#stellaescriptum

[wickedpeachie]

@stellaescriptum Asked :[ LAZY ]: sender concedes to receiver's requests for a piggy-back ride home because they don't want to walk anymore, and carries them the rest of the distance home.

"Fjord! My feet are literally going to fall off" Jester lays against the tree, the back of her hand resting against her forehead. "I pinky promise that I just need you to carry me for like, f i v e minutes" Her hand springs up from her forehead, wiggling all fingers as if it is enough to convince him. When he kneels down in acceptance, Jester practically pounced onto his back. "Ah~ That is so much better" A laugh spills from her lips once he begins walking again, something like triumph expressed on her features. "Five minutes, swear" She teased, her head resting down against his shoulders.

[feuerwizard]

@stellaescriptum asked: "[ underwater ] a kiss shared while submerged in water" // different ways to kiss promps;; open

The vast, unending expanse of the ocean has never truly felt like home to Caleb, not like Fjord, who seems to thrive in its depths. But as the months have passed, even the human cannot deny the beauty and allure of the endless blue waters. The gentle ebb and flow of the waves, the salty tang of sea air, and constant call of seagulls. Serendipitously, his arrival to visit Fjord is perfectly timed. His ship docked at the harbor near Bisaft, granting him and Fjord a chance to visit the beach.

And with Fjord by his side during their beach venture, Caleb takes a deep breath and submerges himself fully into the cool water. His ginger hair, usually neat and orderly behind his head, becomes wild and untamed in the waves. The saltwater gently stings his eyes, but he doesn't mind as he opens them to take in the tranquil blue world below. With what breath he has left, he swims towards Fjord and plants a tender kiss on his temple before surfacing for air.

[feuerwizard]

@stellaescriptum <3

"I've been counting my stars, cause I will spend my whole life loving you."

Happy new years :)

[refjorged]

STELLAESCRIPTUM > REFJORGED

[feuerwizard]

for @stellaescriptum || fjord & caleb

Over the past few weeks, Caleb has become quite comfortable with Zadash—a strange feeling for someone like him, who has spent the last five years of his life on the run, scrambling to survive. And now… now he finds himself amongst a group of people whom he considers friends (or at least, potential friends.) He has a warm bed to sleep in and even some gold in his coat pocket. The feeling of stability, despite the immense danger and recent loss of a new friend, is almost uncomfortable.

For the past few days, Fjord has been conspicuously absent from the group. Simply mounted a horse and rode off without a word to anyone, leaving the others (Jester) to wonder where he had gone. Just as suddenly as he had left, he returned, acting as though nothing significant had occurred during his absence. They were leaving for the coast soon, and Caleb suspected that Fjord's sudden retreat had something to do with the letter he found. The very same letter that was now the reason for their journey to the coast in the first place. But it was not his place to pry, so he didn’t.

With Fjord's return, the half-orc readily agreed to accompany Caleb on a final round of shopping before they left the city, gathering necessary travel supplies as well as necessary spell components for Caleb. The bustling marketplace was alive with vendors calling out their wares, the tempting smell of freshly baked goods wafting through the air. Luckily, Jester was not with them to make them stop for pastries. “How would you feel about a drink? I'm a bit tired of shopping.”

[feuerwizard]

@stellaescriptum asked: "[lonely] sender finds receiver alone in a dark room + reverse)" // 100 nonverbal prompts;; open

The events of the last few days weigh heavily upon Caleb's mind as he struggles to find sleep. His exhaustion is tangible, his body feeling like a heavy rock against the bed beneath him. But with every shift and sway of the boat, he grows increasingly nauseous. A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he slowly sits up on the edge of his bed. He rubs his hands over his face, feeling the stubble on his chin. Across the room, Nott's body is fast asleep, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. With cautious steps, he makes his way out of the cabin and onto the deck of the ship.

The cool, salty night air hits Caleb like a wave as he steps onto the wooden deck. The constant creaking of old wood and the rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore. He had expected to be alone up here, but his footsteps seem to echo loudly in the empty space, causing Fjord to twist his head around in Caleb's direction.

Of course, it’s Fjord, Caleb thinks to himself. He unconsciously runs his finger over the tender wound across his hand, a cut from mere hours earlier. One that matches Fjord’s. With careful and calculated steps, he moves closer to the half-orc who stands upon the edge of the ship, his figure silhouetted against the vast expanse of ocean that glistens under a star-studded night sky. “Can’t sleep either?”

[feuerwizard]

she actually might murder me for posting this but my best friend in the entire universe is dipping her toes into the tumblr rpc for the first time... soooo all of my star wars and critical role mutuals should give her a nice welcome! she is still finishing mighty nein for the first time, but she is a very lovely writer // @stellaescriptum

if you guys don't hear from me it's because i've murdered for this shoutout lol

[feuerwizard]

The wizard looks down, fiddling with the edge of his tattered coat as Fjord's words settle heavily between them. He knows the half-orc means well, but the mention of the Academy dredges up memories better left burned and buried. "It's fine," Caleb says after a long moment, though his voice trails off, attempting to appear neutral. “You did not bring up anything.” Experience with lying brought on by years of concealing the scars of his past, though they still ache from time to time.

Nein, they ache every day.

“It is difficult to get into that school,” he notes, circling the conversation back around, “though not impossible… or so I’ve heard. The letter Jester had written for you will help.” Though many things have changed for all of them in recent weeks, the death of a companion and a kidnapping will certainly paint a new perspective.

“But if I am honest, I’m surprised to hear you are still focused on the Academy. You seem, ah, a bit distracted with following this other thread.” Fjord wants to go to the coast to chase this letter, the complete opposite direction of the Academy.

It doesn’t take a practiced level of perception for Fjord to notice the way Caleb stiffens and casts his eyes low. The wizard’s posture curls in, like he wants to protect himself. Fjord swallows awkwardly, unsure of what to do but take a chug of his refilled ale before speaking again.

“If they’ll even accept me,” he tries to shrug, like it doesn’t matter much. “I know I'm playin’ with sketchy chances.”

The last thing the half-orc wants to do is make his friend uncomfortable — even if he seems to have accomplished that already. (Good going, Stone.) He makes a point of clearing his throat and tilts his head toward Caleb. It takes a moment for the other man to catch his gaze.

“Listen, I didn’t meant to…” Fjord’s fingers curl tightly around his tankard as he speaks, unsure of what to say exactly. He’s seen Caleb go brittle like this before, in other situations. It rubs him wrong to know this time is his fault. “Bring up anything sensitive. Just ignore me.”

[feuerwizard]

The wizard gives a slight nod at Fjord's offer for another round. The ale has left his head feeling pleasantly fuzzy, loosening his tongue a little more than usual, though not by much. He knows he should be more guarded with the half-orc, this mysterious companion to their little band of misfits. Though Caleb supposes, he is not any less mysterious by comparison.

"No hurry indeed," he agrees, wrapping thin, half-gloved fingers around the fresh tankard as the barmaid delivers their refills. "Though the others will wonder, I am sure, if we linger here too long without them." He takes a long draught of the ale before setting it down upon the table.

It is nice, for a moment, until Caleb stiffens almost imperceptibly at the mention of the Academy.

And a flood of memories rushes through his mind, of his days as a promising student within those hallowed halls. The excitement of discovery, the joy of learning. And then, the pain. The regret. Memories of things done in the name of the Empire, things that could never be undone.

As he gazes into his ale, Caleb's mind drifts to a young Bren—full of hope and ambition, but also naive and vulnerable. He cannot help but wonder what his life would have been like if he had never crossed paths with Trent Ikithon, the man who molded him into something so dangerous.

Caleb’s eyes stay low, fidgeting with the handle of his drink. “I’m sure the Academy will teach you many things,” his voice trails off, attempting to appear neutral.

“Yeah,” Fjord sighs, staring down into the last dregs of his ale. “I think I’m starting to learn that.”

It would help if he could remember anything from his drowning experience. Clearly something happened under the waves that left him… different than before, but all he has to go on now are a mysterious sword and bizarre dreams. If his new abilities are in fact granted by some deity… what does it want ?

The half-orc peers across the table and notices that his companion’s flagon is quickly depleting as well. “One more ?” he offers, and waves a signal to the barmaid across the dim space. “Not like we’re in a hurry.”

Fjord finds himself wishing, as usual, that Vandran was still around. It seems that keeping people in his life is never much in the cards for Fjord, though. The best he can do is search for scraps of information that might lead to Sabian (and beyond). And maybe… maybe Caleb would be willing to help him, too. Or at least share some

He looks up at his wizard friend with a tiny smirk, clocking the comment slipped among the warnings. “You really think it’s impressive ? My… ?” he trails off with raises eyebrows and a wiggling gesture of his fingers, indicating magic. That’s damn rich, coming from their group’s resident expert of the arcane. Still, he warms inside at the kindness.

“Just wait until I get to the Academy.” The quip comes with a self-deprecating huff, like he doesn’t quite believe it himself. At the same time, though, he turns a hopeful gaze toward the other man.

Does he think I can do it ?

[feuerwizard]

Caleb's frown only deepens at Fjord's words, his brows knitting together in concern. "No, Fjord. You did not bring any of this upon yourself." His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. "Avantika was manipulating all of us from the start. She took advantage of your desire to understand your powers.” To find a place to belong.

“That is not your fault."

He straightens up from the railing, turning to face Fjord fully. His hands itch to reach out, to offer some physical comfort in a manner that surprises even him, but he holds back. Oh Widogast, you are growing soft. And dissociating like that, Caleb knows it is a defense mechanism. The mind attempting to protect itself from trauma.

Caleb knows that feeling all too well himself. The numbness, the detachment, watching yourself go through the motions as if from outside your own body. It is a coping mechanism he is intimately familiar with.

“The guilt lies with her and her alone." Blue eyes search yellow, imploring Fjord to believe his words. “And us, admittedly.”

Fjord opens his mouth to reply, but stops short at the look on Caleb’s face. The wizard is normally so guarded, with his haunted expressions and quiet secrecy. This is different, though. Trusting. Even in the darkened moonlight, the blue of Caleb's eyes glitter with intensity.

“Yeah. I know that.”

Does he, though ? Traveling with the Nein is the closest thing Fjord can compare to having a family. Still, the sour taste of guilt floods his mouth at the reminder of his own kept secrets. “I’m… workin’ on it too.” The syllables trip over his tongue, thick with Vandran’s drawl.

“When I was… with her,” The half-orc begins, turning his face to stare down at the deck. “It was like watching myself through a window. Like... my body was there, but I was far away.” It still feels like that when he tries to recall the hours spent in her cabin. “Some parts are just a blur.” In the crook of a folded elbow, he presses his claws to the wound on his palm. The sensation is oddly grounding.

“Not that you asked," he fumbles out, trying for a lighter tone. "I just mean... no harm done. And nothin’ to be sorry for. ‘Specially with the way I…” When he glances up again, Caleb is arching an eyebrow. His expression is skeptical, but patient. Fjord shrugs awkwardly, feeling heat gather in his face. “…Brought it on myself.”

[feuerwizard]

More like Jester’s.

The human listens intently as Fjord speaks of his old captain's abilities, nodding along. His half-orc companion is correct, both Jester and Fjord access their magic much differently than his arcane prowess. Power granted through devotion and bargains rather than study and mastery of the Weave itself, though Jester’s magic is more divine in nature, as opposed to what Caleb has witnessed from Fjord. Regardless, he does not correct Fjord.

Caleb takes a sip of ale, mulling over Fjord's words. “None of it has been easy, Fjord,” he says after a moment. Faith and the divine have always been rather elusive to him these days. He does not believe in anything anymore, much less a deity, there is not much faith to be found in books. And while he still has much to learn of Fjord, he suspects his companion’s relationship with his abilities is less faith and more, well, a pact. Though a part of him burns with curiosity, Caleb pushes down the urge to pry further. He knows all too well the perils of meddling with forces beyond one's ken.

Instead, he offers Fjord a small, sympathetic expression. "Whatever the source, you wield it impressively… but power always comes with a cost. Be sure it is one you are willing to pay." Caleb's hand travels across his unshaven face, feeling the roughness of his stubble as he recalls the chaotic morning when Fjord suddenly woke up, spitting out seawater all across their camp.

It’s not meant to be a funny question, but it brings a dry chuckle out of Fjord. “Ja,” he echoes — not mocking (never mocking) Caleb’s Zemnian lilt but rather affirming the insight. “Pretty new.”

He glances briefly around the bar, where the crusty regulars continue to ignore them. Still, he keeps his voice low. (Until he knows more about the strange path laid out for him, there’s no sense inviting unnecessary risks.) Across the table, his wizard friend nods understandingly. The sun is beginning to dip as the afternoon winds down, casting firelight shadows in the man’s hair through the windows of the dim tavern. Fjord ponders opening up a bit, if only to see what he can learn.

If only to Caleb. He knows about these things.

“I mean, the shit you can do…” Fjord begins, turning a wry grin at the other man as he reaches for his drink again. “You make it look so easy.” Like a chef and his ingredients. From across the table he sees Caleb raise an eyebrow, almost inviting him to continue. Fjord has never been much of a talker, but after his journey alone there’s just too much swirling around in his head.

And besides, his ale is going down fast. He taps the side of his mug with shortened claws. “My old captain was like that, too. But his magic was… different. More like Jester’s.”

[feuerwizard]

Caleb looks up at Fjord, squinting against the glare of the sun behind his silhouette. He takes a moment to fully appreciate the defined muscles that greet him as the half-orc stands shirtless, water droplets amongst green skin. A fond smile curls his lips as he takes the proffered hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Sand clings to his trousers, but a quick cantrip banishes the grains back to the beach.

"Alternatively," he offers, "I was fortunate enough to catch you docked and we could enjoy what cuisine Bisaft has to offer?" His stomach growls at the thought of fresh seafood, a luxury that is not found on the landlocked Rexxentrum. And he cannot help but feel guilty over Fjord using precious resources dedicated to him and his crew on Caleb’s behalf. This is a good compromise.

“If you are… okay with it, of course,” he clarifies quickly, “and I was hoping to stay the evening with you? I do not have enough energy to return to Rexxentrum tonight.”

A fond expression crosses Fjord’s features as he watches the wizard make his way back to the sand with long, graceful strokes. Caleb has only gotten more comfortable in the water since he’s been visiting more frequently, and it warms something in him to see his partner enjoy something he loves so much.

The fair-skinned human has a point, though — it’s a hot, cloudless day and the sun is high in the afternoon sky. A chuckle rumbles in Fjord’s chest as he watches Caleb prestidigitate the water from his body and plop under a tree with his book. The half-orc hasn’t quite had his fill of the sea yet, so he dives toward the reef below in search of what there is to see.

About an hour later, the sun is finally beginning to dip toward the horizon. It will be evening soon, and Fjord is terribly eager to spend it tucked up with Caleb in his cottage. He kicks toward the shore and staggers up onto the sand, tracking wet prints in the man’s direction. Caleb only looks up -- attention diverted from the riveting pages of whatever he’d reading -- when Fjord’s shadow darkens his space.

“I think I’ll head in and get dinner started.” He extends a hand, wiggling clawed fingers as an invitation. “Care to join me ?”

[feuerwizard]

The human frowns at Fjord's attempt to brush it off, seeing through the half-smile that does not quite reach his eyes. "That does not make it right," he counters softly. And he lets out a long breath, seeming to deflate slightly as some of the tension leaves his scrawny frame. He leans more heavily against the railing, eyes cast downward to the sea.

Perhaps… perhaps just this once, he could allow himself some honesty.

“I know none of this has been easy for you. Learning to control your new abilities, dealing with… her." Caleb's tone turns bitter on the last word. "We took advantage of the situation, of you. And for that, I am sorry. You are our friend, Fjord, and you deserve better than to be used as a means to an end."

He pauses, gathering his thoughts, the wood grain of the railing digging into his arms. "I suppose I still have more to learn when it comes to… people. Trusting them. Trusting you."

Caleb glances up to meet Fjord's gaze, the expression behind blue eyes sincere, a sincerity that is typically reserved for Nott and Nott alone. "But I am trying. We all are. And I hope you know—truly know—that you can trust us in return."

This is their… family now.

Fjord blinks in something like surprise at the sudden introduction of the subject. It’s the last thing he expects Caleb to be thinking about right now, let alone apologize for. The clear sky allows moonlight to bounce off the waves, casting the wizard’s expression in high-contrast shadows that only make him look more aggrieved.

What does Fjord even say to that ?

“It wasn’t… uh…”

A lurch of dread rises in his gut along with the memories of the past few days. He’s been running on adrenaline and determination, without a lot of time to really think about it. But Caleb — clever Caleb — never misses anything, does he ? With a sigh, the half-orc turns his back against the ship railing and folds his arms over his chest. 

It’s not an angry posture (he’s long since spent his energy for that), but a slightly protective one. They may be the only souls above deck right now, but he shifts close enough to speak in a low, quiet tone. “It wasn’t that bad. I… I knew why it was important.“

And truthfully, hearing his wizard companion express regret only makes Fjord feel stupider for allowing everything to unfold the way it did. He tries to shrug as he meets Caleb's eyes again, offering a smile that doesn't quite reach his own. "Rather it be me in a position like that anyway."

[feuerwizard]

Fjord's evasive response piques Caleb's interest even further, though he does not press the issue. It's clear the half-orc is reluctant to discuss whatever had prompted his sudden disappearance, and Caleb knows better than to pry into another's private affairs, lest they pry in his. Instead, he latches onto Fjord's redirect about his spell components, "Nein, not necessarily. I can still hurt someone with a cantrip. But without the proper materials, it becomes much more difficult to cast more powerful spells."

The wizard taps the component pouch at his side. "Like a cook in the kitchen, you have to gather ingredients before you can prepare the meal.” Or so they say, Caleb has always been a horrid cook. He takes another swig of ale, savoring the cool bitterness washing over his tongue. In the dim tavern, shadows play across the planes of Fjord's contemplative expression. Caleb studies him a moment longer, then decides to take a gamble.

“This is new to you then, ja? Magic.” He is not typically a fan of making assumptions, but Fjord’s questions make it easy to do so. When they first met, he recalls the half-orc mentioning his desire to attend the Soltryce Academy. Caleb's demeanor immediately shifted, becoming guarded and evasive as they discussed the topic. Only Beauregard and Nott were privy to Caleb's past experiences at the academy, and he is unsure if it would align with Fjord's current pursuits.

It is not what Fjord thinks it is.

Fjord swallows thickly and glances down at the table, considering his answer for a long moment. He should’ve expected the question, given the way he up and disappeared on the rest of the Nein. It doesn’t make the words come any easier, though. The half-orc shrugs and tries to keep his demeanor relaxed.

“Didn’t get as far as I planned.”

In hindsight, it was probably foolish to attempt the journey alone. Fjord isn’t an impulsive guy, and knows he shouldn’t have let the others worry. But he isn’t one to sit around, either — especially not with a potential clue in his search.

“Wasn’t really sure what I was lookin’ for, anyway.”

By Caleb’s expression, he can tell that his answer was not informative whatsoever. (Not that it was meant to be.) The wizard looks sympathetic, though, and that is definitely not something Fjord needs right now. To explain his situation — the crystal, the letter, the reasons he wants to head for the coast — would take more time than Caleb probably had patience for. Besides, the half-orc barely understands it himself.

Instead, he takes a prolonged chug of his ale and jerks his chin toward the pouch now concealed at the man’s side. “So if you didn’t have any of that stuff, and we ran into trouble…” (As they tend to do, quite often…) “You’d be shit outta luck ?”

[feuerwizard]

Caleb's breath inhales as Fjord's lips trace a path along his neck, the sensation amplified by the cool water lapping at their skin. He tightens his hold on Fjord's shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscles there. "You are around this all of the time," he murmurs, gesturing to the ocean surrounding them, voice barely audible over the gentle crash of waves.

Despite his teasing words, he knows good and well Fjord is referring to sharing the sea with him, his presence making all of the difference from a trip to the beach alone. “As nice as this is, I am going to get a sunburn if I stay out much longer.” Caleb raised his arm, revealing the expanse of pale, freckled skin that stretched down to his fingertips. With a sly expression, he playfully flicked salt water towards Fjord's face, causing him to burst into laughter and let go of Caleb's form.

“I will be on the beach whenever you’re finished, Kapitän.” A gentle smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he ducks beneath the water's surface, swimming towards the shore.

Fjord can feel the way his features crinkle up with an affectionate smile as he watches Caleb kick away and break the surface. He breathes out a happy sigh, bubbles streaming from his nose and mouth that also help to sink himself a bit deeper. When his feet hit the soft sand of the sea floor, he pushes himself up toward the wizard at full speed and wraps his arms around Caleb’s middle, surfacing like a predator with its prize.

Naturally the maneuver earns him a flail of limbs and a confused shout, but Caleb’s arms quickly find their place around Fjord’s shoulders as they begin to tread water together. The half-orc only smiles harder and leans in to plant a kiss of his own to his lover’s forehead.

“Missed you,” he rumbles low in the space between them, ducking closer to Caleb’s ear and holding him a bit tighter. His lips press again to the hinge of the man’s jaw, and then underneath to a delicate pulse point, savoring the tang of saltwater with his wizard’s soft skin. “Missed this.”

[feuerwizard]

Caleb does not respond right away, his gaze cast out over the moonlit sea as his thoughts churn. “Ja, I’m alright,” he answers, “we are all alive and I would argue that is a positive outcome.” The past few days have been a harrowing experience for all of them, filled with moments that left him questioning if they would even survive.

Blue eyes drift down to Fjord's green-skinned hand, lingering on the fresh scar. Perhaps his companion’s question concern has more to do with that elephant on deck. Caleb steps closer, leaning his arms against the railing. The wood feels rough under his covered skin.

Truthfully, Caleb's thoughts on the events of earlier today are few and far between. He feels no regret for assisting Fjord, even at the expense of his own blood. Rather, he is more concerned over how Fjord is handling the weight of recent experiences. The weight of it all hangs heavily in the air, like a thick fog that refuses to dissipate.

“Listen, Fjord,” he sighs heavy and remorseful, “I wanted to… apologize for the uncomfortable position we have all put you in. I grew a bit, ah, single-minded in handling the Avantika situation, that I never stepped back to consider how it would affect you.” How asking their friend to compromise himself for them may not have been the best solution.

Fjord wills down a startled jolt at the approach of footsteps, relaxing a bit further as Caleb’s form emerges from the shadows. With the others long asleep under the deck, he expected to be alone — but the wizard’s presence is far from unwelcome. Caleb’s face is darkly lined in the moonlight, betraying a tiredness that Fjord feels in his bones.

“Don’t think I could if I tried.”

The half-orc turns fully toward his friend — (does that word suffice, now ?) — and leans heavily on the railing of the deck. His palm pulses with the dull ache of healing, and he can imagine Caleb’s does as well. As the other man draws closer, the looping memories of the past few days only intensify in his mind.

“That was… a lot,” Fjord puts forth in a stilted tone. He adds a huff meant for some lightness, but it only comes out like a sigh. “I didn’t mean to…”

His brow tightens, shortened claws curling lightly over tender skin. (‘Don’t do too much,’ he’d instructed Caduceus while the exhausted firbolg hovered around him. ‘Some scarring is fine.’)

“…Are you alright ?”

Fjord knows that Jester did a thorough job checking Caleb for injuries. That isn’t exactly what he means, though. It was damn near impossible to ignore the other man’s reactions to his own fire spells — the ones that saved them — and then the way he let Caleb shed his own blood.