine at an Italian place Keyleth had picked around the corner. They’re mostly safe from photographers, though Percy’s sure a few random patrons have snapped some pictures under-the-table. Well, it goes with the territory.   After that, Keyleth’s too wired to go back to the hotel and drags him into a bar down the street with a semi-private back room; they sit at a booth and drink jalapeno margaritas, and throughout the night fans approach, asking for pictures and autographs. They oblige every time; Keyleth’s thrilled by it, honored, like she’s being given some incredible opportunity. It’s unbearably sweet.   By the time they meet the band in the lobby - the first time Percy’s seen them all together, up-close, and boy are they an intimidating group - they’re showered, fresh, and dressed for camouflage. It’s easy to blend in the city, fortunately, though Grog probably causes a stir everywhere and Percy’s hair is a dead giveaway, but he’s wearing a beanie whereas Grog’s just - a giant. All the time. Well, it is what it is.   There’s Vex again, standing in front, even more beautiful than he remembers even though she’s dressed casually in ripped jeans and a tank and hoodie; she smiles widely at him and steps forward--   Keyleth goes flying into Vax’s arms, startling him; he lifts her up and spins her around once, beaming. “Vax!” she exclaims. “It’s so good to see you! How was the show?!”   “You too, Kiki, and it was great!” He grins back at her. “Here, meet everyone, come on - Percival, great to see you as well--”   “Cheers,” Percy answers, glancing at Pike and smiling. “Hello, I’m Percival Von Mu--”   “You can call him Percy,” Keyleth interrupts customarily, waving a hand again.   Vax wraps an arm around him and grinds a hand against his hair. “You’re famous and shit, Percival!” he proclaims, and Percy laughs despite himself. “They know who you are.”   Vax lets go of him and continues the introductions; Vex approaches him and gives him a warm hug, her arms encircling his neck, her body against his - it’s brief, too brief, and he barely has the time to process the way it makes him feel before she lets him go. Upon releasing him, a phone is suddenly shoved into his face as she says, “Look, you and Keyleth are having a lovely romantic getaway this weekend.”   Sure enough, there’s an article open on some gossip website with pictures of the two of them at the airport earlier that afternoon, deep in conversation. Percy grimaces. “They’re determined to push that angle. Apparently we have an active fanbase.”   “We do,” Keyleth pipes up. “Some of the blogs are really pretty.”   “She follows them,” Percy supplies.   “They’re really nice to us.”   Pike giggles nervously as she leans up to hug Keyleth in greeting; the blush on her cheeks doesn’t hide well. “I follow blogs dedicated to us, too. It’s fun.”   “So, shall we?” Scanlan asks, and extends his arm to Pike. “My lady?”   “Oh, thanks, Scanlan, but I’m already holding someone’s hand,” she says, holding back a smirk as she places her small fingers in Grog’s, who barely notices. Scanlan moves on with a fake sigh and a rejection he’s clearly used to, so Percy doesn’t bother feeling bad for him.   --   They have dinner at a small, hole-in-the-wall burger joint in the Village - the type that New York is famous for - and it’s actually the best burger he’s ever had in his life. She sits next to him in the booth, her boots kicked out under the table, back of her hand pressed up to her mouth when she laughs. Their thighs brush, they knock elbows. He thinks about turning and kissing her and citing the small space. Sorry, he imagines saying, I just ran out of room.   They have ciders and rate them against European ones. She’d love to live in a small town around the English countryside, she divulges; somewhere with space and sky and woods. Keyleth agrees, raising her glass. Percy says, without thinking twice, Yes, I’d probably like that.   If she notices, she doesn’t respond; she offers a fry to Pike and smacks Grog’s hand away from stealing it.   --   Vex wants to go clubbing. She misses clubbing, dancing, that escape of alcohol and pounding beats. Percy shifts next to her, his arms flexing, the muscle prominent underneath; she wants him all over her, the sweat of his body under colored strobe lights. She wants him and she wants to not think about anything else anymore, not Saundor or Syldor and their sharp, cutting words. He smiles shyly and pays the bill before anyone even knows the bill has come.   Vax invites Percy and Keyleth back to their suite to hang out and drink; Vex’s body trembles. As much as she’d love to dance - well, fame has its downsides. Perhaps not tonight. And she’s made it so long without slipping back into her old habits.   Keyleth accepts for them - Percy doesn’t react at all, but he seems to appreciate her enthusiasm; Vex can tell it’s important to him than Keyleth is happy. She finds that overwhelmingly sweet and the sudden urge to fuck it out of him entirely hits her like a gunshot. Pike gives her a knowing look and mouths, I know.   Gilmore’s out with his own friends - that man has contacts everywhere - and they crack open the hard liquor and beer, playing music over the stereo system and talking. Grog and Keyleth, in the showdown of the century, have the shotgunning contest they should’ve had at after party - Pike roots for Grog out of loyalty, to which Vax raises a finger and chants Keyleth’s name even louder; and then--   Keyleth loses by a split second, something Grog is genuinely impressed by, and gives her a high five. Considering his method of drinking involves unhinging his jaw like a snake and widening his throat until he can just pour alcohol down it without swallowing - or at least, that’s how Scanlan describes it - it’s amazing Keyleth finished as closely as she did.   Vax and Scanlan take turns selecting songs, trying to find music that appeals to Percy, who they treat as some sort of toddler, giving him about a minute of each song and asking - very slowly - if he liked it or not, before selecting a new one and doing the same thing all over again.   By the end of it, Percy has a few new artists he’s apparently a fan of - Tunng has a good song, and he’s into the electronica vibe of CHVRCHES; Hozier, he says, sounds like who he’d be if he made music, and then a few classic rock bands - and then people start drifting off one at a time, slowly. Pike smiles apologetically and says, “Being on the road’s just tiring - but you don’t have to leave! Stay, it’s cool, we can sleep through anything.”   “Stay,” Vex says, and so he does.   --   They’re playing music at a softer volume and they’re the only two left.   Vex stands at the window, looking out at the lit-up square below, the recklessness of cars, the people running like little dots on the sidewalk. Percy’s next to her, leaning on the window seat, also staring out. It’s slightly rainy and the clouds hang low.   “I wanted to go clubbing,” she confesses, though she’s not sure what she’s confessing to. “Don’t you ever miss doing things you used to be able to do before you were famous? Things that made you feel...better. Freer.”   “It’s been awhile since I’ve been a commoner,” he responds mildly, sounding sort of like a pompous asshole, but she gets what he means. He’s talking about the accident. Americans love the royal family, so they’ve known about him for ages; she imagines there aren’t many places he’s able to run to for relief and anonymity. “I’ve found comfort in other things. Mechanics.”   “It would,” she says, and nothing else.   “Clubbing, huh?” he repeats, and now he’s looking at her; she shivers without knowing why. “I can’t say I’ve ever been clubbing.”   She smiles, pressing her hands against the glass. “I can’t say that answer surprises me.”   “Am I not the type?”   “Not really, darling, no.” But she’s teasing, tone playful and light. She sees him stand out of the corner of her eye, but he’s facing her, no longer using the scenery as a pretense.   “See,” Percy says, talking about something else entirely, “this is a nice view.”   “We’re on the thirty-second floor,” she points out, not fully understanding. “I think you’re fighting your own argument.”   “Well, not exactly, as the view I’m referencing is in front of me.”   He’s so plainly forthcoming at that moment that it stuns her; it’s his version of flirting, she realizes, and she takes it in--   The light is soft, dim. Keyleth had lit a few candles, because she’s the type to light candles. Percy’s in a plain white t-shirt and black jeans, his hair ruffled and boyish, his stare sincere but bashful. Her phone’s plugged into the sound system on shuffle, and her music is low, slow, gyrating. They’re alone. She wants to devour him, fuck him until she forgets the names of her demons, until he no longer feels the torment of his own.   In a bold move, because it’s two in the morning, because she’s a little drunk, because it’s New York - she takes one of his hands and slides in front of him, pressing him back against the window, his entire body flush to hers.   “So, Percival,” she murmurs, and she’s well aware of how turned on she sounds, “you’ve never danced?”   His eyes flicker like blackness seeps into him; smoke is rising from his skin. The heat burns between them. “Like this?” He says, and she’s pleased to hear his voice shake. “Never.”   She smiles with a dangerous flash of teeth. “Good.”   --   So, what they’re doing is definitely not dancing.   She guides his hands to her hips, knowing he won’t move first without permission; her palms splay against his chest, and she’s humming the melody playing low in her throat. He can feel her breathing, the way her body sticks to him, her chest rising and falling; he’s caught up, overcome--   She sways slowly, almost grinding against him; he bites the inside of his lip on instinct, looking down at her, eyelids heavy. She’s still fucking smirking, and her hands drift up, over his shoulders, around his neck; she finally shifts her gaze up and locks eyes with him, now quietly singing the words - he’s momentarily distracted by it, because how many people get to hear her sing without a stage, and her voice is sultry and gorgeous and hot - and then he comprehends the lyrics--   When you say it like that…   His fingers curl around her hips; she drops her stare to his mouth and continues, “Let me fuck you right back,” and he about faints right there.   “Oh, holy shit,” he breathes out.   “Something wrong, dear?” she asks, and her tone is low and teasing, knowing exactly what she’s doing to him.   But he’s still drunk, too, and reservations aren’t exactly something he has the time or willpower to manage. “This isn’t music to dance to,” he says, and she laughs once, throatily.   “No,” she agrees, still slowly grinding against him. “It’s music to have sex to.”   His mouth is dry and all the flashing city lights are suddenly in the room with them. “I should’ve known,” he says, and pulls her tight against him. The smirk is suddenly gone from her face. “Only you would seduce someone with a song that isn’t even your own.”   They’re too close, it’s too dark, she’s going to fuck him here in a suite with four other sleeping people and he’s going to enjoy it and beg her for more; he cycles through the coming events in his mind and sees absolutely no issue with any of it. He’s already underneath her and she can do whatever she wants to him.   She presses her fingers against his cheek, guiding the tilt of his head, and she leans up--   They hear the unmistakable sound of the door opening and someone’s voice rings from the doorway, “Vex, darling, I know how pretty he is, but unless you’re inviting me to join, perhaps you should drag poor Percival off to somewhere private before you eat him alive, hm?”   --   Fucking Gilmore.   She’s fuming and turned on and it’s a horrible combination - Percy is actively averting his eyes from her, his hands now back against the window seat, holding himself up - and in an almost cruel fit of denial, she slides slowly back onto her feet, pressing her hips carefully against his until he’s again biting his lip, now burning red.   Gilmore heads off to bed, leaving them there, knowing he’s ruined whatever was about to happen in the suite’s living room and satisfied with it. She’s going to have a talk with him tomorrow. Fuck him, that fucking asshole, and fuck Vax for so long ago declaring him enough of family that he shares their rooms.   “Percy.” She needs him to look at her. She needs him addicted to whatever she’s planning next, anxiously awaiting her every move, his nerves standing on the precipice. He carefully glances down at her - he’s restraining himself again, Gods, she hates that, she was so close to unraveling him entirely - and she says dangerously, “This isn’t over.”   He seems almost amused at her tone and choice of words. “Is that a threat?”   “Yes.” Her mouth curls into a half-smirk, a remnant of what they almost did. “I’m going to fuck this sweet, sad boy act out of you. Who are you really, Percival?”   He shivers against her, his lips parting in a harsh inhale, exhale. “At this moment, I’m not sure I even know,” he answers unsteadily, pupils blown wide.   “Good.” She pushes off his chest, grinning broadly. He stands there unmoving, the shock and arousal still filling his veins instead of blood. He stares unblinkingly, swallowing once.   She backs away. “Sleep well,” she says airily, and heads into her room.   --   (She leans against the door and whispers, “Fuck.”   “Vex?” A voice mumbles sleepily. “Is that you?”   “Yes, Pike, it’s me,” she hisses back, waiting for the telltale sound of Percy running from their room, which comes a few moments later when the door slams. Pike sits up in bed; Vex can see her hazy outline.   “What happened?” She asks, rubbing her eyes. “Was that Percy who just left?”   “Yes.”   “Wait.” Pike’s staring in her direction. “Why aren’t you with him?”   Vex grimaces, knocking her head back against the wood. “Gilmore interrupted us.”   The girl gasps. “Like while you were doing him?!”   Vex laughs at that and then sighs, moving to throw herself across the bed. “Gods, Pike, no,” she says, an arm over her forehead. “We were - dancing. Sort of.”   Pike rubs a hand over her stomach comfortingly. “Aw, Vex, it’s okay. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances. I mean, come on, who’s gonna resist you? I would never.”   “Thanks, dear.”   “Anytime.”)   --   “And then she said--” he breaks off, blushing horribly, and then quotes, “‘I’m going to fuck that sweet, sad boy act out of you,’” and Keyleth’s head whips around the curtain, mouth agape, soap still lathered in her hair.   “No way,” she says, shocked and a little appreciative. “Damn, Percy, that’s hot.”   “I know,” he says. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Forgive me for being a little traditional, but I do genuinely like her.”   “And that’s a problem why?” Keyleth asks, disappearing again. “She nailed you, didn’t she? Wow.” She snickers to herself and he hears her repeat, “Sweet, sad boy act…”   “It’s not an act,” he says, mostly faking affrontement. “Am I not sweet?”   “Sure, sure,” Keyleth answers. He hears a bottle hit the floor and a small squeak of surprise before she continues speaking. “You’re nice, Percy, but you come off a lot nicer than you are. You can be cruel and cold when you want to be, or to people you don’t trust - and you don’t trust anyone. You’re...distant, I guess, is the word. From everything.”   He frowns; she’s not wrong there. “I trust you,” he points out, defiant. He hadn’t really viewed it as an act, though, but maybe he’s putting himself on subconsciously. “Semantics.”   “I’m rolling my eyes.”   “Anyway. I’m saying I like her,” he says again. “What if she’s merely - into the idea of sleeping with me and that’s it?”   Keyleth’s head pokes out of the curtain again. “Percy,” she says exasperatedly, “have you even looked at Vex? She could have anyone she wants; she’s like, beautiful. Some guy once threw a five-thousand dollar engagement ring on stage and proposed to her. She said no and kept the ring. Hell,” Keyleth adds as an afterthought and ignoring Percy’s jaw on the floor, “I’d date Vex.”   “Stick to Vax,” Percy says, still recovering from the bizarrely sexy idea of Vex rejecting some man and keeping his money but somehow wanting Percy. “I can’t compete with you.”   Keyleth laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, shutting the water off, “she’s only got eyes for you anyway.”   Percy resumes washing his face. “Well,” he says, and that’s really all there is to it.     --   Gilmore forbids them from going to boozy brunch - “It’s meant for Sundays,” he reasons with them, “and you’ve a show tonight,” - so they resort to normal brunch, though Grog and Pike are determined to sneak a mimosa; drinking always cures his hangovers and Pike’s desperately in need of relief for hers. Keyleth and Percy meet them in the lobby, Percy wearing sunglasses and looking a little more disheveled than usual, whereas Keyleth--   “Fuck,” Vex whispers to Vax, “does she always look this flawless? What the fuck, honestly.”   “Keyleth, you are hot,” Grog says randomly from behind them, and Vax bumps his arm.   “Don’t objectify women, Grog, just tell her she looks nice,” he instructs, and Grog glances at her apologetically.   “Oh, sorry,” he says genuinely. “You look real nice, Keyleth.”   She laughs good-naturedly. “Thanks, Grog, you look pretty handsome yourself.”   “She called me handsome,” he murmurs to Pike, his smile huge; she pats his arm and nods.   “Competition,” Vex hisses at Vax again, grinning. So, Keyleth isn’t the most charismatic of people, but something about her is undeniably entrancing; she’s not just beautiful. She’s the most honest person he’s ever met; she doesn’t care about her image because she’s intrinsically so good it doesn’t even occur to her that she might be projecting the wrong one. There’s no way he’s letting go of that after years and years of everyone expecting something of him.   “Kiki,” he says, falling into stride next to her; she links arms with him automatically and he turns to quickly stick his tongue out at Vex - who now, of course, only has eyes for Percy.   Whatever; more material for him, at least. If she’s going to tease him endlessly, she’s going to get it back twice as good.   Keyleth smiles at him and says, “I had a great time last night. Percy and I never go out like that. It’s cool to have such a big group of people.”   “They’re family,” Vax responds and shrugs. “It was fun to have you with us - we see each other every day, you know, so...I liked having you there.”   “Yeah?” she asks nervously, as if she really needs the statement reconfirmed.   “I like having you here now,” he tells her, his blood swirling around his heart at the sight of her slight blush. “Honestly, Keyleth, I do.”   “I’m happy to hear that,” is all she says, her eyes solidly watching the street ahead, but her fingers clutch his arm a little tighter.   --   (“Percival,” Vex greets warmly as he approaches, Keyleth now preoccupying her brother. “And how are we this morning?”   He takes his sunglasses off, wincing slightly at the light. “I’ve been better.”   Her lips twist up; her eyes are hungry and dark. She traps him like a snare. His heart thumps in his chest, his ribcage rattling.   He wants to fuck the smirk off of her face. So, maybe she’s a little right about him.)   --   Grog and Pike order mimosas before Gilmore can stop them; he waves a hand as if to say, it’s your head. They high-five across the table. Keyleth laughs and absorbs Pike in conversation about where she learned to play piano; Vax just stares, nodding along, contributing here and there but mostly content to watch; finally she turns the question on him, and he says, “I learned it to impress you,” but he’s grinning, a little snarky.   She takes it in stride. “Shut up, no you didn’t,” she huffs, but she’s smiling. “Tell me the truth.”   Ah, the truth, well--   “My mother was very musically inclined,” Vax says, surprising even himself at his honesty. Vex quiets, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. Grog, Scanlan, and Pike are now involved in a discussion on breakfast burritos and where to draw the line on ingredients, and don’t pay any attention. “Fortunately, it was a skill she passed onto us.”   “That’s nice that you have that now,” Keyleth says, and reveals herself to be more perceptive than they’d previously thought when she adds, “It’s nice to have something that keeps the people you love alive.”   It’s almost tactless - they’re at brunch and it isn’t information Vax had quite gotten around to divulging - but she isn’t fully speaking about them and their mother, and it’s what calms him, what keeps Vex from snapping. Loss can recognize loss, and Keyleth’s far-off look, her gentle, sad smile…   “You understand,” Vex states, seeking confirmation before being open; it’s not a topic the twins are normally forthcoming about.   “My mother left when I was young,” Keyleth says, very matter-of-fact. “She’s been declared dead - it’s been so long. She left for a business trip and she never came back.” Off of their stunned looks, she rectifies, “Oh, but not like that! Not like she - ran off, or something. It was supposed to be a week-long work trip; she used to take them all the time. That’s, ah…” she wrings her hands nervously. “That’s all. So I just meant - I know how you feel.”   Vax puts his fingers over hers, intertwining them. “Thanks, Kiki. And we’re sorry.”   She sort of shrugs uncomfortably, pressing on, locking eyes with Percy--   “Well,” the boy suddenly says off-handedly, leaning back, “almost my whole family is dead, so I’m not one for sympathy.”   Vex lets out a startled laugh and looks horrified; she covers her mouth hurriedly, but Keyleth giggles openly. Percy’s mouth is in a wry half-smirk.   “You can laugh,” he says, and his head falls against the booth, his eyes fluttering closed. “It’s already going to hurt forever, so you might as well laugh when it strikes you.”   Somewhere on the other end of the table, Grog is pouring an entire bottle of hot sauce on his burrito and Scanlan’s eating a raw chili pepper for a challenge; Pike is grinning while Gilmore shakes his head. Vex says, “We all have our crosses to bear, I suppose.”   “I’m not surprised.” Percy’s head tilts, following Vex’s stare. “Tortured artists. It’s so predictable it’s almost boring.”   Vax raises his glass. “Cheers, Percival.”   He supposes in some ways, it truly is the perfect phrase to describe what they are.   --   (They go to Central Park for Keyleth, who Vex is pretty sure may actually die if she’s away from nature for too long, and lounge around Sheep Meadow until they start getting recognized. It doesn’t help that Pike keeps Snapping, either, so everyone in the Manhattan area definitely knows where they are. They’re careful not to post anything of the actual famous actors until they’ve left, though, in order to deter the paparazzi, who don’t care for indie bands as much.   Vex takes a pic of Percy as he drifts off under the sun for a little while, and Keyleth says, “He didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” with a cute grin that Vex is sure is supposed to be a smirk.   Vex shows her how it’s really done and answers, “I can’t imagine why.”)   --   The show starts at eight, with a band Percy’s never heard of (shocker) opening for them called Chroma Conclave. It’s the first night of their leg of the tour - they’ll be opening for another month of shows - and Vex tells him privately that they actually hate the band’s music, but it’s a publicity thing and they can’t do anything to stop it. He’s familiar with the act of having to play nice with difficult talent.   He and Keyleth are upstairs in the VIP area - it’s tables and bar service looking down on the stage - and they get a few ciders and relax for the opening act, not paying too much attention. Internally, he agrees with Vex: they’re awful, more like metal than rock, but the crowd seems to be into it to a degree, at least. He watches fans hover around the merch table and thinks about buying a shirt as a joke; Keyleth’s almost definitely going to do it seriously.   By the time their band is about to take the stage, Keyleth’s had three ciders and she’s buzzing; Percy’s trying to keep a leveler head. The lights go out, the crowd screams, the neon signs flash; in the chaos of it all he sees them quietly settle into their instruments before--   Vex’s voice, as beautiful and sexy as it was when it was only him and her the night before comes echoing around his skull; he recognizes it immediately as their second single - well, I’ve got a story about how you left me for dead, I told you I loved you and never saw you again, now when I dream about you I hear it’s all in your head, all in your head.     “Babe, you’ve got me thinking I’m fucking crazy,” he sings under his breath, because he can’t help himself, because she’s entrancing and their music is good. Fortunately Keyleth is doing the same thing, only she’s singing all of the words and at a much louder volume.   Scanlan harmonizes with her nicely, subtly, not taking the song away from her but enhancing it - the title is Demons and he adds a haunting quality to it, like a dark vibration underneath the edges.   And then Percy realizes she’s playing the bass.   He is inexplicably, instantaneously turned on - watching her fingers move, her lips curving around the words, the way she holds the melody in her mouth - her eyes dart up, searching for his, and he sees her smile flicker. Maybe it’s only a trick of the light.   Keyleth turns toward him and screams, “She is so fucking hot!”   Finally letting go, he answers “I know” with a smile, and it’s the lightest Keyleth has seen him in years.   --   (The show is electric; the crowd can’t get enough and neither can Vex. She loves this. She loves the bright lights and the fans singing and the music burning up her skin; Vax is shredding next to her and Grog’s hammering the drums and Pike’s holding them all together, her notes a solid through-line.   And Percy - through the blinding flashes she finds his white hair and his unrestrained smile, Keyleth’s arm around his shoulders--   I’m not running out of time, babe, and you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna be mine.   She’s singing to him now, but one day soon, she won’t need to.)   --   They head backstage just before the end of the set to avoid the crowd, still wrapped up in the band’s final song; Keyleth sways on her feet and keeps singing, watching from the wings. Percy’s drawn more to technique from this angle - the deftness of Scanlan’s fingers on the guitar (he’s picked up about four different instruments tonight so far), the way Pike plays with her eyes closed, Grog’s ferocity fading and swelling in beat with the music - they’re well-trained, incredibly in sync with each other. It’s a pleasure just to witness.   The song ends, the crowd screams, the room is suddenly drenched in darkness - the band stumbles their way to the wings through the dimness of the stage, tripping over each other and laughing; Keyleth cheers with the rest of the fans as the lights flash on again for the encore, bright neon colors. Vax finds her eyes amidst the chaos, as if she’s the pull to a compass, and as he gets closer she yells, “Vax, that was ama--” before he takes her face in his hands and kisses her.   The rest of the band stops in their tracks, the roar of the crowd quieting to a dull hum in their ears at the sight in front of them; Vex’s lips are parted in a very subtle jaw-drop, and Percy can only stare, caught up in a moment that isn’t his but could be--   Vex’s lips are parted, and Percy can only stare; what if she had seen him first, what if she were standing in front of him smiling, disheveled, sweating after a show and the pressure of burning stage lights; what if he were healthier, assured, better--   --   (Keyleth has never been kissed like this in her entire life - she’s never even been kissed, not really, only for work or projects or an elementary-school dare - the softness and the intensity of it overwhelms her, his palms cupping her cheeks, her fingers automatically reaching up to curl around his wrists--   He pulls away, his eyes shining, his smile gentle and apologetic; his hands stroke down her jaw, her neck. He says, You know I’m in love with you, right?   She can only look on, dazed, buzzing, those neon lights filling up her heart and her skin is where she wants him to write his songs; she licks her lips and tastes salt, electricity, copper, music. She doesn’t speak. He backs away from her, his arms dropping, and suddenly she’s missing something she wasn’t missing before.)   --   Vex is hit with the truth.   Vax kisses Keyleth and it’s so uncomplicated; he loves her, he’s in love with her, he’s been in love with her. He doesn’t think twice, he doesn’t put himself on, he doesn’t try to be anybody he isn’t to make himself worthy of giving love, or receiving love. It’s so easy and pure and genuine and nothing like her, but like all the things she wishes she could be.   She meets Percy’s eyes and sees the longing in him, clouded over with a self-doubt she recognizes all too well. He must notice the mirror in her, as well, because after a moment he gives her a sad, resigned sort of smile.   There is nothing uncomplicated about her and Percy.   --   “I’m sorry.” Vax apologizes immediately after the encore. Well, he’s not, but he is. He should have asked, or set the mood a little better, or - anything, really. “Do you think we can go and - talk, somewhere?”   Keyleth stutters over herself, seeming a bit like a frightened wild animal, but not in a caged or trapped way - just an inexperienced one. She squeaks out, “Sure,” and her attention is far too occupied to even remember Percy exists.   Vax leads her into one of the now-empty rooms backstage, and before she can get another word out, he picks up a gift bag from the couch and extends it to her.   “I actually had plans,” he says, abashed. “I was going to give you that--” That happens to be a collection of every band shirt they’d had on sale that night, and a few very early designs that aren’t in production anymore, “--and hopefully charm you with a joke about how you may be our biggest fan, but I’m yours. No competition.”   She skids her teeth across her bottom lip, digging in. Her cheeks are flushed and red, her blood on high. She’s never done this before. “I, uh--”   “You don’t have to say anything.” Vax’s eyes drop. “I shouldn’t have cornered you the way I did. I was just - overwhelmed, seeing you standing there, so happy and excited and - I don’t know. You were too beautiful.”   “Okay, stop,” she breathes out, shaking with the hammering of her heart; he’s always felt so far away to her, but here he is now, plain and forthcoming and baring his soul in front of her. “You - look, I’m just - I’m not good at this.”   “I know.” He keeps a careful distance from her. “It’s okay, Kiki.”   She says, “I do like you.” There’s no reason not to confess. “I’m not used to - feeling this way about...people. It’s…” She struggles for meaning, nervously playing with a ring on her finger. “It’s just different, and I don’t know what to do, but I do like you.”   “Do you want time?” he says, clinging to the spark of hope she’s given him. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I’d never...push you into something you weren’t ready for. You must know how important you are to me, Keyleth.”   She steps forward, reaching for his hand, and presses a delicate kiss to his cheek; he resists the urge to hold onto her and she resists the urge to ask him to.   “Yeah,” she whispers. “A little time.”     -- (Years from now, Keyleth will look back and remember Vax’s grin under the glow of the stage lights, her fingers burning their prints into his back, his lips against hers with an intimacy far too deep for her to comprehend at the time; he’ll laugh into her hair, curled next to her in bed, and say Yeah, you totally loved me.)   --   They trudge back upstairs to the bar and they all get fucked up; Vax and Keyleth keep a polite distance apart, but not uncomfortably so. Vex says she needs the image of them kissing erased from her brain, but internally she hears Saundor’s voice, you’re selfish, Vex’ahlia, and care for nobody but yourself, reckless with no regard for the wellbeing of others; Percy sits next to Pike and answers questions dutifully about his upcoming films, who he’s liked acting with the most, who’s been the biggest asshole, and, (secretly), who’s his favorite member of the band.   She winks, and he rolls his eyes; “Oh, you know.”   Vex takes another shot. He’s not sure if she’d heard or not.   --   They’re all hammered by the time they return to the hotel, but the band’s wired as they always are after a show and Keyleth’s energy is endless; none of them want the night to end. Grog herds them back up the suite, laughing as they stumble and trip over each other, and Percy rationalizes that it must be Grog’s size keeping him upright, certainly not that the rest of them are lightweights. Grog grins but keeps his mouth shut, humoring him.   Scanlan starts some sort of card game that has them all screaming over each other - Percy is the first to be out, followed by Vex, who curses at the rest of them for show - but when she gets up from the table, Percy spots that shadow of sadness again, that flimsy mask. She catches his eye and she knows.   She approaches him and says quietly, “Feel like stepping out on the balcony for a bit?”   He nods once and follows her out. Nobody else pays them any mind, too absorbed in their game; as he slides the glass door closed behind him, he hears Pike scream, “You fucking cheater, Scanlan!”   The air is cool and damp; Vex leans against the railing and sags heavily, finally allowing the tension she’s been carrying to hold its full weight. She looks exhausted. She doesn’t glance at him when she says, “We need to talk.”   “Yes.” Percy’s voice is almost lost among the clouds. “We do.”   “You saw it too,” she states, keeping her eyes trained on the flashing lights below. “How...how simple it was.”   “I did,” Percy says. “But for what it’s worth, I never thought this would be simple.”   She smiles without substance, like the skeleton of a feeling. “No?”   “Vex, look at me,” he points out tiredly, running a hand through his hair. “I come with a lot of baggage.”   “So do I.” She licks her lips, pausing. “I thought it was just me. When we started this. I thought it was just me.”   The silence settles over them; everything is muted from where they are, the colors, the bright lights, the honking horns. He curls his fingers around the railing and squeezes. “Maybe we should try to be honest with one another.” It’s an uncomfortable topic to bridge. He attempts a semblance of humor. “I know you saw right through me.”   “I recognized the patterns, yes,” she says.   “I’m barely hanging on,” he continues blithely, shutting down the part of his voice that conveys any depth to true emotion. It’s difficult enough as it is. “I’m being treated. I spent a lot of time being nothing, being everything, being whatever wasn’t me with this life. I’m working on it.”   “That’s a good start,” she says, and crooks her head towards him without meeting his eyes like a silent acceptance, “because I rather like you. The you underneath all of this. And I’m - I’ve had a long recovery. Having. A long recovery.”   “I almost died,” he drops point-blank.   Vex waits a moment, staring at the whiteness of Percy’s knuckles, the tensity of his muscles coiling like a spring beneath his skin. “I almost died,” she echoes back, the carefree shouting of her friends behind her like a sick soundtrack to the tragedy of their lives.   He turns toward her, suddenly releasing himself. “What?”   “Surely you don’t believe you’ve the monopoly on horror stories,” she says wryly, and he flushes.   “That’s not what I meant, of course,” he responds politely. “Near-death experiences are rare.”   She leans forward onto her elbows, hunched further over the railing. A year and a half ago, she might have thrown herself off of it. “I had a boyfriend,” she says, but the sound coats itself against her throat when she tries to explain further, like rubbing sand between her palms, coarse and raw.   He seems to understand just fine. “Oh,” he says quietly.   “I’m trying, too,” she says, and finally stands tall, facing him straight on. He isn’t surprised by the sudden feverishness, but proud, almost. “I’m this now because I couldn’t be for so long. I think it’s the truth. I want to believe I’m putting on the truth, but sometimes I remember what I was like, and I don’t know.”   “You aren’t what you were made into,” Percy says, as if he’s reading her thoughts and pulling out exactly the right words to tell her in response. “It’s possible to have spent as long as you did as someone perceived to be without strength, but that doesn’t mean you don’t possess it now, Vex’ahlia. Or even then.”   “How can you be so sure?” she asks, and the intensity lights up the space between them, the focal point of lightning. He reaches up and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, smiling kindly, and oh, yes, this is him, he’s here, finally making an appearance, Percy laying himself bare for her.   “You must have suffered a great deal and for a very long time,” he says plainly, softly. “Sometimes having the strength to survive is enough, even if you don’t have the strength to fight back.”   She feels a stinging in the corners of her eyes, the landscape suddenly swirling in front of her, lights blurry and out of focus. Her fingers are suddenly wrapped around the fabric of his sweater, clutching at his chest. “Yeah?”   “Let us agree that the nature of our shared experiences leaves us unable to lie to one another,” he continues, seemingly unconcerned about her desperate grasp on him. “I am seeing the truth of you. And I am telling you the truth. You are not as in conflict with yourself as you believe.”   I love you, she could say; she could say it now and somewhere in her heart she’d mean it, because Percy is right; the two of them recognize each other, buried deep underneath, like souls intertwined. I love you, she could say, but she doesn’t.   Neither of them realize the noise inside has quieted to a dull hum. His hand moves from her hair to her cheek, thumb wiping underneath her eye. She says, “You must know this doesn’t solely apply to me.” Her grip relaxes very slightly; she doesn’t want to ruin his sweater. “Being agreeable and polite and invisible until you have the opportunity to express emotion through someone else - I won’t patronize you as if you don’t know that isn’t healthy.” His mouth quirks into a sly grin at her accurate interpretation of his outward-facing persona. “You aren’t a ‘thing’ without feelings, Percy. You aren’t a tool to be used, or a vase, or any other lifeless, empty object. You’ve suffered a long time and a very great deal.”   He’s as intoxicated by her words as she is by his; it’s addicting, the truth, especially when it’s one you’ve been too afraid to believe yourself. He exhales slowly and leans in, not for a kiss but for support, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes are shut; she can feel his heart pounding. She murmurs, “I know how difficult it is to open yourself up again. To give yourself up to someone else. But I can handle it. You’re not a burden.”   “I’m afraid,” he breathes out, and God, they’re burning each other up with the thrill and novelty of understanding. “I’m afraid I’m - irrevocably damaged, or twisted. I don’t want to drag you into myself. I won’t do that to you.”   “That’s no way to heal,” she says, pulling back slightly to stare him in the eye. “Haven’t we established our inability to lie to one another? I have demons, too, and that means I can see yours for what they are, just as you see mine. Let me talk you out of them when needed. Let me scare them off.”   The look in his eyes is unbearably fond, but his voice wavers, uncertain and unused to the concept of hope. “And that’s not - that isn’t too much for you?”   The concrete balcony feels so firm beneath her feet she’s convinced she’s connected to the earth below, the dirt and mantle and core steadying her in place. She says, her spine straight, “It’s simpler to be strong for other people, don’t you agree?”   “I do,” he answers. His hands are now on her hips, the small of her back. They’re pressed together not out of want but out of necessity.   “We’ll find each other,” she says, low and tender. “We have to start somewhere.”   “I can start here,” Percy says, and presses a faint, delicate kiss to Vex’s forehead, before gathering her in his arms and holding her there.   --   (Keyleth smiles to herself, eyes downcast and averted. They’re all watching and pretending they aren’t. Vax, sitting at her side, doesn’t seem to know what to make of the display; she senses the war in him.   “Finally,” she says quietly, before he can make up his mind.   He glances over at her, corners of his mouth pulled down slightly, but the rest of his expression remains unguarded. “Is this a good thing?” he asks her bluntly. “She’s my sister. I need honesty.”   “I can’t speak for Vex,” Keyleth begins carefully, not wanting to set off any alarm bells, “but Percy’s...better than he used to be. When I first met him, he rarely even smiled, like he’d forgotten how. I mean - you’ve heard his story, right? So, I’m not gonna say that he isn’t without flaws, but I think…” she pauses to weigh her words in her mouth; tact isn’t something that comes naturally to her. “I think he could use someone else, you know? Someone who isn’t me. And someone exactly like her.”   Vax doesn’t answer her yet, still subtly watching them out on the balcony. It’s starting to rain and they’re both facing out at the city, buried in each other, unaware of the conversation taking place indoors. Keyleth tries, one last time, by saying, “I feel like...Vex can understand him. Understand what he’s been through. Or at least some of the - emotion, I guess, behind it.”   At that, Vax does look at her, eyebrows raised in a mild sort of surprise. “What makes you think that?”   Keyleth shrugs, unable to formulate a concrete example. “Am I wrong?” she asks instead.   Vax considers her for a moment, and then drops his head, as if he’s invaded a privacy for a little too long and is finally recognizing it. “No,” he says. “No, you’re not wrong.”   “Percy seems nice,” Pike adds, as if the rest of them have been given an entryway into the conversation. “He’s sad, but he’s nice. And, come on - when was the last time Vex has shown an interest in anyone? Let her have this.”   “Or do you not trust her judgment?” Scanlan adds, if not gracefully than at least purposefully.   Vax loosens up a little, taking into account his own motivations, and says, “I won’t deny that I’m wary of it, but…” He glances back to the girl next to him, beautiful and kind and good. “I trust you, Keyleth. I trust that you can see things objectively, for what they are.”   For some unknown reason, and one that endears her to him all the more, she blushes intensely at the compliment as if he’s just kissed her in a room full of prying eyes.)   --   They never notice that the shouting had stopped, because by the time Percy and Vex reenter, it’s started again. She’s wearing his sweater and her eyes are the faintest hint of red. Nobody comments on it, looking up as though they’d barely noticed the two were gone.   “Last game of the night,” Grog yells. “The two of you in, or what?”   Percy plops down on Keyleth’s other side, Vex beside him. “Deal us in,” he says. “I’m feeling lucky.”   --   They say goodbye the next day, later in the morning in the lobby, after a night of everybody once again sleeping in their own beds. Vax pulls Keyleth to him and she sinks into it because she doesn’t know how not to; whether she’s ready to face it or not, there’s something in her that longs for this, the closeness, the certainty.   Vex is again wearing his sweater; she smiles and winks flirtatiously up at him when he notices, and he rolls his eyes, feigning aloofness. He’s not getting it back, and he comes to terms with it quickly, more than enamored with the idea of Vex casually wearing his clothes.   They don’t hug. He stands in front of her, staring, overwhelmed with the events of the previous night, finding nothing left in him to say. She seems to understand wordlessly and reaches up, ruffling his hair with her hand like he’s an embarrassed young boy in need of validation, acceptance.   She says, “Hang in there, Percival. You’re doing great.”   It’s enough.   --   radiance against @thebriarwoods · 26m .@keylethoftheair are we all crazy or were you and percival hanging out with vox machina all weekend!?   Keyleth @keylethoftheair · 15m Replying to @thebriarwoods We were! They’ve been my favorite band since their debut and we finally got to see them play! We had such an awesome time!! Thanks @imvaxthatsvex @imvexthatsvax @themeatman @idliketorage @monstah Percival @percivalderolo · 12m Replying to @thebriarwoods @keylethoftheair and 5 others This is me officially tweeting my agreeance of the above statement   vax’ahlia @imvaxthatsvex · 10m Replying to @percivalderolo @keylethoftheair and 5 others percy, do u LIKE us? is that what ur saying??? u LIKE us??   vex’ildan @imvexthatsvax · 9m Replying to @imvaxthatsvex @percivalderolo and 5 others is that true percival? you like us? vax i think he liiiikes us…...   Percival @percivalderolo · 7m Replying to @imvexthatsvax @imvaxthatsvex and 5 others You’re both ridiculous. Obviously I only like Grog.   grog loves beer @idliketorage · 5m Replying to @percivalderolo @imvexthatsvax and 5 others rite answer mate   Burt Reynolds @themeatman · 2m Replying to @idliketorage @imvexthatsvax and 5 others hey   it’s me pike!!! @monstah · 2m Replying to @idliketorage @imvexthatsvax and 5 others Hey   Percival @percivalderolo · 33s Replying to @themeatman @monstah and 5 others You’re both great too.   it’s me pike!!! @monstah · 2s Replying to @percivalderolo @themeatman and 5 others Thnx!!! - from me n scanlan   --   Considering the paparazzi didn’t catch many pictures of them and they’d been seen with the entire band, not a lot of speculation arises from their initial meeting. But neither Percy nor Keyleth expect the silence to last - the twins aren’t exactly quiet about their interests; especially not Vax, who’d openly hand over his heart to Keyleth at any given moment, if only she were to ask him for it.   All Percy’s aware of on that topic is that whatever Keyleth-and-Vax are, it’s definitely something. They’re progressing, and though it may be slow, it’ll be forever when it happens. He can sense it in her, her heart unfolding like a flower. He knows she loves him, and Vax isn’t pushing her to go anywhere she isn’t ready to. Percy can’t think of anyone better for Keyleth, or anyone who cares as deeply for her.   He hears them, sometimes, through the walls of their shared apartment in Atlanta; Keyleth’s voice has taken on its own tone for Vax specifically, one so painfully tender he feels invasive just listening to it even without being able to make out the words.   (They like to sit on Hangouts or Facetime and just enjoy each other’s company. He’ll work on a song and she’ll practice lines. It’s nice, he says, not to feel so alone.   “You have a twin,” Keyleth points out, smiling.   “Well, that’s different,” he says. “You calm me. Like my soul’s been put at ease.”   Her cheeks burn pink and he doesn’t expand on the thought. She understands him just fine.)   Percy and Vex, on the other hand--   “I’m so fucking bored,” Vex complains to him over the phone; his cell is sitting on the counter on speaker as he cooks himself and Keyleth dinner. “I wish we could just fly everywhere rather than drive.”   “Why can’t you?” he asks, measuring out a teaspoon of salt, dumping it into the pot of water boiling on the stove.   “It’s not worth it,” she explains idly, rustling around on the other end. “With all of our equipment and shit - that’s saved for international tours. We’ll take a few flights here and there, depending on the distance, but it’s mostly driving.” She snickers suddenly. “I bet Keyleth would love it.”   Percy grins in response. “Most definitely,” he says, beginning to chop a tomato. “How much longer d’you have?”   “On this tour?” The rustling ceases; Percy imagines her still, biting her lip and thinking. “Two months. And you?”   Percy pauses for the briefest of moments, also attempting to calculate. “Three weeks on location - so into mid-May - and close to another month back home in the studio.”   Vex hums. “I’ve been thinking...as we’re in Atlanta next week, any chance you can give your biggest fans a set tour?”   He laughs at the sly edge of her voice, like she’s fooling him somehow, or being particularly clever. “I’ll see what I can do.”   “Lovely, darling, thank you.”   He sighs at the smugness lining her tone. “Oh,” he says mildly, dumping the cut tomatoes in a bowl, “as if I could ever refuse you.”   --   Filming is unpredictable, and so is traffic, so the band doesn’t get to set until late afternoon when they’re well into a scene. Percy relieves a poor, intimidated intern of them at the entrance to the soundstage and leads them quietly to where the assistant director is sitting under what looks like a type of tent, two large screens in front her, and on them--   “Woah,” Grog whispers, pointing. “Look at Keyleth. She looks awesome.”   Keyleth is towards the right of the shot, standing in what looks like a kind of dungeon, or a castle, and she’s stunning. Otherworldly. She’s wearing a green, loosely-fitting dress that appears as if she created it from the forest itself, a gorgeous mantle over her shoulders that unfolds into almost a cloak of leaves, and a circlet on which a pair of antlers seem to sprout from. She’s carrying a staff and laughing at something with an older, sickly looking woman next to her as a man fixes her make-up.   “My, my,” Vex says, examining Percy’s getup - he’s in a royal blue coat with some sort of puffy necktie and a vest over a white button-down shirt with slacks, and very nice boots. “Don’t you look dashing.”   “We’re between shots,” Percy says, rolling his eyes. “They’re getting one last angle on her and then she’ll have a moment to greet you while they set up the next scene. She’s actually just past the tent, here. If you take a quick glance around, you can see her - but it may be best if she’s not aware you’re here yet.”   “Cool,” Pike says, enthralled, clutching onto Grog’s arm. “Percy, dude, this is amazing, thank you so much--”   “Of course,” he says, smiling kindly at her, and then a hush falls over the set.   “Ladies,” they hear the director call in a thick English accent, “let’s pull ourselves together. Nearly there, nearly there. Marks, please.” Keyleth reigns it in, and they’re content to watch her on the screen in front of them. “And...action!”   Her face contorts, vicious, angry, terrifying; it’s an expression none of them, aside from Percy, have ever seen on her before and not one she would wear naturally. Her muscles flex under her skin, pulled taut, a snake ready to strike. The older woman is circling around her slowly, a cruel curve to her smile and a deadly look in her eyes.   “...Pathetic,” the woman whispers bitterly. “All this trouble and not a thing to show for it. You wouldn’t have even gotten this far if not for your...remarkable friend. Is this the truth of you, my darling? That you are a weak and powerless thing who only knows how to endanger the lives of those who help her?”   “Enough,” Keyleth says, low and dangerous, sounding nothing like herself. Vex shivers, trained on the woman, her dialogue echoing around Vex’s skull in someone else’s voice.   “You’re nothing.” The words ring in the air; it’s as if a chill moves swiftly through the set. “You’ve come to me with no help, no resources, no convincing arguments. You lack even words in this moment, and it is profoundly embarrassing. You’re a dishonor to yourself, and to those who died for you.” The woman curls her mouth hideously, pulling at her skin. “At least allow me to repay them by forcing you to suffer the way they did - slowly, without grace, without dignity. Let them hear you scream, like the others before you. Like your own mother.”   “I will not die,” Keyleth hisses, flooding her veins with fire, and suddenly they’re struck with the sense that Keyleth’s character has hit her breaking point. “Repay them, yes, I will - but not with my blood. With yours!”   And her hands whips out with more agility than they’d thought possible from her, wrapping around the woman’s throat, and hoisting her into the air, one-handed.   Percy quickly and quietly claps a hand over Grog’s mouth to stop his exclamation, as he hadn’t realized the other woman was on wires. Keyleth looks as if she’s exerting a tremendous amount of force, which they know cannot be true, but that’s the magic of cinema, Vex thinks, entranced by the display.   “Your girlfriend is way cooler than you,” she leans over and whispers in Vax’s ear, trying to ignore the ghosts. He smacks her away, but he’s smiling.   --   Keyleth almost stabs him with her antlers, which a crew member then pries off of her in a panic, fearful of the potential lawsuit.     “Sorry, sorry!” she says again, inspecting him for damage. “God, I was just so excited to see you, I’m so sorry, I always forget they’re basically weapons--”   “You could’ve killed him,” Scanlan says dramatically, and Vax snorts loudly.   “Kiki, it’s fine, honestly,” he tells her, taking her hand before it can reach him again. “You didn’t even scratch me. No harm done.”   She smiles brightly, allowing their joined hands to come to rest. “I’m glad you’re here,” she says, and then shifts her gaze to each of them. “All of you.”   “Are you?” Percy asks dryly upon his return from craft services, handing Vex a plate of grapes and cheese. “You won’t be after the news I just received.”   The party turns to look at him; Vex raises an eyebrow, the grapes in her mouth making her look like a chipmunk with half a full cheek. Keyleth blinks owlishly. “What?”   “Change of order, to put it lightly,” Percy says. “We’re filming the scene near the end where - erm, where you...overdo it?” He’s trying not to give it away. “Where I have to step in and help you. We were supposed to start tomorrow with it, but the weather forecast isn’t great.”   She stares at him for half a second longer before it clicks, and then her skin flushes bright red as if she’s boiling herself in water. She glances back to Vax and squeaks out, “Well, thanks for visiting!”   “Keyleth, Percival!” a voice calls. “Ten minutes!”   Percy grins devilishly. Keyleth is now the color of a sunburn.   “Well, obviously, we have to stay,” Grog points out logically, “because she wants us to leave so badly. Means it must be good, right?”   “Are you guys gonna fuck or something?” Scanlan asks bluntly. “I’m pretty sure that storyline wasn’t set up very well in the first one, if so.”   Percy actually laughs, and it’s genuine, unashamed and free. “No, no, we’re not going that far.”   “‘That far’...” the twins quote at the same time, staring between them ominously.   “Um,” Keyleth says, and then turns and runs away as fast she can in costume.   Percy only snickers harder, and says, “Go ahead and stick around. Once it starts, it won’t matter, anyway. She’s a professional.”   --   (So, Percy and Keyleth have to kiss.   Vex is nearly on the floor in hysterics; Vax is torn between utter amusement and a weird fit of jealousy. Vex, who’s never kissed Percy, has nothing to be jealous of, something she doesn’t mind rubbing in.   “I don’t know what I’m missing out on, you see?” she says, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I can truly enjoy this moment. Oh, I can’t wait.”   “You’ll probably be dating him by the time this film comes out,” Vax says snidely, not willing to lose this one. “And then you’ll go the premiere and watch them kiss in high definition and surround sound. We’ll see who’s laughing then.”   Vex stops, staring off into the distance with an expression equal parts disgust, fear, apprehension, and longing.   “Yeah,” Vax says. “That’s what I thought.”)   --   It’s not actually that bad - it isn’t a romantic kiss; it’s a desperate one. Keyleth’s character is on the brink of destroying herself in order to bring about justice, or revenge, and she doesn’t care if she survives or not - misguided and grieving, she imagines herself to be just as bad as her enemies. But Percy’s character can see through the smoke and mirrors, the manipulation and ego, and when reason and logic and every other call to her soul fails, he kisses her.   It’s quite beautiful, and Pike and Grog find themselves oddly emotional even without full context; they keep patting each other and wiping their eyes.   The band watches the two of them really act for this, not behind the tent through the screens. In-person, they’re even more stunning and gripping, their transformations almost unbelievable to witness.   Vex has never seen this much unbridled emotion from Percy since she’s known him, and she recognizes again how spot-on her own interpretation of him had been. This is his outlet for feeling, for everything he can’t bear to keep within himself.   “I know you,” he’s saying. “You’ll trust her over me? At the end of everything, you won’t even allow yourself the final courtesy of believing a single thing I say about you? After what we’ve done for each other, after all this time and torture--”   “You want me to live,” Keyleth says in response, lost and heartbroken. “That’s your priority, but it isn’t mine - I won’t sacrifice anyone else! Let it end with me! Please, let it end with me!”   Whatever’s happening will be inserted as a special effect, but Keyleth mimes some exertion of power, and suddenly they watch one of Percy’s hands tangle in her hair and the other wrap around her waist, and he’s pulling her in close, pressing his lips desperately and painfully against hers. After a moment of her still and unmoving, her arms fall slowly and her fingers curl around his shoulders, and when he releases her his tears glimmer in the light.   “It won’t end with you,” he murmurs. “I won’t let you do this. I’ll die with you before I allow this to happen. This blood is not on your hands. Don’t spill your own.”   “Cut! We’ll cut there,” the director shouts, and walks over to give the two of them a few notes.   There’s a loud noise, a bit like a cross between a sneeze and a cannon. “You really are twins,” Grog guffaws at Vax and Vex, standing there with identical expressions of bafflement on their faces, their mouths hanging open. Percy and Keyleth are now laughing at a joke their make-up artist has cracked, as if the emotion of the scene was nothing but a quick interruption of their normal dynamic.   “I’m feeling like,” Vax begins, “I want to kiss Keyleth.”   “I’m feeling like I want you to shut up,” Vex responds stupidly, still dazed.   Percy finds her eyes and winks.   --   (Percy and Keyleth have to do multiple takes of it before they’re granted enough of a break to give the band a proper tour, but Vex and Vax decide once is enough, and hole themselves up in Keyleth’s trailer until they’re finished with it. Vax sits on the couch and doesn’t pry, but Vex pokes around, oddly charmed by the decoration. Keyleth’s got a windowsill of succulents and various gifts from fans plastered to her mirror, and in between, snapshots of her and with the people important to her - there’s a strip from a photobooth of her and Percy making ridiculous faces; another of them on set during their first film; one of Keyleth as a child and a woman who is most definitely her mother; and, dead center on the vanity, two distinct pictures side-by-side: her and Percy with the whole band from their trip to New York, and what looks like a selfie she’d taken with Vax, slightly blurry and out of focus, but the laughter on their faces genuine and real.   Vex smiles as she picks up the photo, and turns around, extending it to Vax.   “I think you’re doing just fine, brother,” she says as he stares at it in awe.)   --   They all end up at a local bar afterward, drinking and eating greasy pub food and relaxing in a private booth in the back. It’s more about enjoying each other’s company than getting drunk for once, considering he and Keyleth do have to show up to work tomorrow and do their jobs properly. They cycle through a few options as to what to do for the rest of the evening - Scanlan suggests bowling, but it’s hard for Grog to entertain ideas that aren’t all-out wild - when Pike catches Vex’s eye and grins, clearing her throat.   “Actually, Scanlan and Grog and I are gonna join Gilmore barhopping,” she says, lying through her teeth, though only Vex can tell. Grog pumps a fist. “So if the two of you wanna go hang out with Keyleth and Percy, you totally should.”   Scanlan seems to catch on to her game pretty quickly. “Yeah, definitely. We’d like to take advantage of our one completely free night while we’re here.”   Vex shrugs. “Be our guest,” she says, and then cocks her head at Percy. “Is that alright with you, oh gracious hosts?”   “Yes, of course!” Keyleth responds a little too quickly, fingers clutching at her bottle. “We can - watch a movie, or something.”   And that’s what they do. Well, sort of.   They make it through half a movie - some old, black-and-white classic that ends up mostly as background noise - before Vex falls fast asleep, curled up against Percy’s side, his arm over her shoulders. It doesn’t take him much longer to follow her there, dozing off underneath Vex’s weight and a blanket, and Keyleth quietly tugs Vax into her bedroom, seemingly ignorant of the implications.   “Let’s let them be,” she murmurs, shutting her door as gently as she can. “They’re obviously tired.”   Vax wastes no time making himself at home. He kicks off his shoes and sprawls across her bed, picking up a stuffed white tiger and examining it. “He doesn’t sleep with people often, does he?”   “Uh, is he supposed to?” She’s slightly confused at the question, quirking an eyebrow as she sits down next him, leaning back against the pillows. “Do you?”   Vax laughs, tossing the animal up in the air and catching it. “I meant literally. I have a twin sister and a tour bus, so we’ve shared a bed more often than not. But I didn’t peg him as a guy who’d easily do something as vulnerable as sleeping beside someone.”   “Oh, I see,” she says, resting the side of her head in her hand. “No, he doesn’t. He’s not really the type to let his guard down like that. So, I figured...”   “Ah.” It’s not an interesting revelation and so Vax doesn’t pursue it further. “And what about you?”   “Me?” She’s apparently startled that he even has to ask. “I’m an open book, aren’t I?”   “Sometimes,” he answers truthfully, looking at her, cheek pressed against her moss-green comforter. “Mostly. But I think everyone has something they’re trying to protect themselves from.”   She picks at a loose thread on one of her pillows, eyes averted down. “So what’s yours?”   He thinks about saying rejection, which is true, but he assumes that’s true for almost everybody. He thinks of Vex and Percy in the other room, wrapped around each other innocently, holding their demons at bay. He thinks of Vex at peace.   And then he thinks of Vex, four, three, two years ago; flinching at a touch like a burn, eyes hollow in her skull, looking more like a girl in a graveyard than a rock show. He thinks of bruises and emptiness and the faint foreboding of home. How she got to the point where it hurt so much it stopped feeling like pain at all, and then she was nothing.   “Change,” he says instead, unable to be anything but brutally, achingly honest. He hears the beeping of hospital equipment like the beating of his own heart. “The unknown, I guess. The future. The things I can’t see.”   It’s not the answer Keyleth is expecting, and she tilts her chin down, examining him. “In what way?” She can’t stop herself from asking.   He cradles the words in his mouth before spilling them out; he doesn’t want to pour out all of Vex’s secrets, but it’s him, too. There are parts that are his and he needs to talk about them.   “I don’t know how much you know, if anything,” he says. “De Rolo seems like he’s...good at playing his cards close to the vest. Like he wouldn’t betray her, if she had told him, and I know she has. I can tell how much of herself she’s investing in him.”   Keyleth doesn’t interrupt, but her facial expressions are simple enough to read; she half-smiles, bemused and sad, but he’d judged Percy’s character correctly and she appreciates it. He continues, “Vex was in a - a pretty terrible situation a few years ago. With a man. He...took advantage of her insecurities. He’d pick out all of the horrible things she thought about herself, and validate them to her rather than relieving her of them. He abused her. It was...bad. It was really bad.”   “Vax…” Keyleth exhales, the quiet acknowledgment breaking him down.   “I didn’t know,” he confesses, and his eyes sting sharply. “I didn’t know she thought these things about herself. I knew something was wrong, but she’s such a good liar, and she’s so...she didn’t want me to worry about her. She’s good at keeping people out. She thought it would get better, or that she’d one day work up the courage to leave him.”   “But she didn’t,” Keyleth infers softly. Her hands are now covering Vax’s own, resting gently on his chest.   “She didn’t,” he says. “He almost killed her, and all I could think about was that I should’ve known. I let her down. I left her alone.” She strokes her thumb with his, allowing him to let it all out before speaking. “I’m afraid that - she’s finally better, Keyleth. She’s someone I recognize again. And I don’t want to lose her, not now, not ever.”   Keyleth carefully bends down and presses a kiss to the back of their joined hands. She says, “The fact that you’re so terrified of it proves that you wouldn’t let it happen again, even if it were an option.” She pauses, rolling over sentences as she constructs them. “I think that makes you brave, Vax. People can’t - always admit their own faults, or places they may have gone wrong. Protecting someone...isn’t as easy as it seems. But I also think it makes you stupid.”   He’s so caught off-guard by the insult that he nearly laughs; she blushes, struggling to rectify the statement. “You know it wasn’t your fault,” she clarifies, and the redness in her cheeks fades fast. “You’re carrying this burden alone. She didn’t place it upon you.”   “I don’t know that,” he denies, staring at the ceiling, the brief amusement falling away. “Maybe part of it was, and I hurt her. Maybe my obliviousness almost got her killed. What if there are things I just don’t see? Does it then matter if it’s accidental or not? What if I hurt you next?”   She’s silent for awhile, pondering him, her grip on his hands loose and comforting. After a moment, she says, “That’s mine, by the way.”   “Your what?”   “What I’m trying to protect myself from,” she says, and pulls her arm back. “You hurting me.”   He tilts his head towards her, shocked, heart dissecting itself horizontally. “Do you truly believe I would?” he asks, refusing to accept the confirmation she’s giving him. “That I’m capable of it?”   She smiles kindly down at him, but it’s wistful somehow, morose and tender. “No,” she answers softly. “But you do, and I think that’s probably the same thing.”   --   When Vex groggily opens her eyes, it’s because there’s an infomercial playing at a much louder volume than the film they’d apparently dozed off watching. She blindly reaches for the remote without fully waking up and finds the correct buttons in the dim light until it’s a gentle hum, and then she leans back against whatever she’d comfortably been sleeping on, which happens to be--   Percy. Percy with his arm around her, feet kicked up on the coffee table, glasses set aside, peaceful and dreamless. Percy blissfully handing her casual affection without consequence, like it’s simple, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to give yourself up to someone. She doubts he even thought twice about it. She was there and she needed him and so he stayed.   She leans forward carefully and presses a delicate kiss to his cheek, not wanting to disturb him; she shifts to resume her previous position, but his hand moves, lightly rubbing her lower back. His head tilts to the other side, facing her, though his eyes stay shut.   He murmurs, “Vex’ahlia.” His voice is rough from sleep, but he lifts his arm again, allowing her the room she needs to huddle herself closer to him. She’s struck with the sudden urge to cry without fully understanding why. He squints at her when she doesn’t move, a small smile on his face. “It’s okay,” he says. “Come here.”   It’s almost as if something cracks open in her soul that she’d been holding back a long, long time; she sinks into him like pouring water, her fingers curling over his shoulder, her face buried in the crook of his neck. He doesn’t speak, just loops both his arms around her and holds her tighter as if to stop her from breaking apart in his hands.   --   (The apartment is quiet when Keyleth rolls out of bed to grab a glass of water, interrupted only by Vax’s deep, even breathing and the faint buzz of the television in the living room. She makes a motion to turn it off when she realizes Percy and Vex are still there, stretched out across the couch and tangled up together. They’re facing each other; his arm is thrown around her waist and she has her forehead pressed against his chest, and it’s too close, too intimate. Keyleth has to force herself to look away.)   --   Percy’s alarm vibrates somewhere underneath his hip early the next morning, but what actually wakes him is Vex’s muffled voice against his collarbone saying, “Turn that fucking thing off, Percival.”   “You do it,” he finds himself answering, still clinging on to the edges sleep. “Your hand’s closer.”   She harrumphs in her throat, but he feels her fingers digging into his thigh as she slides his phone out from underneath him, dropping it between their bodies. He blindly gropes for it as Vex resumes her rest, clearly too comfortable to let anything disturb her.   He squints at his messages; he makes out delayed call time due to weather and sighs contentedly, switching over his alarm and tossing it onto the coffee table. He’s slightly more awake, and Vex is still here, aware of their position and enjoying it; he lowers his arm back to where it’d been resting across her waist previously and pulls her impossibly closer. She makes a small noise of surprise but doesn’t move away; she merely readjusts her head and throws a leg over his hip, and he notices--   She seems to come to the same realization, because he feels her lips curve up into a grin where her cheek is resting against his shoulder.   He heads her off at the pass, too exhausted to care. “You can fuck right off if you’re about to laugh.”   She does anyway, prompted by his remark; it’s a sweet, tired sort of giggle without any weight behind it. “Well,” she says, “you are a man, and I am extremely attractive.”   “I’m sure it was the combination of those two things, of course,” he replies dryly. “Your perception remains unmatched.”   She laughs again, and her hand crawls upward, fingers resting gently against the side of his neck. “Another day, I’ll take advantage of it.”   “I look forward to it,” he says, smiling despite himself and the oddity of their circumstances. He feels her adjust her head against his arm, tilting up her chin to look at him, and he opens one eye, blinking blearily at her.   She’s smiling, and the tips of her fingers are dancing against his skin, and in another life, he is sure he is already doing this forever.   “Yes?” he probes, his stare unbearably soft, his tone too gentle, too open and familiar.   Vex runs the pad of her thumb across his bottom lip, biting her own without realizing it, an automatic desire. She murmurs, “You know I do, don’t you?” and her glance drops to his mouth and back. “You know I want you.”   Percy understands the confession for what it is: a validation rather than an invitation, a place for discussion instead of action. It wouldn’t be a good idea - not now, not yet - but it’s still the truth.   “Our call time was pushed,” he says in lieu of a direct response. “I’ve a few more hours. Spend them with me.”   “Here?” she asks coyly. “On your couch? Don’t you own a bed, Percival?”   “I do,” he says, shutting his eyes and resting his cheek against the top of her head, his hand running up and down her spine. “However, I’m lacking in the self-control your brother and Keyleth no doubt possess. And if this conversation has been any indication, I’m sure you are, as well.”   Her body vibrates in a silent laugh, movements becoming laggier, and he recognizes the signs of exhaustion overtaking her once again. He drifts away idly imagining what it’d be like to control his dreams, and that if he could, he’d dream about her now, exactly like this, and no shadows would be lurking in the background.   --   (And, well, Percy’s not wrong.   On the other side of the wall, Vax has stuck diligently to his allotted side of the bed and Keyleth to hers, bodies a respectable distance apart, comfortable to coexist.   But somewhere along the duration of the night, they’d found each other’s hands and they hadn’t let go.)   --   They’re lazing around backstage while the tech team does the soundcheck for the night’s show; Vex keeps yawning, and Pike finally takes pity on her and gives her the rest of her cappuccino.   “Long night?” she asks slyly, wiggling one eyebrow repeatedly up and down.   Vex rolls her eyes. “Not in the way you’re imagining.”   “Really?” Pike says disbelievingly, leaning back against the wall, crew members passing around them like they’re invisible. “Okay, spill, Vex. Don’t tell me he rejected you or something.”   She laughs, because it’s the furthest thing from the truth. “No,” she says. “It’s - it’s both of us, but it’s me.”   “Spit it out.”   Vex focuses on the bass line thrumming through the floor; somewhere on stage, Scanlan’s shredding out notes and Grog’s hammering away on the drums and Vax’s voice is echoing lowly through the microphone, singing about ghosts. But there’s another memory, one of a hand around her throat and a smile too cold and cruel and vicious to ever have meant love; she closes her eyes sees those beige walls, those linoleum floors and fluorescent lights, and sometimes her bones still feel as heavy as they did then, too broken and bruised to move.   Giving up all pretense, she says, “I don’t want to fuck him and hate myself.” The words are harsher and more blunt than she intends, but she pushes on; Pike’s always been someone to listen without judgment, without fault or flaw. “I don’t want to be afraid, and I don’t want to be...somewhere else. I want to be with him. And I want to remember what it’s like when it’s about someone else, you know? Not just - me using people to remind myself I still exist, and that I am wanted. That I didn’t die.”   “I get it,” Pike says, because she always does. She lays a comforting hand on Vex’s knee. “You don’t want to be in your head. And I’m sure Percy has that concern, too.”   “Yeah,” Vex says, willing herself not to cry again; she’s been doing too much of that lately. “I could’ve had him so long ago if I’d wanted. But it wouldn’t have been real. I would’ve hurt him and I don’t think - I don’t think I could’ve come back from that.”   “Because you would’ve been proving Saundor right,” Pike infers quietly, and takes Vex’s fingers in hers instead. “Oh, honey.”   Vex tilts her head back, resting against the wall. “Yeah,” she sighs out. Grog yells from somewhere around the corner, and then there’s a loud clatter; Scanlan laughs as Vax erupts in curses.   “But you didn’t,” Pike points out, ignoring the commotion. “You didn’t hurt Percy. You’ve done exactly the opposite, so far, actually. Anyone can see that he adores you, Vex; you make him so happy. By the time this weekend is over, I’ll bet the blogs will be going insane over the two of you. I know Keyleth already tweeted about us all hanging out again, so, I mean, it’s only a matter of time.”   Vex can’t stop the smile that unfolds as Pike rambles. “Fans are that perceptive, are they?”   “Oh, yeah,” she says, “but that wasn’t going to be my point. My point is that you make him happy, and you’re trying to protect him, and protect yourself. And even back then, you were trying to protect us. That makes you nothing like Saundor said you were, Vex. Nothing.”   “I’m really trying not to cry,” Vex says, her throat tighter with every breath, “but thank you, Pike.”   “Anytime,” she says, and the world pauses its rotation for a moment, giving Vex the time she needs to catch up.   --   (By some unspoken agreement, Vex and Vax take up residence in Percy and Keyleth’s apartment over the weekend. It’s strange, two couples who aren’t couples but should be casually sharing space; it’s not as if they aren’t all aware of each other’s shortcomings, either. Keyleth never comments on the fact that Vex and Percy refuse to use his bedroom, and likewise, no remarks are ever directed at her and Vax for deciding to use hers.   Vax hears Vex’s laughter through the wall and feels her heart is safe. Vex notices he stands taller than he used to, and there is no sadness to his smile.)   --   Pike, to nobody’s surprise, turns out to be right.   Percy and Keyleth coming to a second show and a third show back-to-back cements suspicion; i know its keyleths fav band but nobody likes a band that much, Keyleth reads aloud from her indirects, i think something’s going on with someone.   gianna loves you @gunslingers · 3h Replying to @suntree who do u think tho? have they been seen in pairs at all or should we start just taking bets. i mean i agree like 2 nights in a row...verrrry fishy   aya @suntree · 3h Replying to @gunslingers well pike & grog & scanlan were out w/gilmore thurs night -sans twins. so im thinking one of them ?   jj @voxexmachina · 3h Replying to @gunslingers @suntree Omg wait yall this needs to be investigated further,,,this is so legit. Are there pics from Thurs w/out the twins?   aya @suntree · 3h Replying to @voxexmachina @gunslingers yeah! someone posted the pics on tumblr here:   teresa 2.0  @strongjawale · 3h Replying to @gunslingers @suntree @voxexmachina well the twins are bi so the possibilities are truly endless here if it is indeed one of them...i’m ngl i’d be hella into percival and vax   back on my bullshit @vexxxed · 2h Replying to @strongjawale @gunslingers @suntree and 1 other I JUST DEADASS HAD A HEART ATTACK AT THE IDEA OF VEX AND KEYLETH ASDDSLGKDSGLJL   aya @suntree · 2h Replying to @vexxxed @strongjawale @gunslingers and 1 other asfkghsfdl percival is straight im p sure...my moneys on him and vex tbh. keyleth just seems too clueless (in a cute way)   jj @voxexmachina · 2h Replying to @suntree @vexxxed @strongjawale and 1 other Idk, Id be into Keyleth/Vax, theyre a whole midnight vs sunlight aesthetic just waiting to happen   the legend of tara @scarenrae · 2h Replying to @voxexmachina @suntree @vexxxed and 2 others thanks j, now i gotta go make that shit immediately.   It continues on like that for awhile, and Keyleth only stops because Grog almost pisses himself laughing at the idea of Percy and Vax in a relationship, to which Vax response by draping himself across Percy’s back with his arms around his neck and kissing his cheek loudly.   Scanlan says, “Can’t wait to see your aesthetics.”   “Oh, young love,” Pike adds.   Grog bends down and whispers, “What’s an ascetic?”   --   Moving on from Atlanta is harder for the twins than their brief respite in New York had been; not because of the novelty of New York, but because of the familiarity of home in Atlanta. Percy and Keyleth’s apartment had been the furthest thing from a tour bus or a hotel room, full of warmth and light and people who wanted them to be there.   But something in Vax which was once closed has now opened, and he can’t wait for it any longer. He refuses to sacrifice anything else, or anyone else. He pulls Vex off to the side one evening when they’ve stopped to refuel and he’s unsteady, as if he’s aching to talk to her but desperately terrified of her answers; he grips one of her hands in his, and she recognizes that the touch means something to him.   He says, “I love Keyleth.”   “I’m aware,” Vex says, obviously bewildered but indulgent. “I remember it well, as I was there when you told her.”   “I love her,” Vax says again, holding Vex’s hand against his chest, over his heart. “I love her, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you, or that I won’t be there for you whenever you need me.”   “I know that,” Vex laughs, rolling her eyes at his dramaticism. “You’re my darling brother. I get it.”   “No,” he says, clutching her tighter. “No, I really mean it. You can...tell me, when things happen to you. I want to be someone you come to. Someone who listens to you.”   Vex takes in his sweet, sad eyes; his earnestness, the masked despair underneath his words. She thinks of him sleeping in a chair next to her bed for a week straight, and every time before that she’d said I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. And she understands.   She pulls him in close to her, her arms around his shoulders, chin against the crook of his neck. “It’s okay,” she murmurs, feeling him hug her back slowly, uncertain. “You know - you know I’ve never blamed you, right?”   He shakes harder in her embrace, and oh, no, he’s never realized that, this stupid fool of a man whom she adores more than her own life; even if she doesn’t blame him, he blames himself. Her ribs feel like they���ve split open, cracking against the way she has to suddenly stop herself from choking on her breath. How could she never have realized, how could she not have thought-- “Vax, my God - no, you bloody idiot, what happened to me was not your fault! There was nothing you could’ve done--”   “I could’ve gotten you out of there,” he whispers, his voice barely hanging on. “I knew you were lying to me, but I didn’t--”   “You couldn’t have,” she says firmly, “because I wouldn’t have listened to you, even if you were sitting in front of me showing me the evidence. Vax, it wasn’t my fault, and it wasn’t your fault; it was him. I...I believed certain things for so long that you could’ve done whatever you wanted and it wouldn’t have been enough. I needed more. I needed an army, and by the time I ended up where I did, that’s what I had.” She rubs her hands comfortingly up and down his back. “I know Grog and Pike stopped him from getting within a hundred feet of my hospital room and threatened to beat him fifty times worse if he tried. I know Scanlan was the one who looked into the restraining order and legal proceedings. And I know you sat at my side every single day until I’d healed, and I know you haven’t left since.”   He’s openly weeping into her shoulder, finally unburdened, relieved, and so, so devastated for her, for everything she lost and found again. “I love you,” he says through tears. “I love you so, so much, and I can’t live without you.”   “You don’t have to,” she says, pulling away and taking his face between her palms, meeting his eyes. “I’ll be here. Forever. Okay?”   He holds her gaze a moment longer, attempting to steady himself. “Okay,” he says at last.   “Good,” she says, “because now you can pursue the woman you’re actually in love with guiltlessly, which is what I want for you. I want you to be happy, Vax, and I refuse to be the thing that holds you back from that.” She takes in a breath, blinking solidly, blocking out the world for a second as she finds the words for her own confession. “Look. I’m - I’m changing, too. I’m trying to. And I think we both need to - trust ourselves, for once. Trust that we’re doing what’s right for us, even if it’s in different directions. We can find each other, no matter what.”   Vax observes her briefly, his mouth pulling into the barest hint of a smile. “He’s good for you, isn’t he,” he says plainly, almost looking proud of her. “I know you’re good for him. Why haven’t you told him yet?”   Vex bites the inside of her own lip, taken aback by the sudden shift in attention, and resists the automatic urge to deflect her emotion. “He is,” she says honestly. “And I haven’t...found the words. Maybe I need to sing about it,” she tacks on as a weak attempt at a joke, but he raises his eyebrows, contemplating.   “Maybe you do,” he says finally, and drops his eyes with a smile. “Maybe we both do.”   --   (We have things to say to each other, he tells her. We have things to say to them. So let’s say them the way we know how. Sit down with me.   Pike ushers Grog and Scanlan to the back of the bus, recognizing the importance of the moment building between them. Vax pulls out a notepad and two pens and sets them on the table while Vex gazes aimlessly out the window, her fingers moving idly across her guitar strings, searching for herself, for what she wants and how to achieve it.   What are you trying to stop? Vax asks, scribbling in the margins. What are we changing from?   Lying, Vex says, because it’s the first thing that comes to mind. I’m trying to be more like me, and less like someone I was made into.   I’m trying that, too, Vax says, which surprises her. I don’t want to have doubts. About you, about myself.   Vex grabs the pen and writes out, I’m giving up this whole lie, and this whole me.   There, she says. That’s what I’m doing.   Vax furrows his brow, and in a different handwriting, Call it out like a family appears below it, but he doesn’t stop - instead I bide my time, get a ride, until the - he crosses out a few things; she sees ‘tires’ struck out, screech - and then: until the rubber leaves the road.   Vex doesn’t know how to follow that, and says, Okay, now what are we telling them.   That I’m determined not to make the same mistakes I’ve made before, Vax says immediately. That I won’t blame myself for the actions of others. But that sounds stupid, and shallow. It’s more like...she’s my intention. Does that make sense? She is, you are. It’s not like something meaningless I can break.   No, I understand, Vex says. It has weight.   She writes out words. Drive, motivation, determination, intention. None of them are right. Resolution.   Yes, Vax says, tilting his head. That’s it. Because it’s us, you know, it’s a promise to ourselves and to them.   Okay, Vex says, scrawling out you’ll be my resolution. I think we’ve got something here. Hold on. We can work with this theme.   They take turns scribbling down whatever comes to mind along the same lines - one verse has the both of them mirroring each other, with Vex writing, You said don’t lie so I made the truth / seem like a lie to even you and Vax adding after Control your fear, it’s clear / that you do not know where you’re going to.   Vex’s most honest verse comes because Keyleth and Percy text them around one in the morning, finally wrapping up their workday; they tend to stay focused during filming, but when they get home to relax, their minds wander, and the twins’ phones end up simultaneously going off more often than not. Keyleth texts Vax “miss you” and Vax takes a moment to just stare at her picture, and Percy’s message to Vex is simply “Wanted to say goodnight, apologies if I’ve woken you.”   Fuck, she breathes out, and Vax drops his forehead to the table. It’s torture, she says.   One month down and it’s in sight / oh I’m guaranteed to lose my mind It’s dangerous to speak and sigh / you might know what I’m trying to hide   Vax doesn’t laugh. It’s hard, wanting someone and not being able to have them, but not because the love isn’t there.   It takes them another two hours to finish the lyrics, and they come up with a bare melody born purely from Vex’s idle plucking. They decide it needs to feel like them, and not like the persona they put on; it needs to be vulnerable because it is.   In the morning, Pike finds the notepad still lying on the table, covered in doodles and scratched out words and a random game of hangman, “resolution” written at the top. She reads it - she figures they’ll get to anyway, considering they’ll be playing it - and is surprised to feel herself almost moved to tears by it. It’s deeply personal, and for once, it’s not angry or bitter or careless, or even rough around the edges like many of their songs are; it’s a mark of something new. She traces over the ink of the last lines.   I’m not you, nor you me but we’re both moving steady.)   --   vex’ildan @imvexthatsvax · 16m https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZaKMZ82mp4...   the legend of tara @scarenrae · 11m y’all it’s totally vex. listen to the song she posted ______________________ vex’ildan @imvexthatsvax https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZaKMZ82mp4... Keyleth Retweeted vex’ildan @imvexthatsvax · 17m https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZaKMZ82mp4...   the legend of tara @scarenrae · 5m Replying to @imvexthatsvax @keylethoftheair FUCK !!!!!   --   FROM: Percy Interesting song choice.   TO: Percy do you have tweet alerts turned on for me?   FROM: Percy Obviously.   TO: Percy good. ;)   TO: Percy so any response?   FROM: Percy Musically? Perhaps. But it’ll have to wait.   FROM: Percy Plus, Keyleth retweeted it, so now twitter thinks you’re dating each other.   TO: Percy oh, balls.   FROM: Percy Her exact words were “ugh, she just so gets me.”   TO: Percy that’s the last time i try and sneakily reveal my feelings through music to you.   --   2:45 AM FROM: Percy It’s true.   --   A few weeks later, Percy and Keyleth are finally home.   Keyleth’s first priority is watering her own plants, and then heading straight to Percy’s to tend to his. She’s almost frantic about it, carrying a misplaced sense of guilt for ‘leaving them alone so long,’ despite having had someone care for them the entire time they’d been away.   The band is somewhere in the south, but they perform on a late-night talk show that’s employing one those travel the country sets where they host in a variety of American cities as a publicity stunt, and an opportunity for fans who don’t have the money to travel themselves. Keyleth and Percy originally don’t think they’re able to be home in time to watch due to the time difference, but a stroke of luck has them on Percy’s couch fifteen minutes before it airs, eating white cheddar cheese puffs and drinking wine, because they’re adults, for fuck’s sake.   The band looks even better than they sound, which is really saying something, because they sound incredible. Vex has her signature blue feather in her hair and Vax has his black one, and they’re wearing matching leather jackets, black skinny jeans, and shoes with studs on them - though where Vax’s are boots, Vex’s...are stilettos.   Percy’s face flushes bright red, and Keyleth, who’d been jokingly recording her own reactions like reviews, turns her camera on him to capture the moment. He’s sure his skin appears absolutely ridiculous against his white hair and scowls, raising a hand to block himself from view. She pats him on the shoulder and says, “Hang in there, Percy,” and then turns back to the television, zooming in on Vex’s heels.   After they’re done, the host comes over to chat them up for a bit, asking about their Grammy win, how the tour is, where they’re headed. And then, clearly as charmed by Vex as anybody in their right mind would be, he can’t resist a fake-but-not-so-fake proposal aimed her way.   “So, Vex’ahlia,” he says, charisma oozing out of him, “you’re beautiful, famous, rich, royal...where’s a guy like me start trying to get to know you? I’ve only hosted the number one late night show on cable for the last ten years, but somehow I doubt that’s something that impresses you. Any advice?”   “Well,” she says, smirking charmingly, fluttering her eyelashes, “if you’d like to get to know me, you can read my Wikipedia page; it’s pretty thorough, and mostly accurate.”   He laughs, a hand over his heart dramatically. “Ouch! The sting of rejection--”   “No, no,” she says diplomatically, now that her fun’s been had. “In truth, my heart is someone else’s.”   Keyleth drops her phone entirely, which proves to be unfortunate; she’d missed an excellent and unforgettable shot of Percy staring blankly at the television screen as though someone had just called out his winning lottery numbers.   --   Chaney @raspberryfieldsforever  · 18m @suntree @vexxxed @lizzyisademon @cooleraid DID U SEE THIS OMGGGG _______________________________________ Music or Lose It @musicorloseitmag “My heart is someone else’s”: Vex’ahlia, lead singer of Vox Machina, confesses on late-night...   aya @suntree · 15m Replying to @raspberryfieldsforever @vexxxed @lizzyisademon and 1 other I’M FUCKING LOSING IT I’M AT WORK I COULDN’T WATCH ASDGDSFG WHAT DID SHE SAY   RLY BACK ON MY BULLSHIT @vexxxed · 15m Replying to @raspberryfieldsforever @suntree @lizzyisademon and 1 other YES IM HAVIGN A CORONARY LIKE !! SHE DID THAT !!! ON LIVE TV SHE DID THAT   RLY BACK ON MY BULLSHIT @vexxxed · 14m Replying to @suntree @raspberryfieldsforever @lizzyisademon and 1 other AYA OMFGGGG she didnt say who or anything like it basically ended there but WE KNOW THE TRUTH…….   boo @lizzyisademon · 13m Replying to @vexxxed @suntree @raspberryfieldsforever and 1 other #TheTruthIsOutThere   RLY BACK ON MY BULLSHIT @vexxxed · 11m Replying to @lizzyisademon @suntree @raspberryfieldsforever and 1 other i did my waiting….twelve years of it…..in azkaban @imvexthatsvax pardon the interruption but WHO WERE YOU REFERRING TO   kait @cooleraid · 10m Replying to @vexxxed @imvexthatsvax @lizzyisademon and 2 others SAM DID I SERIOUSLY JUST GET HERE IN TIME FOR YOU TO TAG VEX HERSELF DELETE THAT IMMEDIATELY   vex’ildan @imvexthatsvax · 5m Replying to @cooleraid @vexxxed @lizzyisademon and 2 others ;)   --   “I think you killed them,” Pike says, scrolling through the thread. “They’re just screaming at each other incoherently.”   Vex laughs, her feet stretched out across Vax’s lap, also following the drama. “At least I was nice about it. I mean, I winked, didn’t I? Isn’t that a dream come true for a fan of mine?”   “Were you always this egotistical, or is that recent?” Vax asks, responding to a text from Keyleth containing only shocked cat emojis.   She glances up, meets his eyes and smiles. “I like to think it was always.”   He grins back warmly, and they come to a deeper understanding. “Me, too.”   --   (“And you, Vax?” the host asks, because he’s good at his job and knows not to play favorites. “Where’s your heart at the moment? Any singers you’ve got your eye on?”   He grins widely and says, “Actually, I’m more into actors these days. Us musicians are just so tortured and dull, right?”   His remark falls under the radar due to Vex’s bombshell, but it’s okay. Keyleth hears it, and she knows, and that’s all that matters, anyway.)   --   “I’ve been hearing some interesting rumors, Percival,” is the first thing his sister says when he pulls her up on Skype.   “Hello to you too,” he says, glancing her over through their pixelated connection. It’s his late morning, her night, and she’s already lounging in bed; he’s sitting at his dining room table, eating toast. “You’re looking well, Cassandra.”   “I am well, thanks,” she responds politely. “And if the rumors are true, you’re doing quite well yourself.”   “Oh, I’ll bite,” he says. “What’ve you heard?”   “Most recently, that you’re in some sort of a polyamorous relationship with twins from some rock band, and Keyleth,” she says, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably. “The internet seems unable to agree on where your affections lie.”   He sighs heavily. “Fame has its downsides.”   “I’m waiting for the truth,” Cassandra probes, adjusting her earphones. “Unless you’re attempting to tell me that really is the truth, in which case, I must officially withdraw my support of your lifestyle to protect our family’s dignity, poise, and public perception.”   “It’s only partly true,” he says, knowing she’ll pester him until he tells her. “They’re called Vox Machina - the band, that is - and Keyleth and I are...enamored with their frontrunners, who are the twins.”   Her chin slips off her hand, intrigued. “Fascinating,” she says. “So which twin is whose love interest? And this developed simultaneously?”   He’s strangely shameless on the subject; she’s his sister and he misses her, and he knows she’s curious because she cares about him. He says, “Oddly, yes. And there’s no scandal, I’m afraid, it’s rather traditional - Vax’ildan sometimes worries me with his enthusiasm for Keyleth, and, well, Vex’ahlia is quite...”   “Quite,” Cassandra repeats, teasing him. “Enchanting? Effervescent? Does she light up rooms, Percival?”   “Try stadiums,” he says, but he’s smiling.   --   And then, the completely predictable but somehow unexpected happens:   Keyleth begins gathering renown in a way she hasn’t before.   She’s always been an incredible actress, but like Percy, had stuck to indie films and niche genres - but Aramente finally drops at a festival and suddenly it’s all anyone can talk about. It’s sort of magical realism, the kind of story that allows critics to go nuts with their interpretations; she plays the daughter of a novel type of royal family, one that requires a personal journey of strength and self-discovery across the far reaches of the earth before a title can be taken. She’d agreed to the role because she’d felt so connected to the character, and was overjoyed at the amount of time she was able to spend in the wilderness while filming; Percy knows that many of her scenes where she takes in the world around her are genuine.   She garners amazing reviews for her essentially one-woman performance - she’s the main character, and there are few recurring ones - and Kima is suddenly fielding an onslaught of offers for new projects.   None of this really affects Keyleth, though; if anything, she’s just excited that she has the opportunity to do more of what she loves.   What it does change is the amount of time she now spends promoting it, as it’s gotten picked up by a major studio for distribution. She and her two co-stars - the only two that recur in the film, Kashaw and Zahra - appear on talk shows together, complementing each other in the strangest of ways, comical and enjoyable to watch.   She and Percy have finally wrapped Passed Through Fire, but the two of them know it’s going to be a trilogy and don’t have to face the reality of separation just yet. She still makes time for Vax in between promotions - it’s mostly just the month after the film drops, and then, she tells him, probably the week it’s due for a theatrical release - and he makes sure to watch every interview.   And he notices Kashaw.   Kash, as Keyleth calls him. Kash staring at her a little too long, stone-faced and unreadable. Kash never reaching for her, but allowing her touch on him. Kash with a smile that can only be described as distant, except for when he’s talking to her.   Vax recognizes the signs.   “Yeah, I see what you mean,” Vex says, watching their most recent interview on YouTube, her phone held to one ear, an earbud in the other. “Percy, what do you make of this?”   She listens for a moment, clicking through her browser. “Of course,” she answers without explaining to Vax. He kicks her under the table just as their bus hits a bump, and accidentally hits harder than he’d intended.   “Fuck, Vax!” she snaps, rubbing her shin. “Balls! That hurt, you fucker--”   “Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all. “What’s he saying?”   Vex rolls her eyes and lays her phone down, touching the screen. “Darling, you’re on speaker,” she says, “so save any inappropriate commentary for later. Ta.”   Percy snorts. “I’ll try to control myself.”   “Back to me, please,” Vax says.   “I’ve met Kash a few times, and he’s - standoffish, I suppose is the word. No social skills whatsoever, but in an antisocial way, not like Keyleth’s tactlessness. I wouldn’t worry too much, even if he does like her, because she’ll never pick up on it. He’d have to really spell it out for her.”   “Look,” Vax says, “it’s not like I have any right to her, or something. I’m just wondering how she feels.”   “Hasn’t even crossed her mind,” Percy says definitively. “You’ve sort of consumed her, Vax, and I mean that as a compliment. She’s a little more grounded than she used to be.”   “I won’t change course,” Vax says vaguely, “but I won’t stand in her way, either.”   “I think that’s a healthy place to be,” Percy answers.   “Thanks, Freddie.”   There’s a pause and then a noise of utter disgust. “Excuse me?”   Vex laughs loudly, and, well, Percy loses his edge.   --   (Vex has her bad days.   They’ll start with a memory. Just one, any one. Syldor’s hands around her throat. An argument in a hospital hallway. The twinge of a bruised rib. A door slamming shut, rattling the windows.   It’s not that she can’t go to Vax, but more as if she’d rather save him from his own guilt. She calls Percy and she says, “Bad day,” her breath coming and going in short, staccato patterns, her eyes burning and dry, and he’ll talk to her about his day, his work, his life. Anything to get her to focus on him and not her own past.   It’s what he’s doing when Vax sticks his head in her bunk and says, “Hey, I need you to watch this video and let me know if I have competition for Keyleth. Not that she’s a prize, I’m talking respectfully, as in, I’d just like to know where I stand, what I should be prepared for--”   “Gods,” Vex says, Percy in her ear pausing midway through pondering the appeal of Las Vegas. “Okay, I’m coming. I’ve Percy, so if you ask nicely, perhaps he’ll share some insight.”   Vax wanders back out to the kitchen. Vex murmurs, “Thank you.”   “No need,” Percy says softly. “I’m here for you. Always.”)   --   None of them really count on Kash’s spontaneous nature.   An interviewer asks him how he’s liked working with the cast, and he says, “Keyleth is the most annoying person I’ve ever met in my life. She’s so bubbly and happy-go-lucky all the time. It’s exhausting.”   Everyone laughs, and Keyleth’s jaw drops, affronted, but she’s giggling too. Kash looks slightly confused, because he hadn’t been telling a joke, but, Percy thinks as he watches from the green room, it’s probably best it’d been interpreted that way.   They come traipsing back to where Percy’s waiting (for moral support, of course) a few minutes later, and Keyleth is in the middle of saying, “You’re such a jerk, Kash; since when is being happy a bad thing--”   He stops just inside the room, contemplating her. “It’s not,” he says, and without warning, without agenda, he tugs her to him and kisses her.   Percy blinks, not quite able to comprehend what he’s looking at, and then it’s over before he can.   “Well,” Kash says gruffly, “see you around.”   And he walks away, leaving her standing in the doorway with a stunned look on her face, like she’s just coming down from an out-of-body experience.   “Um,” she says, and her eyes slowly travel over to Percy.   “Erm,” he says in response, and attempts to shake himself out of it so that Keyleth can have her impending freak out against somebody solid. “Shall we...go?”   She nods blankly, following him to the valet.   --   (It takes ten minutes of driving home in Percy’s car before she suddenly exclaims, “What the fuck was that about?!”   “People like you,” Percy says unhelpfully. “Although I’m not liking this trend of men kissing you without asking your permission. Technically, he sexually assaulted you.”   Keyleth opens and closes her mouth like an exotic tropical fish. “Um,” she says again, “I think I’ll just talk to him.”)   --   It turns out she doesn’t have to, because he approaches her first, sending her a text: Hey. It’s Kash. Sorry I kissed you last night. I should have given you a chance to stop me. I’m not very good with people. Please accept my apology. I will not do it again. Unless you ask me to. Sorry again. Kash   “Well,” Percy says, because dealing with one socially unaware person is enough for him, and he doesn’t even know where to begin with two.   “I’m gonna let it go,” Keyleth says. “I mean, he came forward and realized his mistakes on his own, and I at least appreciate that.”   “Sure,” Percy says. “Are you going to tell Vax?”   She turns her stare on him, wide and fearful, and the effect comes off as if her eyes have been blown up twice their normal size. “Do you think I should? I’ve been worrying about it, but, like, we’re not dating, I don’t know, I mean, is it something he needs to know about? Is he gonna find out anyway? Were there people watching? Did you tell Vex already?” She says all of this very fast and without breathing, as if she only has a spare bit of time before the end of the world.   “Erm,” Percy says.   “You’re right,” Keyleth says. “I should tell him. He’s been honest with me, I need to show him the same courtesy. I just don’t know what to say, you know? Like, how do I frame it? ‘Kash kissed me and though I was inappropriately flattered I didn’t like it’?”     “That’s, ah--”   “No, it should be in-person,” Keyleth continues fastidiously. “I should tell him to his face. He might think I’m rejecting him, and I’m totally not. I’m really not good with words, I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. I love him, you know? I’m working towards something. I don’t want to ruin our friendship where it is now, either. You’re right, Percy, you’re so wise. I’ll tell him when they’re in town next week. Thanks!”   “You’re welcome,” Percy says, so exhausted from following Keyleth’s own internal-turned-external monologue that he actually feels as if he has spent the last hour giving her advice. “I’m going to bed, I think. But I’m glad I could be of service.”   --   The band’s due to arrive in Los Angeles within the week - they’re in Phoenix, and their San Diego stop is actually at the end of the tour, rather than following, at the twins’ own request - and their song is almost perfect. Vex and Vax have a furious debate over which show to play it at - Vax wants their last show; if it goes poorly, he argues, then they’ll be out of there the next day, and perhaps it won’t extend the sting of rejection - but Vex merely rolls her eyes and says, “Aren’t we trying to be brave?”   “I’ve done that already,” Vax says immediately. “I did the whole ‘spill out my soul in public’ thing. Your turn.”   “Fine, my turn,” Vex agrees, her palms flat against the wood as they stare at each other from opposite ends of the table. “I want to play it at the first show.”   Vax frowns, but Pike shrugs and says, “Sorry, Vax, you kind of handed her that one.”   “I know,” he grumbles, but acquiesces.   --   vax’ahlia @imvaxthatsvex · 22m monday mood https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU...   emo bitch @ravensallover · 19m hey folks what are we thinking about the foursome today with this lil gem from our boi ________________________________ vax’ahlia @imvaxthatsvex monday mood https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU...   jack of spades @georgiaisforlovers · 17m Replying to @ravensallover @imvaxthatsvex Wait n see who retweets it   Keyleth Retweeted vax’ahlia @imvaxthatsvex · 28m monday mood https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU...   jack of spades @georgiaisforlovers · 14m Replying to @ravensallover @imvaxthatsvex @keylethoftheair Welp   emo bitch @ravensallover · 12m Replying to @georgiaisforlovers @imvaxthatsvex @keylethoftheair lmao where’s tara   the legend of tara @scarenrae · 10m Replying to @ravensallover @georgiaisforlovers @imvaxthatsvex and 1 other I SWEAR TO GOD,. IS IT JUST KEYLETH??? IS IT A FUCKIGN LVOE TRIANGLE??? WHAT IS IT   --   TO: Vax Totally not trying to read into anything but   FROM: Vax yesss?   TO: Vax Was that for me?   FROM: Vax of course, i know ur fav bands :-)   TO: Vax I don’t like to assume!   FROM: Vax kiki my life is full with u in it & all my music if for u   FROM: Vax is* for u   TO: Vax <3   FROM: Vax <3   TO: Vax I wish I wasn’t alone tonight   FROM: Vax i wish that most nights   --   Percy isn’t expecting it. Maybe that’s the worst part.   He’s scanning through his Google news alerts casually while he waits for the car to pick him up and take him to the studio for an ADR session; now that the film’s in post it’s taking heavy scrutiny. Brooklyn Off-Duty Police Officer Involved in DUI. He flicks his thumb down the screen. Fire Contained in Pasadena. He swipes over to the U.K., as he does customarily to remind himself what he left behind, and what is still waiting for him should he choose it. Brexit Negotiations...Scottish Referendum...Anna Ripley, Notorious for the Mass Murder of the Royal de Rolo Family, Found Dead…   The world falls silent, still.   He clicks on the article without even registering his own actions. Posted ten minutes ago.   He stares, and stares, and stares, but the words never change. It’s not a hallucination or a dream. The headline sits there, gloating, mocking him.   Anna Ripley…   The body, he thinks numbly. He wants to see the body. He needs the evidence, the photographic proof of her lying lifeless and cold and unmoving. Anything to get her sick, twisted smile out of his mind. Anything to stop her voice from echoing around his skull.   Percival...   There’s the distant memory of a fingernail, sharp underneath his chin. His phone drops from his hands, but he doesn’t hear it hit the floor.   You’re so clever, Percival. You’re so talented. You’ll do great things. I couldn’t sacrifice that.   He slides down against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest, hands covering his ears. The knocking at his door fails to register; his phone remains unanswered and unnoticed. He sits and he rocks and he breathes, and he tries to keep himself alive.   --   Percy doesn’t show up to record with her. He’s supposed to be there just after nine, an hour after her own call time, but the crew member who’d gone to pick him up returns alone.   From the booth, she sees him talking to the director, who points out something on her phone and shakes her head, covering her mouth as she talks. Keyleth can’t make out what they’re saying, and asks, “Hey guys, everything okay? Any notes?”   The director glances up and smiles; she presses a button and says, “Doing great, Keyleth. Actually, we’ve moved Percival’s slot to tomorrow - we’ve decided to bucket all your time for today, if that’s fine with you.”   Keyleth sees nothing strange about the explanation and so she doesn’t pry for details. “No problem,” she says brightly. “Let me know when we’re ready.”   “In three, two…” she signals for Keyleth to start, and leans over to the A.D. “Don’t give her enough of a break to check her phone today,” she murmurs to the other woman. “We don’t have the flexibility to lose time with both Keyleth and Percival.”   --   It’s five in the evening for Cassandra when Kynan pulls her aside; she’d been traveling, stuck in meetings all day, hadn’t even glanced at a screen in hours. He hands her his mobile wordlessly, fingers clammy and warm, and her lips part in a bare, uncontrollable slip of shock. The blood sinks back down into her heart and pools there, her face left white, a porcelain mask cracking.   She asks unsteadily, “How could this possibly have gotten out before we were even informed?”   “I don’t know.”   Her expression hardens. “Does Percy know?”   Kynan swallows nervously. “I don’t know.”   “Fuck,” Cassandra breathes out, already dialing his number. “This isn’t good.” It rings, and rings, and rings. She tries Keyleth and it’s the same; it rings, and rings, and finally goes to voicemail. “Keyleth, it’s Cass,” she says into the receiver. “Call me the second you see this, please. Talk soon.”   “What can I do?” he asks, needing to be helpful. “Task me.”   She furrows her brow, thinking of someone who may be there, accessible. “Actors,” she hisses, and it comes to her immediately. “So bloody unreliable. I need you to get me Vex’ahlia Vessar’s mobile. Her father is the Marquees of Reading. She’s in a band called Vox Machina. It shouldn’t be difficult.”   A look of recognition crosses his features. “Understood.”   --   Vex isn’t one to pick up calls from unknown numbers.   Vax, fortunately, is, and it’s his phone that rings just after ten-thirty in the morning as they’re checking out of their hotel. He slides to answer without thinking about it, barely comprehending the +44 code in front of the rest of the digits.   “Hello?” he says, adjusting the strap of his backpack.   “Vex’ahlia?” a harried voice answers in response.   “Wrong twin,” Vax says, now struggling with the buckle. “Who’s this?”   “I need to speak with Vex’ahlia immediately. It’s imperative I get ahold of her. Are you Vax’ildan?”   He stops, straightening up slowly. “Yeah,” he says carefully. “Again, who is this?”   “My name is Cassandra de Rolo,” she says, and he actually pulls the phone away from his ear to stare at it in surprise. “Hello?”   “Hi, yeah, erm, sorry, Your Highness, or - yeah,” he says, unaware of how to address her. “You - right. Vex. Okay. Uh…” He lowers the phone again and scans for his sister; she’s talking to Grog, lounging in one of the lobby chairs. “Hey, Vex!” he yells.   She leans her head around Grog’s frame. “What?” she shouts back.   “You - need to take this,” he says, holding up his cell. “Now.” She gets up obediently, padding over to him with a quizzical look on her face, and takes the phone. “Hello?” she says, and then for awhile she is quiet.   He watches her expression shift from confusion to intense focus, something a bit like dawning horror hiding in the widening of her eyes. He can’t make out what Cassandra is telling her, but it’s frantic, worried. Answering a question he doesn’t hear, Vex says, “Yes,” followed by another pause, and then:   “Yes, I’ll find him.”   --   “Vex, this is nuts,” Vax says for the tenth time, trailing behind her furiously. “You can’t just take off and not even tell us--”   “I’ll meet you in L.A.,” she says, brushing him off as the doorman outside finds her a cab. “Vax, I’m sorry. I have to go.”   “But why--”   A car pulls up next to the curb and she throws the door open before the driver can think about getting out to help. She glances over her shoulder and says, “Don’t worry about me. See you tomorrow,” and then she is gone, speeding away from the hotel like her life is at stake.   --   (Maybe it is, he realizes after, staring at Cassandra de Rolo’s contact details. Maybe it is.)   --   Vex buys the first flight she can on whatever airline is leaving the earliest, and because she only has a duffle bag, she’s able to get on one ten minutes out from boarding. The man at the desk recognizes her, too, and it’s a rare moment where she’s grateful for fame rather than angry about it.   She reads the news report while waiting at the gate, her heart sinking deeper with every word, the memory of Cassandra’s revelation fresh in her mind.   “Vex’ahlia, I’m not sure what you’re aware of or not, but I don’t have time to respect his privacy at the moment and I know the two of you are close,” she’d said. “Anna Ripley, the woman who murdered my family - our family - has died. She affects Percy differently than I, because she chose to keep him alive; she’d told him she was doing him a favor, and that she was going to create something beautiful out of him, out of his tragedy.” Even now, the idea has Vex’s skin and bone shivering out of tune with each other, like she’s shaking inside of herself. “She’d always been interested in him. She’d thought he was brilliant. And she was a sociopathic, deluded, evil woman.”   She’d said, “I can’t get ahold of Percy.”   She’d said, “Please, Vex’ahlia, I’m begging you. Find him.”   But Vex had started to move before Cassandra had even asked.   --   The flight is an hour and a half of torture, every terrible circumstance and situation Percy may possibly be in playing like the b-roll of a film on loop. She’s so wired by the time she arrives at his apartment complex that she throws two hundred dollars at the cab driver, even though the ride had only cost her fifty.   There’s no security to wrestle with, no difficult front desk management; Percy likes to be prepared, if nothing else. She marches up to the man sitting behind the counter and says with all the charm she can muster, “Hello, sorry to disturb you, but I’m Vex’ahlia Vessar - I believe Percival de Rolo mentioned I’d be staying with him this week and left me a key? I’m a few days early; I wanted it to be a surprise.” She slides him her I.D., not wanting to waste any time, and not even knowing if she has any time to waste.   The man smiles kindly up at her and says, “Of course, Ms. Vessar. Welcome, and what a lovely surprise - I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” He reaches into his desk drawer and hands her a small envelope, the weight of the key heavy inside of it; well, Percy does pay a fortune to live here, so it shouldn’t be any surprise that the staff are extremely well-trained and professional.   “He’s on the eighth floor - 8A. There are only two apartments, so you can’t miss it.”   She unlocks his door with her blood pulsing in all the wrong places. The pit of her stomach, the base of her skull, the bottoms of her feet, the creases of her elbows. It opens with a short click, and then swings inward, and Vex is immediately relieved that he isn’t face-down in the entryway.   The second thing she thinks is that his apartment is entirely too green for him, but exactly enough for Keyleth; another time, the observation will be amusing, but it isn’t now.   “Percival?” she calls, and hears no answer in response. She doesn’t take her time. She rushes from room to room, searching him out; the fear of finding him doesn’t outweigh her need to find him. Library, work room, guest room...   In the bathroom off of the master bedroom, the water is on, beating against the bowl of the sink.   (As long as Vex lives, the sight of endlessly running water in stillness leaves her with a mark; an uncomfortable emptiness, and the sound of death.)   She pushes the door open further, and hits something with a gentle thud, and she has never faced anything as terrifying in her life as Percy’s limp body on the tiled floor, curled up in itself.   “God,” she exhales, dropping to her knees, her hands immediately finding the pulse strong in his throat; it’s fast, actually, too fast, and he’s sweating through his clothes, forehead hot and clammy. “Christ, Percy, fuck--”   He makes a low noise in his throat, but doesn’t move. She turns him onto his back, her palms, cupping his face, stroking his cheekbones, trying to get a response. “Percy,” she says, shaking him a little. “Percy, I need you to open your eyes, darling, please.”   She glances around the bathroom, knowing he must’ve taken something to wind up in this state; she remembers horror stories, celebrities and their painkiller addictions, and tries to think of any recent injury Percy could’ve had that would’ve allotted him the same treatment--   Her eyes fall upon a small prescription bottle by the sink, and she reaches for it, fearing the worst--   She steadies herself on Percy’s shoulder. He grunts again, a cross between a groan and a word. She shakes the bottle and it rattles; it’s Percy’s anxiety medication, and it’s mostly full. She sighs, relieved; so, he didn’t overdose.   Vex lifts herself up and fills a cup with water from the still-running sink. “Percy,” she says, “I need you to drink this.” She slips her hand underneath his neck, and with a disturbing, macabre thought, she realizes that the dead weight of a head is really quite heavy. “Percy,” she says louder. “Open your eyes.”   And then she pours the ice-cold water onto his face.   --   He blinks blearily and the world is upside-down, out of focus, shadowed in hues of grey. There’s something hovering above him, but he can’t make out what it is. His mouth is dry and dusty, and his skin feels liquidized, like it’s melting off of him, like it’s not there at all.   “Percy,” a voice says. “Can you hear me?”   “Yes,” he thinks he says, but it comes out sounding all wrong. “Yes,” he says again, louder but still nonsensical.   The person’s fingers brush his hair away from his forehead. “Gods, Percy,” the voice says, and he recognizes this voice. It’s a good one, full of gentle lulls and lilts, and not the horrible thing of possession he’d been hearing for the past few hours. He tries to center his gaze, but his eyelids are so difficult to hold open, and it doesn’t seem worth it.   “Who?” he tries to ask, the word slurred.   “Vex,” Vex says, staring down at him.   “Vex,” he repeats, and grins to himself. “Nice dream,” he sighs.   Something is slipped behind his ears, resting on the bridge of his nose.   “This isn’t a dream,” she says softly. “Open your eyes, darling. Please.”   So he does, and this time, it’s in focus.   Vex is hovering above him looking every bit as beautiful as if he had dreamed her up himself; she’s smiling and stroking his face with the tips of her fingers, tracing across his pronounced jaw line, his bottom lip, his cheekbones.   “Vex,” he says, surprised, and it comes out sounding more and more like it’s supposed to.   “Yes,” she says, and he’s startled to find tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m so happy to see you.”   --   It takes her ten minutes just to get him to sit up, and even then he can’t do much more than that. He can’t seem to look at her for too long - she’s reminded of the first time they met, and the brutal contrast between then and now has her heart swollen in her chest - but it’s because of the tremendous effort it’s taking him to raise his head. He sits with his legs bent, one knee up and drawn in, breathing deeply through his nose.   “Percy,” she says, reaching for his arm; he’s still clammy to the touch, and she doesn’t know much about caring for someone but she does know she shouldn’t let him sit around in his damp clothes for much longer. His jeans seem fine, but the shirt’s soaked in water and sweat, and he’s started shivering. She tugs on the hem of it, attempting to get him to focus. “Dear, you’ve got to take this off.”   He nods without looking at her, but doesn’t move.   She tries again. “Is it alright if I help you?”   Another pause, another nod, and then she kneels in front of him and carefully lifts his shirt over his head. The fabric sticks to his body in places, his muscles shaking like the movement costs him extraordinary effort. Her eyes trail down, inspecting him from a clinical angle. It’s unsettling to see a man so in-shape and well-defined unable to even stand.   “I can stand,” he says haltingly, and for a moment she fears she’d spoken aloud, but it’s rather as if clarity in some regard is returning to him. “Need...a moment.”   She rests a hand against the top of his head in an acknowledgment, straightening up, running over a checklist. She’s in survival mode, the fight side instead of flight. Fresh towels, she thinks. New shirt. Drinkable water. Bed. Company. She can handle all of those things.   She rummages through his dresser and grabs the first things she finds: a white v-neck and a pair of sweatpants. She fills a glass from the filter in the sink and sets it on his nightstand. She pulls back the covers. And then she returns to the bathroom, where he’s holding onto the counter and trying to hoist himself up.   Vex extends a hand. Percy looks at her and takes it, her fingers grasped tightly in his, and they’re both surprised to find that she can support his weight. Once he’s standing, he’s a little steadier, a little more alert; she takes one of the towels and drapes it around his neck, his shoulders, rubs the middle of his back. He lets her work, recognizing that she’s doing what’s good for him, fighting back against the impulses he has to not fight at all.   It’s another twenty minutes until she gets him in bed. He manages to change into his sweats and stops there, still shirtless, but she doesn’t push him on it. She removes her jacket, kicks off her sneakers, undoes the braid from her hair; he watches from where he’s leaning against his side table, entranced. And then, before she can talk herself out of it, she unzips her jeans and rolls them down her hips, her thighs, pulling them over her feet and off. She doesn’t have an ulterior motive; she doesn’t intend on leaving him alone and they aren’t comfortable to sleep in.   He stays silent, processing. She slips under his deep blue sheets, and says, “Come here.” She pats the space next to her as if he requires the visual reference to understand.   After a moment, he says, “This isn’t how I...imagined having you in my bed the first time.” His hesitation, she realizes, comes from regret, and not from reluctance. He’d wanted to be better, not falling apart. That had been the point.   “Percy, it’s okay,” she says gently, mirroring his own sentiment from that night on his couch back at him; it’d helped her for reasons she couldn’t explain, so maybe it’ll help him, too. “Come here.”   He moves slowly, but he comes; he sits on the edge of the bed with one foot still planted on the floor, the other knee bent, resting flat. He stares straight ahead at the dark screen of the television and says, “You don’t have to do this,” but the drugs make it much harder for him to sound convincing.   “I know,” she says, “but I want to,” and it’s not a lie.   He lifts his other leg onto the bed, but still faces forward. “Why?” he asks.   Vex bites her lip. “The same reason you’d do this for me,” she confesses, a shot not quite in the dark.   She isn’t sure why she says it. She’s kept it to herself for so long and so well, content to burn, and burn, and burn. Maybe it’s time for confirmation of something, if not the thing itself. Maybe it’s time they do what they promised to do months ago on a balcony in New York and tell the truth. Maybe it’s what he needs to hear.   It catches him off-guard, exactly enough to finally get him to turn his body and meet her eyes, and the intensity in his stare is so staggering that she forgets any thoughts following. His pupils are slightly blown but it’s him looking at her, not the ghost of a tortured boy from long before she knew him. He studies her with a clarity he doesn’t fully possess, and he seems to make a decision.   He leans in towards her, supporting his weight with a palm flat against the bed, and oh, my God, he’s going to kiss her. And even worse, she wants him to.   “Percy,” she whispers, and he’s so close she can feel him exhale against her lips. God, she wants him more than she’s ever wanted anything in her life, but she can’t. He’s playing directly into her own coping mechanisms. She understands misdirection of emotion better than anyone, and how it comes back to haunt. “If I thought it would help you, I would,” she states softly. “But I think you’d be angry with yourself, later.”   “I just want to forget,” he says, voice so small and plain it breaks her heart again and again and again. “I can’t think about it anymore, Vex. It’ll kill me.”   His elbow shakes against her, and he can’t hold himself up much longer; she wraps her arms around him, one hand cupping the back of his head, and pulls him against her like breaking against an ocean.   The way his body falls into hers is almost graceful in nature; there are no hard edges or sharp corners, just his cheek pressing against her shoulder and his torso half-resting on top of hers, legs intertwined. He shudders slightly and adjusts his arms underneath hers, holding her in an embrace that quickly turns into a quiet sort of desperation.   She lays her chin against the top of his head, running her fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp comfortingly. She asks, “Do you want to tell me about it?”   “No,” he says against her collarbone, and then, “yes.” He breathes steadily for a second, composing himself to the best of his ability. “I want you to know everything about me.”   He says, “Anna Ripley is dead.”   She says, “I know.”   He says, “I’m not, and sometimes I think that’s the problem.”   --   (He spills everything out to her, whispers in a darkened room. She holds him tightly against her and he touches her skin to keep himself grounded. Sometimes she’s there, he rambles, like I can feel her watching me, like I hear her voice in my head, telling me how proud of me she is, how I’ve done such great things, how I’ll bring about so many more. How intelligent I am. How all I need is a tragedy to make me understand that I should be shared with everyone.   Vex doesn’t bother pointing out that the rhetoric of a madwoman doesn’t make sense; he’s long since figured that out. It’s not what matters. What matters is that it was damning, shameful, blaming, celebratory. It carried an algorithm meant to break him as a person, warping his innocence into something worthy of punishment. Cassandra survived by accident, he says. She snuck out. It was supposed to be just me. Only me. It was my fault.   But it wasn’t, Vex points out, her lips above the shell of his ear. You were young and impressionable and content with your life, and that doesn’t make you a fool, or somehow responsible.   He’s hanging onto her every word, his tears hot and pooling against her shirt, body shaking with every breath. Maybe this is what he’s been building to all along, what he’s been dreaming for: someone to simply hold him and let him cry.   You’ve suffered a long time and a very great deal, she says, but you’re not alone anymore. I’m here.)   --   It’s late afternoon when Keyleth’s session ends; they’d worked hard, focusing entirely on their task at hand, and so she’d felt it inappropriate to check her phone throughout the day. It’d actually felt nice to disconnect for awhile, to be away from all the noise, the alerts, the responsibility. She leaves Percy a few doodles and comments on the script for his lines, thanks the director and assistant director, and finally powers on her phone.   She’s hit with ten missed calls, three voicemails, and about forty texts from various numbers. It takes her a second of scrolling in complete confusion before she realizes she’s being asked about Percy.   Vax is responsible for at least fifteen of the texts and two of the voicemails, so she calls him without listening to anything, her blood suddenly flooding with adrenaline. She can’t think of anything good that would force this level of contact, and she’s panicking by the time Vax answers with a visibly relieved, “Keyleth! Thank God, I haven’t been able to get ahold of anyone--”   “What’s going on?” she asks immediately, stepping out of the studio and towards the car waiting to take her home. “I haven’t been able to check my phone today, and I have all these missed calls and messages--”   “Cassandra rang me,” he says, and Keyleth stops walking mid-step, almost falling over at the unexpected twist. “She - I don’t know much, or what this all exactly means, but it’s all over the news - Anna Ripley is dead?”   Something cold pools at the base of her skull, the name alone sounds like a curse. “Anna Ripley is dead?”   “Yeah, and Cassandra was worried about Percival, so she spoke to Vex for a few minutes and Vex took off,” he says. “She should’ve been there awhile ago, but I haven’t heard from her--”   “I should’ve known,” Keyleth says blankly, getting into the car. “Shit! I should’ve known something was wrong when Percy didn’t show up for work - I thought - is he okay? Damn it!”   “Breathe, Kiki,” Vax says, and the use of his nickname for her calms her somehow. “I think Vex is with him. I haven’t heard anything to suggest otherwise.”   “Change of plans,” Keyleth says to the driver. “Drop me off at Percy’s instead, but do you mind waiting for a few minutes?”   “Not at all,” the man says with a polite nod.   “I’ll go over there and let you know,” she says into the receiver. “I should’ve been there for him.”   “Maybe,” Vax answers vaguely, “but maybe not.”   --   She doesn’t get what he means until lets herself into Percy’s apartment with her own key and finds nothing amiss.   The silence is weighted down by something, though, and it’s a strange feeling, sort of like she shouldn’t be there at all, like she’s intruding. She doesn’t call out his name; she glances between rooms, searching for signs. A bag in the living room. Kitchen cabinets open, glasses on the counter. His bedroom door is cracked slightly; she places a hand against it and peeks around--   “You can come in,” a low voice says, “but be quiet, alright, Keyleth?”   It’s Vex, stretched out in Percy’s bed, hair spilling across his pillow and his head resting against the nook of her shoulder, sleeping soundly. Her arms are around him and her eyes are red, drained, but she looks like she’s where she’s supposed to be.   “Oh,” Keyleth says quietly, observing with a restrained type of relief. “You are here. Good.”   “Cassandra called me.”   “I heard. Text your brother. He’s worried about you.”   Vex’s eyebrows raise, but lower again just as quickly with a nod of understanding. “I will.”   Keyleth doesn’t comment on the state of them; Vex’s fingers trailing up and down Percy’s bare back, her clothes strewn about the floor, the undeniable and unshakable truth of intimacy. She asks, “Is he alright?”   “He wasn’t,” Vex says, “but he will be.”   Keyleth doesn’t make a move to leave, but she doesn’t speak again, either. She hovers in the doorway, overcome and overwhelmed and jealous.   Vex says, “Whatever it is, spit it out. I won’t be offended.”   “How can you do it?” Keyleth asks, being given permission. “You just - hopped on a plane the second he needed you and - gave yourself over to him. Like, wholeheartedly. You didn’t even really know what was wrong, or what to expect, and you did it anyway. Why?”   She can’t wrap her head around it, stumbling over the building blocks, all the roads and bridges; she wants to say she’s that kind of person, too, but she also wants to know every facet of it, every secret and hidden piece.   Vex smiles sadly at her. “I think you know exactly why.”   Love is suddenly sitting in the room with them, spread out across the bed, lounging in all the chairs, filling up the sink. Vex starts, “It might be careless to you.”   “It is,” Keyleth says, “but that doesn’t mean anything.”   “People who are going to hurt you will hurt you regardless of the walls you build,” Vex says gently.   “So you shouldn’t even try?”   “I knew there was a possibility I’d end up hurt today,” Vex says. “And I was. But not by anything Percy did - by things I couldn’t protect him from.” She absentmindedly strokes his hair while she speaks. “It’s impossible to protect yourself from everything, Keyleth, but aren’t there people you hold dear who you want to protect? People who you want to keep safe, and you’d do so, without a second thought to yourself?”   “Of course.” Her eyes fall to Percy, breathing steadily, and her heart wanders to Vax. Of course she wants to keep him safe, wants him to stop torturing himself, gathering up burdens like toys.   “So doesn’t it then hold that there are people who want the same for you?” Vex says. “Percy and I - we’re fighting to protect each other, but for us, it sometimes means protecting each other from ourselves.” She hesitates before continuing. “You, on the other hand, aren’t trying to protect yourself as much as you’re simply...afraid, I think.”   “Afraid of what?”   “Losing someone,” Vex says. “You’re afraid that if you have Vax, you can also not have him, and you’re trying to convince yourself it isn’t worth it.”   “No, I--” Keyleth interrupts, and stalls, wringing her hands together. “It is worth it, but I guess - yeah, I am afraid of...knowing what it’s like to not be alone, and then have to be alone again.” She gestures to Percy, still sound asleep. “I get it with you, Vex. Like, I get the two of you have this - this deeper understanding. But Vax is...the kind of guy who runs blindly into burning buildings without even knowing if anyone is inside to save. And me - I’ll save people but I won’t die for nothing.” She grimaces. “Sorry, I know that was convoluted, I’m not the best with metaphors--”   “No, I think I understand,” Vex says, but lowers her voice notably when Percy shifts his head. “You’re afraid you’re going to lose him to - what, his own spontaneous, self-sacrificial nature? That he’ll take something on too big for him, or...”   “Something like that,” Keyleth concedes. “I feel like Vax is always - searching for the next thing to punish himself for.”   “So give him somewhere new to go,” Vex says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You don’t want him running into fire - fine. Let him run to you instead.” Keyleth frowns at the advice, because it seems like addressing part of the problem and not the whole thing. Vex continues, “He’s learning to stand up for what’s important to him, and you’ll be first on that list if you give him the chance. Keyleth, he’s devoted to you.”   “I know,” Keyleth says, because she does. “I know.”   “You’re afraid,” Vex repeats, softer. “Reasons look a lot like excuses when you whittle them down.”   “So are you,” Keyleth says, “or you would’ve told Percy already. And maybe that’s fine. Maybe it’s okay to be afraid as long as you don’t intend to let it stop you.”   “Maybe,” Vex agrees. “Do you intend to let it stop you?”   “No,” Keyleth decides. “Do you?”   “No,” she says, voice quieting, looking down at the boy in her arms. “No, I don’t.”   Keyleth rests a hand on the door frame, smiling, eyes averted away. “Good luck,” she says as she backs out of the room. “To both of us.”   --   (Keyleth leaves and the apartment is once again silent, no television hum, no running fan.   So are you. Vex hears Keyleth’s accusation like she’s still standing there, shouting it at her. Or you would’ve told him.   It isn’t that simple, she wants to say, but there’s no one left to argue with. It isn’t, it isn’t, it isn’t.   It is.   Percy has an arm slung across her waist, and his face is peaceful, dreamless. Nobody has ever seen him this exposed, vulnerable by his own choice, and he has let her in as if there were never even a lock. She touches her lips to the crown of his head.   “I should’ve told you,” she murmurs into his hair. “It’s yours.”)   --   Keyleth calls him as she slides back into the car, and Vax answers on the second ring. “Hey.”   “Hey. I saw them both,” she tells him. “They’re fine. She’ll text you soon.”   He sighs in relief. “Oh, good. Thanks, Kiki.”   “No problem,” she says, and works a fingernail in between her teeth, caught up in thought; Vex had given her a lot to contemplate. She can’t get the image of them out of her mind, curled up together, damaged and hopeful and whole. She says, “I get what you meant, by the way. When you said maybe it was good it wasn’t me who got the call.”   “Yeah?”   “Yeah,” she says, gazing at the palm trees peppering the skyline outside her window, streets flying by. She presses the tips of her fingers against the glass.   “Why?”   It’s almost wrong to say, like a confession that isn’t hers. “Because she loves him,” she says.   Vax is quiet for a moment. “I know.”   “That means something, doesn’t it.”   It’s not really a question, but he answers anyway. “Yeah,” he says wistfully. “It does.”   --   When Percy drowsily stirs from sleep, he’s disoriented and sluggish and not quite sure where he is, but he’s pressed up against something warm and alive, breathing slowly.   He blinks his eyes open into a mess of dark hair and the dim glow of a phone screen; painted blue nails tap out a message just above his shoulder, and then a hand drops, stroking up and down his arm as if it’s out of habit.   It doesn’t hit him all at once - it passes over him slowly, like waves that foam at the tip and never quite crash. Vex. Vex hovering over him, holding him. Vex leading him to bed. He becomes acutely aware of his left arm, tucked between their bodies, hand laying against her bare thigh. Vex’s face, getting closer and closer--   He sighs against her collarbone, and she stills, setting her phone down. She whispers, “Percy?”   “Mm,” is all he can make out, groggily trying to pull himself out of it. He lifts his head carefully, and with a groan, immediately drops it onto his pillow and off of her shoulder, sliding onto his back.   She mirrors him by rolling onto her side, one hand on his chest, eyes tracing his face. “Are you - awake?” she tries again. “Are you alright?”   “Yes,” he says, and after a period of stillness, reaches blindly for his glasses sitting on the nightstand, almost knocking over the water in the process. “Just...out of sorts.”   She’s silent as he lifts himself up, angling his back against the headboard. He takes a moment to blink against the sudden clarity of his vision, shaking his head lightly, like it’s full of loose parts, metal rattling around. He grips the glass of water and she tracks his movements sharply, the bob of his throat as he drinks, his muscles flexing.   He won’t keep her waiting any longer, no matter the oppression of his lethargy. He says, “I owe you an explanation,” setting the glass back down.   “Alright,” she says, put a little more at ease after hearing him speak.   “I had a - panic attack,” he says tentatively. “It was...the worst I’ve had, I think, ever. And I couldn’t remember...if I’d taken my medication. So I kept taking it without realizing. I couldn’t - I couldn’t see, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t hear.” He clears his throat, sparing her a short glance and down. “I wasn’t trying to--”   “I know,” Vex interrupts so he doesn’t have to say it. “I - had the thought, briefly, but I somewhat figured it out.”   “I’m sorry,” he tells her plainly, spreading his fingers, palms facing up and then contorting into fists.   “You don’t have to apologize,” she says, but she sits up and she’s close again, almost against his side, and he thinks of how he almost destroyed them both.   “No, I do,” he says, and reaches up, taking her chin in his hand gently. It’s not the time for shame. “I shouldn’t have tried to...kiss you. You did the right thing.”   Her teeth tug on her bottom lip, and she exhales in breath shorter than it should be. She says unsteadily, “I almost let you.”   “I know,” he answers softly, and his hand drifts to her hair, wrapping a curl around his fingers.   She releases her bottom lip and it’s red, slightly swollen. She looks at him from under her eyelashes, and he suddenly is hit with what she’s implicating. She says, “Percy, I was so close. I almost - I almost ruined this with you.”   “But you didn’t,” he says, and senses the need for weightlessness. “And thus, I’m here, awake and coherent and perfectly capable of stopping you from jumping me, should your unhealthy method of handling stress rear its head again.”   At that, she finally laughs, angling her neck and resting her cheek against the palm of his hand. “Well, in that case…” she trails off dryly. Her eyes are shining and her heart is still frantic, fluttering. “Now I’m convinced you’re feeling a bit better.”   He observes her casually for a moment, as if from a great distance, finding the cracks. “Do you want to talk about it?”   “This isn’t about me,” she says.   “It can be about us both,” he says. “I’ve had my time. Please, distract me.”   She pulls the sheet back up over his hips, aware of how little she’s wearing, and hunches over her knees. Her hair flows down her spine, against her shoulders, curling and wild. She starts slowly, “I haven’t actually - acted on it as much as it seems like I have. I don’t just...fuck people. But for awhile after - after Syldor - I’d seek it out, you know, the detachment, the roughness. I didn’t know how to...feel anything else. And I’d remember that I was real and that I was - desireable, I guess.” She’s leaning closer to him without realizing it, drawing comfort and stability from his presence. “But with you...it’s different. I won’t say I don’t want you to want me, because I do, but when I look at you--” she breaks off suddenly, her thought losing its way. She struggles momentarily and says, “I want you to be real.” There’s a long pause populated by only the two of them staring at each other. “And I want to know that - there’s a difference between using someone, and someone...caring about you.”   He watches her with eyes that never judge and a body that simply listens; he doesn’t ask for more than she’s giving, and he doesn’t pull her closer. He merely strokes her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, and then says, “Thank you for telling me.”   “I want you to know everything about me,” she echoes, aching for reasons she can’t comprehend.   “I want you,” he says bluntly. “I didn’t - return the sentiment before, but I do, Vex. How could I not?” He brushes over her bottom lip, still red, like it’s beckoning him. “But more than that, I don’t want to hurt you. And I want to be the person who shows you the difference between - being used, and something with - real emotion as the motivation.”   Vex smiles, genuine and quiet, something reserved for only him to see, and says, “As long as we’re on the same page.”   “We are,” he says. “And as for me - I’ll tell you the rest when I’m ready. When I know how I feel about - her - and why I feel it, you’ll be the first person I’ll come to. Or second, depending on when I meet with my therapist.”   “I’m flattered,” she teases without malice.   “First, then,” he replies decisively, kidding. “After all, she probably didn’t even bother to call. You flew across state lines. There’s a clear winner.”   “Charming.” She rolls her eyes at the bravado, and then, sensing the need for distance - not from each other, but from their problems - she says, “Well, it’s almost six and I’m famished.” She gathers her hair at the nape of her neck and ties it into a sloppy bun. “Thai alright with you?”   She slips out of bed, facing away from him, and she can almost feel his gaze fall to her ass. She turns and smirks over her shoulder at him, and he flushes, unable to avert his eyes in time.   He says, “Erm.”   “What,” she says, “never seen an attractive woman in her underwear before, Percival?”   “Not that I can ever remember,” he says stupidly, like he’s just letting whatever words he has stockpiled in his mouth fall out of it.   “Well, I wouldn’t want to be a distraction,” she says nonchalantly, and opens his first drawer, remembering where his clothes are organized from her earlier search. They’re mostly boxer briefs, but she finds a navy pair of boxes with white dots on them and slips them on, rolling them over her hips. “Do you have a normal delivery place, or should I Google it?”   He’s speechless for a solid thirty seconds - she’s left the room entirely and is standing in the kitchen with her phone when he finally appears from the hallway behind her.   “Good God, woman,” he says, shaking his head. “I guess it’s true what they say about rock stars.”   “I’d suppose similar things are said about movie stars,” she shoots back, grinning, and even though they’re both exhausted, emotionally drained and bodies bruised instead of broken, the world feels conquerable.   --   Percival @PercivaldeRolo · 36m Like Real People Do - Hozier https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrleydRwWms   aya @suntree · 25m um _______________________________________ Percival @PercivaldeRolo Like Real People Do - Hozier https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrleydRwWms   vex’ildan Retweeted Percival @PercivaldeRolo · 48m Like Real People Do - Hozier https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrleydRwWms   aya @suntree · 7m Replying to @imvexthatsvax @PercivaldeRolo UM   --   (She’s leaning on her elbows against his kitchen island, one foot kicked over her other ankle, scrolling through her phone. She’s since put on his sweater while waiting for their food to be delivered, and as he approaches from the hallway, freshly showered and fully clothed, he hears the song he’d tweeted playing through her speakers.   She doesn’t hear him coming, but straightens her spine, adjusting her weight between feet. He steps up behind her, chest pressed against her back, and places his hands flat against the marble, arms on either side of her body. She starts slightly, arching her neck, and he realizes just how much taller he is, how easily he envelopes this lithe woman in front of him. He thinks about being somebody bigger, not in size but in spirit, in heart. Somebody who can keep her safe.   He doesn’t speak for a moment, letting her settle comfortably into him. Finally, he lowers his lips to the shell of her ear and murmurs, “Thank you.”   She rests the back of her head against his shoulder and the music plays on.)

[darrilshrugs-blog]

If I Could, I Would, Let it Go

It makes sense to Percy to have words left to say to a lost friend. This isn’t about the words, but how to say them.

Everyone is writing great stuff wherein characters talk to Vax after he’s gone. I’ve read whatever I can, and they’re great. Thanks to the people who wrote them.

Title from the song “Bad” by U2, which gives this old person Vax & Vox Machina feelings.

I have been rolling around in my head a whole mess of things about Percy and Vax and how one would feel about losing the other, how intertwined they are by their deep relationships with the same people, and how things were forever changed in the span of a few moments in one place.

However, I may be as emotionally confused and constipated as Percy, so it’s better that stuff stay in a bad draft somewhere.

I.

It all becomes too much. Too much. He’s so happy. Utterly happy and fulfilled. His life is good, and yet he has found himself with too many words that he never had a chance, nor the courage, to say.

One of his promises to Vex when they wed had been 'no more secrets'. So, he told her that he had things he had to say to her brother. That saying them in his head no longer seemed enough. She had asked, (with a tease in her tone and on her lips, even in this charged moment), if he had been silently praying to Vax. He had taken his time, to try to best explain himself. Knowing him as well as she did, she listened.

It wasn’t prayer, he didn’t believe, but things left unsaid that he no longer wanted unsaid; that he planned to do something about it, and was it a fair thing for him to ask her to be there when he said them? No more secrets, after all.

She had looked up at him, from where she played on the floor of their bedroom with their daughter. Her face was a little fuller than normal, as she was far into their second pregnancy. Her emotions had run a bit closer to the surface lately, but her response was measured, giving his concerns their appropriate weight. She told him that she would be there, believed it would be good for him, and that Vax always appreciated honesty.

Her voice began to break a little as she spoke, but she was able to smile through it at the end.

II.

On the day, they steppeded out into the early winter morning. His eyes watered almost immediately from the cold wind, despite his glasses.

The shrine remained much as it had since he had commissioned Zhara with establishing it. The former crypt was tucked amongst tree and brush, and stood in a patch of quiet, despite not being far from the now-bustling city. He came here with Vex whenever she asked, and sat on the bench a few yards away. She settled in there now, their daughter tight to her chest under her coat. It was a place he had grown to like, in spite of itself - there was a serenity here.

He planned to stand outside, and address the shrine itself, and the ever-present ravens. If they heard and understood him, and in some way bore his message, wonderful. If they just stared at his foolishness with their dark intelligence, so be it.

He had promised himself to never again enter the shrine. He was through dealing with gods, devils and demons. He would not break his promise, so he would not open, or even touch the doors. Though he felt with all of his being that he had to do something - to speak the thoughts aloud and make them known in the world - he was aware that this whole gesture, despite its gravity, was going to likely look insane or foolish. He wasn't going to further push things in that direction by opening the doors and shouting to the inside.

He was not afraid. He had not promised to never again enter the shrine because he was afraid. He did not wish to ever enter the shrine again because he knew he would become angry. Angry at the dark goddess, at himself, at Vax, at fate. He did not want to be angry anymore. Anger was not what this was about.

III.

Percival de Rolo stands, swallows, and says nothing. He has organized his thoughts, he knows generally what he wants to say, but nothing comes.

This is wrong.

Not the entire project, but this approach to it. This is not way to do this, nor is it the proper place for him to do so. This place has too much of the patron in it, and not enough of the man to whom his words are addressed. There is a more proper venue.

He apologizes to his wife, and tells her his new plan. If she is at all put out with him, with being outside, and the prospect of a further walk, she doesn’t say.

He takes their child, and they walk together. They reach the rough bench in the woods, and the three of them get properly seated and wrapped up, warm in coats and blankets. Trinket, ever present when the youngest de Rolo is out of the house, no matter who she is with, pitches himself at his mistresses’ feet, providing additional warmth.

Percy sits, with the proof of his happiness. He is in the place and with the people who mean the most to him in the world. He begins.

“Thank you, Vax’ildan. Thank you.”