#this is not orym changing his mind

[ittybittyremy]

"While all this is happening, Orym has gone full shell shock mode. He's not talking anymore. He's going to go slump down onto a rock and is listening to all the debating at this point and he doesn't know what to do. He's been so sure for so long, and doesn't know what to do. Going in feels so wrong to him. But he hears the logic that it's only a matter of time before someone or something, a day from now, a year from now, six months from now. And just let's them figure it out, because he's took all his energy to make it to this point."

- Liam, C3E118

[acebabecd]

"How dare Orym be angry and constantly bring up his murdered loved ones whenever people act like their deaths were acceptable collateral, he needs to get over it and listen to others for once!" Is it crack? Is that what you smoke?

[cringefaecompilation]

this is why i can't get behind orym criticisms that say he "doesn't engage with the themes of the campaign" ever. because he does, he's emblematic of a person who thinks that it's his fault for not being devout enough. not to a god, though! just to duty.

he clearly only supports the gods because he's projecting his failure of being a good soldier by letting people he loved die under his watch and thinks if he does the same for the gods he can prove himself worthy. that's why he's so stubborn and refuses to stop bringing it up; he sees it as a massive black mark on HIM as a person and if there is no threat of divine punishment (or any punishment period) then what is the point of him?

the problem is he's working under keyleth. no fucking way in hell is the rest of the cast going to start saying keyleth sucks outside of jokes because they will never EVER throw a bone to the misogynist nutcases that hated her. and the whole god debate was never treated as something personal that reflected on the character's beliefs or view of themselves with the exception of fcg.

and i want him to get better on his own terms! and he was making progress on that before vasselheim! he can do it, but the way liam is going about it is so reminiscent of an unhealthy coping mechanism i can't even hate him for it. it just depresses me. is this stupid to think about a fictional character this way? maybe but fuck it i am.

to sum up my only negative feelings on orym: compared to the rest of them he feels super disjointed as a character because he gets amazing moments with the party when they're interacting as a whole. life-changing one-on ones! but every time he gets the idea of one thing just for him he walks away every time so nobody else will see it or only react to it after the fact. we're never gonna get a "shardgate into feywild retreat into fearne titan-ing" moment from him and i really think that sucks!

which okay, sure could be intentional since he preferred to be on the sidelines his entire life and is solidly Just There but that doesn't make it any less bizarre a character choice/bit to keep white-knuckle gripping onto over 100 episodes in. like he isn't a shitty character in the slightest nor do i think liam's roleplay is boring but COMPARATIVELY. comparatively i don't get why he's dedicating himself to being so low-key in solo moments when everyone else in the party is doing the roleplay equivalent of poppers with their characters when they get the same chance

[astralleywright]

i have made the "orym read theory" joke like three times today alone but. i think it would genuinely be very helpful for him to develop an overarching philosophy through which to understand the world and the structure of power, because the simplistic "nice guy" approach to morality has utterly failed him in this moment.

[essektheylyss]

Fearne had, in true Fearne fashion, wrapped herself like a personal pashmina around Dorian, which left Orym to curl into his chest.

They had slept this way dozens of times before. Fearne’s blackened fingers wrapped tightly around his forearm as she snored loudly into Dorian’s ear. Orym’s head rested on Dorian’s bicep, his arms folded together between them, and his bare feet were gingerly resting upon Dorian’s thighs just above the knees, as Dorian had coiled enough to let Fearne’s fuzzy leg stretch over his hip. They were exhausted, and this was familiar, and he should’ve been fast asleep.

But Orym’s mind buzzed.

Fearne had always been a strong source of heat, but now she was a furnace, and even without covers it was too warm. But Fearne was not the reason why Orym’s skin burned where it met Dorian’s.

He was a fucking grown man. He was fully capable of admitting that.

Admitting it didn’t change it.

Neither did it change his awareness that Dorian had been too still for the past hour, his breath too precise and measured to be natural as it fell upon Orym’s hair. Orym was not going to presume that the cause of this was the same thing afflicting him; there were plenty of other reasons Dorian would be lying awake tonight.

“My family will find your brother,” he murmured finally, and Dorian’s breath wavered for just an instant before he regained his composure and returned to his measured, singer’s breathing. It was so slight that no one else could’ve noticed it, but Orym noticed. “You said there’s a body— the Tempest can bring him back, or Fearne, honestly—“

“I know,” Dorian answered, and this too was so faint that no one but Orym could’ve heard. “I know,” he said again, as though this one was only to appease himself.

“Do you think… do you think any of Opal is still in there?”

“I don’t know. I could barely tell what was in there—“ he cut himself off. “I couldn’t even help my brother. I think Fy’ra Rai might’ve… she must’ve seen something. I hope so,” he added, inhaling, trying to capture an airy tone that he didn’t fully manage. “The Spider Queen doesn’t deserve her. She doesn’t deserve anything.”

Orym had nothing to say to this. He hadn’t cared what the gods did or didn’t deserve in weeks, but now he could see the vein of fury that sharpened Dorian’s edges. It didn’t frighten him the way it had frightened him months ago, when things had been simpler, when there was not a war to be fought. It simply saddened him. “I’m so sorry about Opal,” he said, after the silence had lingered. “But I’m,” he breathed out a single dark laugh at himself, his selfishness, “I’m real glad it wasn’t you.”

Dorian’s laugh matched his own. “I suppose that is a silver lining.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Orym admitted. It was easier to keep his voice from cracking at a whisper. “I’ve thought about seeing you again so many times— I wish the circumstances were better—“

“I’m here,” Dorian said, for the second time today. “The circumstances tried very hard to make even that impossible, but— I’m here.”

Orym pulled his arm gently out of Fearne’s grasp and raised his hand to Dorian’s cheek. It was too dark to see the tinge of lavender against his skin, but Orym could feel the warmth bloom beneath his fingers. He still couldn’t bring himself to attribute his friend’s insomnia to anything so self-serving as his own, but perhaps it was one factor.

He pulled his hand back. Was there a flash of disappointment in Dorian’s eyes? He couldn’t tell in the dark. But he brushed his fingers together, drawing upon the wellspring of life within the ground beneath this hastily-erected encampment. The Hellcatch looked like a barren wasteland to most, but that life was still present even here.

Perhaps not now, but after a rainy season, the valley would bloom with wildflowers. The seeds waited in the earth for their time to sprout. Life went on, even in the darkest of places.

He produced a small stalk of life from his hands, and held out the tiny bundle of forget-me-nots to Dorian.

He should’ve said that they were for Cyrus, to remember him by. He wanted to say that they were for Dorian himself, that a day hadn’t gone by that he hadn’t thought of him. He didn’t speak at all as Dorian’s hand wrapped around Orym’s, pinching the stem beneath his fingers but not letting go.

“Orym,” Dorian breathed, looking from the flowers to his face. Then a strange expression came over his face, a wrinkle of consternation as he stared into the middle distance. “Fearne, are you braiding my hair?”

Orym lifted his head an inch to peer past Dorian’s ear. He had noticed that the snoring had stopped, but he’d been too caught up in the conversation to process it. Fearne’s wide eyes stared back with perfect innocence, her hands indeed weaving Dorian’s hair into a loose braid.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” she whispered quickly. “I’m totally not here.”

When Orym dropped his head back to Dorian’s arm, he was met with a crooked smile. It was not meant to be disarming, but it disarmed him anyway.

“Just like old times, eh?” he said, but his hand was still around Orym’s.

Carefully, Orym moved to tuck the flower behind Dorian’s ear, bringing both of their hands with him, and then laced their fingers together instead. “No,” he said, and tucked his head so that his brow rested against Dorian’s chin, and pressed their entwined hands to his lips. “But I think that’s okay.”

[zwoftt]

its so insanely tough because dorian has EVERY right to feel the way he does about the god situation. his opinion is not only valid but brings more theories to the table. most of his opinion comes from not being able to properly grieve his brother, watching his first adventuring party be torn apart, and not being able to fully comprehend the feelings that are stirring inside of him. not to mention that so much is happening to him in such a short time, so its almost obvious that his mind would be scrambled like this. not only that, but taking the time to consider orym in ALL OF THIS, because of how much he cares. honestly, they haven't really been able to console each other about everything that has recently happened. i believe that orym can possibly be the one to sway dorian back towards the other side, even if its for the time being. because god. i wanna see dorian make that spider queen PAY. maybe he'll be swayed to help orym and the rest of the hells, but he's not doing it for the gods. he's doing it for orym. and after, he's going for that spider queen himself (unless of course he gets his entire perspective changed, in which he grieves normally and finds out that revenge won't make it better)) the tension in dorym rn is juicy, and is needed for the pairing to become an even deeper one. it is quite literally a slow burn afterall. i mean, disagreements have already happened in the past between them; and it only made their relationship stronger. i don't see how this can be very different.

[screechingfromthevoid]

I think the same reason I love Dorym is why I love Loquatious and Laerryn. One, the devotion of it all. But secondly, and more importantly, "But there's one story of a fairy who stumbled into this world and fell in love"

Because Dorian is an air genasi prince who left home to find something real. His home floats on wind and he's never wanted for a thing. And he came down from his clouds only to find himself stumbling, tumbling, into love with just a man.

There is something so earnest about a man who is considered magical and wondrous in a world that already has magic, falling in love with someone who just is.

It's a thought that scratches the back of my mind a lot. It goes hand in hand with Liam saying "he has no idea if Dorian returns his feelings". Because from Orym's point of view why would Dorian have feelings for him? Dorian. The beautiful blue prince who is extremely talented in both music and magic. Dorian is everything Orym admires in other people. Everything he doesn't see in himself.

But Dorian does have feelings for Orym. Because Orym is everything he's not. He's firm and reliable. He knows who he is and is unapologetic about it. Orym was the only one in the (original) Crown Keepers that wasn't tempted by the spider queen. Because he was too principled. He was too good. Dorian's alignment changed. Dorian felt himself getting worse. Yet Orym stayed steadfast. In the face of everything he did not change.

Their pursuits were the same. They wanted to protect their friends. At any cost. But Orym somehow stayed unchanged. He always knew the right way of doing things.

So the handsome prince fell in love with a guard and planned to stay with him until he no longer wanted the company.

I literally said to a friend "I know he leaves. But he is so devoted to Orym I don't know how they're going to get him to."

And it was the one thing neither could argue against. Family. Orym knew about family. He knew about duty.

But even a continent away Dorian couldn't stop thinking about Orym. His little tactician before he was the savior blade. Even when his world came crashing down, Orym called and he went.

Idk. I think there's something beautiful in the way that Dorian loves Orym. I think it is very reminiscent of the fey who stumbled into this world and fell in love. I think it will be a love that will always be with them. That they will have to recover from. A love they might have to mourn before they ever have it.

Even if they never... If there is no love confession, if they have to mourn the loss of the people they thought they were, if there's no way for them to be together; Dorian will always love Orym. In the same way Orym loves Will. First love often lingers.

[naazaif327]

Honestly? I will straight up say it, I think that whole conversation with Melora was fucked up and deeply manipulative on Her part. Allowing only Orym to enter, not Ashton or Dorian or anyone who might have any questions or critiques for Her, isolating him from his friends, pulling away when he brings up Aeor or anything She might be held accountable for, giving him a a traumatizing psychological horror vision that almost broke his mind to make him as afraid as She is, dangling his husband as a prize he might win if he manages to beat Predathos, and offering him a shiny new weapon to fight with. He literally said after coming down from the trip that it was so much that he didn’t really have the wherewithal to talk about Aeor with Her.

The new vestige was nice I guess, but right now before this final assault on Ruidus is the fucking time for accountability, for the Gods to prove that things won’t just return to the status quo when Predathos is stopped/killed/banished. What would’ve happened if Orym had asked about Opal, about Cyrus, about all the people harmed by the Betrayers in these last thousand years because the Primes couldn’t pull the trigger? What might happen if one of the Bell’s Hells asks the Dawnfather about Hearthdell like Deanna did? What might the Gods say to Evoroa and the Reilorans, what words would they have for the mortals they balled up and chucked into space to save themselves?

We didn’t get even a start to those answers tonight because of how the Wildmother played this encounter, and it doesn’t give me hope of them changing their ways at all. I’m curious as to how a potential meeting with the Stormlord or the Everlight might go next episode, but we’ll have to wait and see.

EDIT: knowing now after the talk with The Arch Heart that it’ll probably be a Calamity if they fight it, but Melora didn’t tell him that is just icing on this awful cake, like no wonder Orym said “I don’t have a God” in 107

[skeine]

i mean. i get the situation between laudna and orym was delicate. she was upset and under delilah's influence. the hells had a fine line to ride between sussing out wtf was going on and sending her running. they had to support her or be carefully neutral to do that. and that meant leaving orym to defend himself alone, to challenge laudna's actions on his own. i get it. who better to handle it? the guy's got plenty of practice.

still. it would have been nice if at least someone had spoken up to support orym before he felt he had no choice but to back down. before he felt he had to sacrifice his emotions and convictions and safety for the sake of the group and the mission. yet again. as per usual.

it's remarkable how even in a group of seven living in each others' pockets, orym has always felt so fundamentally alone. and for all the heart to heart talks in the rain, how this exchange played out shows that not all that much has changed really. still shouldering the ugly battles himself, doing the dirty work, taking the hits so his friends don't have to. until he just can't anymore.

in the midst of friends and still so alone. deliberately, willingly, so much of it by choice. and somewhere in the back of laudna's mind, delilah laughs and laughs... and waits for her opportunity to strike.

it's his role i guess, he chose it himself. i just really hope it doesn't end up killing him.

[burr-ell]

I'd be remiss not to point out that "Orym's lying to himself about revenge" basically rests on an argument from ignorance—people who make this argument are acting like it's true because it hasn't been proven false, both because this is an ongoing story and things change and because no one here is actually a mind-reader who can falsify it once and for all. It's a logical fallacy, to be clear.

But it's also just another example of which statements the fandom will cherrypick and parade around (Laura thinks the glasses are cute! Matt liked my tweet about Imogen!) and which ones get conveniently ignored. Liam has now said both in and out of character—more than once—that Orym's not out for revenge; he's trying to honor the memory of his lost loved ones; and that the Ruby Vanguard's goals will never be worth the slaughter they're inflicting. If that's not factoring into the discussion, then the discussion simply is not worth anyone's time.

[lyuenger]

** Authors note. Obvious C3E91 spoilers.

[[ update, thanks to @ReaderOfDragons sending me an invite I'm now on AO3, and it's posted! I did make a few changes/updates/fixes - so read it there for the updated/better version ]]

Also, my first fan fic (and I don’t have an Ao3 invite yet, so I’m sharing here). The moments after played in my head, and the players didn’t act it all out, so I figured I would share tge version in my ''mind palace'. I’ll be sharing more art soon, now that my main job is on summer break.

Note that it switches perspectives. Also, pasting it here messed with my formatting (but I think I fixed most of it).

Faithful End

Chet couldn't hear the sounds of the metal clanking around him, only the ringing in his ears, as he stood in shock and disbelief. The air tasted of blood, sweat and red earth. Quickly his world snapped back into focus and he began to survey the battlefield. What remained of Otohan was charred and strewn about near the freshly made crater on the cave floor.

Orym.

Orym lay still and limp, covered in blood (surely both his and his foes), his sword in the nearby dirt.

A slight rise of his chest showed he was still alive, somehow.

He's alive.

Ash..

A quick look to where he had finally fallen at Otohans blade showed Imogen and Laudna rushing to aid him.

Chet rushed to Orym, knelt down, and fumbled in his pockets until he touched the cool glass of his last healing potion. He uncorked the bottle, pulling the limp Orym up and cradling him into position. “You did good, my boy.” He quietly croaked, as he carefully poured the red fluid into his mouth.

Orym’s chest rose, filling with air, and fell again as he started to exhale, then cough. Green, tired eyes opened and looked up into his own. Chet sighed in relief.

******

Orym coughed, the metallic taste of iron and the familiar herbal taste of a healing potion filled his mouth.

He hurt.

Everything hurt.

He just wanted to sleep, but he felt someone gently holding him, stroking his hair. He lazily opened his eyes, and saw the blue eyes of Chetney looking at him with concern.

Otohan. I have to kill Otohan and get everyone back safe.

With a new burst of adrenaline flowing through his veins he quickly, albeit unusually clumsily, pushed onto his feet. Intense green eyes, framed by the fresh blood that smeared his face, darted around.

There was an odd stillness on the battlefield.

Laudna and Imogen were clutched together.

Shaking.

In fear?

No. Crying. They were crying. Sobbing.

He lowered his eyes and saw an empty glass bottle abandoned near Imogen.

Alert green eyes shifted slightly, resting on Ashton. He was sitting next to them, face buried in a large stoney hand. He couldn't make out his words, but he knew Ash… “Fuck. Shit. Piss.” Surely.

His eyes shifted once more and discovered a newly formed crater, and the charred and bloody remains scattered around the red and now sparkling earth. The sight caused his heart to skip, until he recognized the features… Otohan.

Oh thank the Gods.

He hadn’t believed they would survive that fight, but his friends had pulled it off. He closed his eyes and worked to catch his breath… slow his heart rate. It was over.

It would be okay… he gave himself a moment to let the adrenaline subside, and opened his eyes again.

The sparking red soil caught his eyes now. Pieces of metal? Where did all the metal pieces come from?

The gears in his head began to put the information together, but it didn’t seem to want to click into place. His shifting eyes scanned the cave once more and fell on Fearne. His Fearnie…

He watched those big eyes of hers filling as she stepped into the crater bent down.

Wait, what happened… why was she so upset otohan was dead? Why were the others so upset. They won, somehow.

At least this fight. He knew it wouldn't be their last.

He scanned the cave again checking on his friends. Immogen and Laudna were looking pretty battered and drained, but not quite as rough as Ash. Then again, Ash always looked pretty rough. Chet (who had moved over to check on Everoa) looked real rough, but he had went down hard. Luckily FCG had helped him.

FCG. Did he escape? He had been running…

Movement caught his eye, and he looked over in time to watch Fearne stand, clutching a large metallic chunk… what remained of FCGs smiling face. The eyes were cracked and FCGs smile was now disjointed and crooked, but it somehow still felt… warm.

“Letters?” He heard the words croak out of him, as he looked into Fearne’s and then Chets eyes. He read their faces. Tight, with wet eyes. Feeling his heart shattering, he knew.

“No. Nonononono.” The words softly left his lips. Fearne, barely holding back tears, rushed to him. Her comforting arms gathered him up and Orym buried his face into her.

****

Ash woke up, feeling like he had been ran over by a dragon, but that was nothing new. He always hurt. Although he didn’t always feel this weak.

Having friends, with concerned faces, helping him up was new though. So he sat up, and then stared wide eyed at scraps of metal that had settled across the ground.

Why was there metal on the floor?

That color…

The same color as… The color of FCG.

He scanned the room, quickly taking in the destruction. The crater. The remains.

Why?! Why did he do that. We talked about that.

He knew that damn automaton was going to sacrifice himself one day… he had hoped he would get through to him, but no.

No one gets left behind.

But Letters was gone.

His friend was gone. Gone.

Bits spread everywhere across the cave.

He tucked his face into his hand.

“Fuck.

Shit.

Piss.

Damn it.

You self sacrificing litt….” The words that escaped his mouth registered in his brain, and his eyes flew wide with panic.

Wait.

Orym. She got Orym. I have to help Orym.

Eyes darted to where he had seen him fall, and saw Chetney holding him as he set down an empty glass bottle. Orym’s tiny body shuttered as he coughed awake. Ash felt his body exhale in relief.

Orym will be okay. He's a little guy, but the toughest guy I know.

He's okay.

He's okay.

He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself, wiped his eyes, and looked around the room again. So many metallic scraps littered the rusty red floor.

“Fuck. Shit. Piss.” He muttered angrily to himself, and punched the ground in frustration.

He vaguely took in Ferane running to Orym and Chet, and the other two witches clinging to one another for another moment before jumping up and rushing around to look for something.

He stood dumbfounded and unsteady, leaning against his hammer and lost in thought, until his eyes caught on an unnaturally bright glint of metal in the cave wall.

No one gets left behind.

The words echo in his head on repeat, but all that escapes his lips is “Fuck.”

He takes several slow strides as his feet lead him to the rocky wall near their exit.

The piece of metal, a distinct shape…

The coin. That. Fucking. Coin.

That fucking coin that he always trusted.

What a lot of damm good it did him.

He jammed his fingers into the rock around the metal, gripped firmly and yanked. The rock crumpled away easily and he palmed the coin, staring at it for a minute before slipping it into his pocket.

“We have to make this count” Chets scratchy voice stated matter of factly. Ashton looked over to see him snatching up the backpack.

“Right.” Ash muttered to himself, and he moved to help the others gather anything they could.

***

The blood and dirt covered halfling wiggled out of Fearne’s arms, so she reluctantly set him down gently, making sure he was steady enough on his feet before fully letting him go. His eyes darted around the debris littered on the ground. He knew, deep down, it was futile, but he helped them gather all the pieces they could.

Fresh Cut Grass.

His body may have been weak from exertion and damage, but Orym’s perception didn't fail him. He could sense Fearne following near him, as he maneuvered towards a shiny chunk that had caught his eye. He wearily crouched and picked it up, turning it over in his small hands carefully, avoiding the sharp edges. Familiar slash marks arched across it. Like blades of grass reaching for the sun, or swaying in the wind. Tiny, calloused fingers, stained a brownish red with the soil and dried blood, carefully caressed the recessed lines in the smooth metal.

Letters.

He closed his eyes and hugged the piece of metal tightly to his chest.

FCG.

Faithful Care Giver.

FRITA. Fuck.

What am I going to tell FRITA…

Unconsciously he gently rubbed the moons on his shoulder. The physical pain taking a backseat to the anguish that burned through him. It was not a new feeling. He didn't like it. He would rather feel the physical pain.

It should have been me…

Letters should be with FRIDA, and I would be with Will. And Dad.

Oh Dad, I failed.

Again.

This is too big, and I'm, I'm too li….

A firm hand gripped his shoulder, breaking him away from those spiraling thoughts. He glanced up, first to the hand, then up Fearne. Her expression was full of concern, her voice soft, warm, and comforting, “You okay?”

He didn't think he knew the answer to that yet, and he knew he couldn't talk without falling apart, so he simply flung himself around her in a tight hug. If she could feel the tears soaking into her skirt, she didn't say anything.

*****

Fearne was barely holding it together. FCG was gone. She had never lost anyone she loved like that. But her best friend needed her, so she focused on him. Orym was a hardened soldier, the Savior Blade of the Tempest. He fought steady and bravely. He was a little guy, but so strong and agile. She had never seen anyone do so many sit ups, or wield a sword with such grace and control.

But his heart was fragile, having already been broken, and not yet fully mended.

Not that it ever could be. Some wounds never fully heal. She was starting to understand that. Her heart began to crumple under the weight of their mutual loss, compounded by seeing the pain in Orym’s face. She could feel his rough, gasping breathing as he clung to her.

She couldn't fix their broken hearts.

So she gently rubbed small circles onto his back instead, pushing away the sad thoughts, and focusing on comforting him.

I can't fix this, but I can remind him that he's not alone.

Orym suddenly jerked his head away from her to look down the cave entrance. She could see the damp (and blood and dirt stained) spot he left behind… Although her clothes were already quite soiled before that. Chet had also glanced over his shoulder at the same time. They must have heard something.

Quietly but firmly Chet informed them “We have to move, we won't be alone here long.”

She watched Orym nod, his face now stern and determined.

A soldier's face.

Orym slipped the hunk of metal he had been gripping into his bag as Fearne lifted him, easily swooping him up and onto her shoulders. Man was he light! And so drained, his grasp weak as he held on. Being so drained from the fight, she was sure he couldn't move as fast as they needed to. And they needed to move fast. They needed to find a safe place. They all needed to rest.

***

“Let's go!” Chetney growled.

“On it!” Ashton raged and punched the wall where the exit was.

“We still need to find the …” Laundna’s frustrated statement was cut short.

“Found it!” Imogen exclaimed, briefly holding up the staff FCG had been carrying. Laudna stopped her search with a sigh of relief, and they made their way to the others.

Smart.

Imogen was smart. Orym had known for a while that she was leadership material. They would need the staff for it's ability to teleport everyone. Soon. Too bad it needed to recharge first. Not to mention, someone would need to attune to it.

Because…

Letters.

Letters was gone.

I failed. I failed Letters. I wasn't enough, even with the powers Nana Morey gave me.

Orym felt a firm squeeze on his leg, grounding him. Fearne kept one hand gripped firmly on his leg to make sure he didn’t slip off and she rushed down the tunnel.

He held onto her with as much strength as he could muster, as the remaining Bell’s Hells fled for their lives. He looked at his friends, all beaten and tapped out, but pushing themselves past their limits once again. Helping to steady one another and make sure everyone was keeping up. Orym hugged Fearne’s head tighter and nuzzled it a little. He had great friends. Weird, but great.

I couldn't save FCG, but for now I need to focus on getting the others home.

Home safe.

Alive. Somehow.

Dad and Will wouldn't stop fighting, and neither will I…

[bread-wizards]

I love how Laudna and Dorian's confrontations with Orym mirror each other.

Two charismatic but lovable people, friendly people, with a voice in their head telling them to grab onto this dark and evil item. It's to protect your friends, you want to protect them, right?

Orym noticing and knowing of the dark influences that may have a hand in this decision, trying to keep it from them with threats or physically.

The way they both frame it logically first. The other entities aren't telling them what to do, just sitting back and letting them run with it.

It was his decision to keep it, they can't have Dariax carry it the whole time. They know the horror committed by that sword, it could be dangerous. It's not safe handling it so flippantly. "I should have it" is the undercurrent of every sentence.

Then, when that doesn't work and Orym continues to pressure them to leave it, they turn the situation on him.

Can't make issues out of everything, can we? We could put it in the box and get rid of it, but we can't [because you used that box for something else.]

Why do you even need it? It wasn't yours to possess. You already have a sword [one you used to cover me in gashes.]

The effect this has on the group, not turning them on Orym completely but muddying the water and making them unsure on who to side with. They aren't a perpetrator being confronted but a victim being ganged up on.

Dorian drops it soon after, he cares about Orym's opinion a lot and it isn't worth the rift it will create. Laudna doesn't but she has had an extra 30 years with Delilah and will need more than this to change her mind.

"I'd prefer revenge" from Dorian when talking about his brother's murder. "I like that too." from Laudna in reply. "I knew you would." A shared darkness. One that Dorian has had much time to reflect on but one that is still present just as it is for Laudna.

The voice is gone but the voice wasn't always the one making these decisions. Fascinated to see how these two characters progress.

[unicyclehippo]

release (cr3) for the one word prompt

‘okay. alright,’ imogen says when nana morri gestures for them to go, that all is prepared. no one has stepped into the muck yet. ‘this might be a dumbass idea—‘

‘say it,’ chet encourages, immediately. ‘that’s pretty much the main thing we’ve learned today, right? no bad ideas when they’re just ideas.’

imogen nods, once and then more quickly. ‘right. okay. well, okay. okay. y’all might’ve noticed i took off the circlet—‘ orym nods. so does laudna. the others glance up to where it’s been sitting, which makes sense, being too occupied with their own things to see the tiny change. ‘so. i can look into your minds and then we’ll know who is the doppelgänger.’

silence.

then,

‘it sort of defeats the purpose of the challenge, doesn’t it?’ laudna inquires. ‘you know you’re welcome in my mind any time you wish, darling, but…this is supposed to be about trust, is it not?’

‘i dunno. i’m with mogen. trust is fine when you’re with your pals but if there’s two fuckos in the mix?’ chetney narrows his eyes. ‘bet i could sniff ‘em out. wonder how that works, changing into us. reckon they smell like us? walk like us?’

‘doppelgängers are fucking excellent at what they do. real hard to find.’ ashton scowls at the sidelong looks that earns them. ‘what? i fought one before.’

‘what do they look like cracked open?’ chetney cups a hand around his ear when ashton mumbles something. ‘what was that?’

‘i didn’t get it, okay?’ ashton snaps. ‘it got away. it can look like anyone, of course it fucking got away.’

‘hm. excellent at what they do. got away from you and your hammer… maybe. or maybe you are a doppel and you’re big talking your friends!’ chetney accuses, whipping out a chisel.

‘whoa!’ orym stepped between them, hands outstretched. ‘hold on.’

‘oh, so accusations are a good move but readin’ minds isn’t. got it.’

‘not helping, imogen.’

she lifts her hands in surrender. turns a worried look toward the muck and the altars. they’re wasting time with this. it’d be so easy—read for unfamiliar fey minds, kick out the doubles, grab the sticks.

‘it’s about trust,’ laudna whispers in her ear. she touches a finger to imogen’s wrist as if she doesn’t know - isn’t sure if it’s okay - and some of that is ambient thoughts, imogen thinks, which means it’s gotta be laudna. right? how far did the doubles magic extend? had laudna been thinking about that through both their tests, if it would be wrong to touch her? she grabs laudna’s hand tight. laudna sighs, relieved. ‘it’s about trust,’ she says again. orym nods. ‘what if… we must trust ourselves. our judgement, our instincts. do you remember what it was like to be a group at the start? we didn’t know one another but we had a mutual goal. we trusted one another just enough.’

‘enough to think you guys wouldn’t fuck us over,’ ashton muttered.

‘or you us,’ orym pointed out.

‘point.’

‘so…’ imogen picks up where laudna had left off, giving her hand a squeeze. laudna wraps her other hand tight around her wrist and leans in close, close enough for the floral-rot of her smell to overtake imogen’s senses, lighting her world up pink and bright. ‘uh. we - we can pretend we’re brand new. we need these branches.’

‘i think we can all agree imogen’s herself,’ FCG begins.

‘what! i mean, i am, but -‘

chetney hoots a laugh. ‘you’re blushing over laudna like you’ve never kissed a girl. you have kissed her, right?’

‘yes!’

‘multiple times!’ laudna insists.

‘ooh, multiple,’ chetney teases. ‘sounds sexy.’

sounds like it’s none of your business, imogen says harshly direct into chetney’s mind.

he winces, hand going to his temple. ‘yeah, that’s our imogen. damn! can you chill out? you gotta scream it?’

she narrows her eyes. he flinches, exaggerated, but there’s a smug grin curling his lips up on one side. it feels good to tease and be teased like this. imogen releases a breath she’s been holding onto way too long. rubs her temple.

‘so i’m normal. chet’s normal.’

‘fearne’s been quiet,’ laudna husks in her ear.

fearne’s ears prick up. ‘whoa! ‘scuse you!’

‘well it’s true!’ laudna hunches into herself, uses her grip on imogen’s hand as an anchor, ‘Its true, it is, its true, and none of us would suspect you, she’s your nana, it could be you—’

‘laud.’

‘it could be true,’ laudna says, lip jutting forward.

imogen kisses her. ‘it could be,’ she agrees, voice gentle. ‘but you’re the one who just told us we need to trust.’ she watches laudna blink, then blink again.

‘i did. i- i’m sorry, fearne.’

the faun feigns insult for a moment before she smiles cheekily. ‘that’s alright. i wasn’t listening anyway. i was thinking about trust.’ she eyes each of them, then her nana, and with a very casual sigh and a shrug, steps into the muck.

‘fearne!’

‘we’re not getting anything done hanging out there. orym? wanna get on my back? the mud looks pretty deep.’

orym scrambles up to her shoulders, leaning over her head to peer across the muck. ‘i think i see a path to the first altar. see?’ he points.

fearne hums. ‘i could drown you in the mud pretty easy.’

orym blooms a flower in his hand, tucks it into her hair. ‘please don’t.’

she laughs and walks deeper into the mud, into the test. the mud parts behind her, vague currents pulling through the sludge. it makes sense. there’s such a gravity to fearne. such a pull. did it feel any different? was this still fearne?

trust.

chetney uses ashton’s arm to climb him, keep him lifted out of the mud. he perches on the shoulder of the new arm. laudna eyes the mud warily. it sucks around imogen’s ankles and she knows immediately that FCG and laudna are going to have trouble.

‘ash, wait.’ he flinches when they talk to him now. his mind—she’s not looking but she can’t help but hear—his mind flinches too, scatters like the thunder wasps. flighty, storm front. then reordering to attack. was he afraid her next words would be, stay here? we can’t trust you? kill yourself? ‘can you carry FCG?’

ashton limps to FCG. ‘okay?’

‘sure!’

‘i’ll put you down when you want. you just gotta say.’

‘i know,’ FCG says. ‘i trust you!’

ashton ducks their head. they lift up FCG with a grunt and march into the mud behind fearne, wordlessly following where she leads.

imogen turns. ‘i can make us fly. keep your pretty new dress outta the mud.’ laudna flushes a mottled sort of pink-purple. she nods. her thoughts are syrup sticky-sweet as she meets Imogen’s eyes. ‘i love you.’

laudna smiles. ‘but do you trust me?’ when imogen hesitates, laudna brushes a crooked finger over imogen’s cheek. ‘i don’t think you have since i broke your rock.’

‘i forgave you for that months ago, laud,’

‘yes i know. i know. but there’s a part of you that knows i’m—i’m not me. i’m her.’

‘no—‘

‘yes. and you don’t trust her. you hate her. she disgusts you.’

‘laudna.’

‘it’s fine,’ laudna tells her, so quietly, so sweetly, so sadly. ‘i know. i understand. i feel it myself. but for right now, my love, do you trust that i am myself?’

imogen nods. how can she not? it’s laudna, standing right in front of her. she lets her magic fill her, rise into her skin and out, crackling into her air surrounding her, surrounding them. hooking an arm around laudna’s waist, she lifts them both into the air.

the first and second branches are easy. they’re guarded by traps and quick, muddy creatures they repel and run from, not wanting to harm anything in nana’s realm that can’t be healed.

they’re approaching the third branch when fearne says,

‘i don’t think any of us are doubles.’

ashton pauses. ‘wait. what?’

‘i don’t think any of us—‘

‘we heard you, fearnie,’ imogen says through gritted teeth. she’s trying to run the maths. two doubles. laudna and chet are definitely who they say they are, so is she. so it’s orym and fearne, most likely. right? ‘why do you think that?’

‘it doesn’t make sense! this is supposed to be trust building for all of us. why would any of us sit out?’

‘it’s a trick,’ laudna breathes. ‘a conniving trick. if we are all ourselves—‘

‘but we think two of us aren’t ourselves,’ oryn takes up the train of thought,

‘then we waste time being suspicious of each other instead of just doing what we’re supposed to do.’

‘seems like an apt tie-in to what we hope to do on the moon,’ FCG says, cradled in ashton’s arms. ‘less likely to succeed in our mission if we’re too busy double-checking what everyone else is up to.’

‘fearne,’ imogen breathes. ‘that’s brilliant.’

fearne flips her hair, demurs with a coy smile. ‘of course.’

‘plus, wouldn’t it make us trust each other less if we couldn’t figure it out now and forever more sort of weren’t sure if any of our friends had been replaced?’

‘true, but when you put it that way, that does kinda sound like something nana would do,’ fearne laughs. ‘look out, trap in the mud here.’ orym leans over and drops a white snapdragon blossom where fearne points. ‘okay, third stick, here we go!’

[cassafrasscr]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[pearlaquaoceans]

Bear with me as I write out my thoughts. I just need to write it somewhere to get it out of my brain. It isn't a critique or a think piece or any grand theories, just me struggling with my own thoughts while listening to the Cooldown after Downfall part 2.

I have always struggled with connecting to Talisen's characters. I see it as he thinks and sees the world and interacts with it in such a different way to me that I just fail to grasp what he is putting down because it is so alien to how i see the world. And right now I'm trying to grasp his Melora. And please understand I know this is a skill issue for me. I just cannot connect on any level to any of his characters because I think I just view the world so differently and how characters are so differently so it's all me, nothing on him. He's great and fantastic and I know his characters to be particularly beloved.

With Melora, and especially what he said in cooldown how Melora would be a betrayer if it was up to her and how she sees humans only as food. She is a tiger and tigers do not look at deer with pity. They look at them only as food and not as something to hold empathy for. And it's a super interesting interpretation and I think if Melora hadn't been previously established I would really dig it because nature is very eat or be eaten but it just doesn't reconcile in my head with what we know. If Melora is the tiger and mortals are mearly prey and not her cubs. Then why send anything at all to the people who have interacted with her in the main campaign. Where does the warmth sent in breezes come from if she has no interest in humans? Why does she care for Orym? Why does she send signs at all if she only wishes for nature to continue? Why not let mortals bumble around on their own and fail so that nature is left to be as it should be. I cannot see this Melora answering any prayers. I cannot see her sending rain.

With the first episode I was thinking she was more like this because the land is choked and she suffers because the land suffers but with Talisen saying there is no anger. No pity. I dunno I just can't quite seem to grasp it. I love the wild harshness of her but nature is also bounty and life and hope in my mind. When flowers and trees bloom after a forest fire. There is a hope in that and I just can't seem to find that hope in Talisen's Melora. If she wished she was a betrayer God and only isn't because of others and not herself, why would she intervene on behalf of anyone? Why would she help to bring Molly back when the body would have caused so much havoc on nature if Lucien were the one to be brought back? Why would she answer those prayers? Why would see do anything for any mortal? This Melora I cannot see her being concerned with anything beyond base instinct. I can get gods being multifaceted and complex, the raven Queen and pelor are doing that in my brain loads but then the connection holds with them and i can weave the different versions together into something that makes sense in my head. Especially with them behind the divine gate in present story.

Then I started thinking, how much are the gods shaped by those who pray? Like are their beings shaped by what the masses see in them? Does Melora find that warmth when people begin to pray to her again after the fall of Aeor? Does she soften? Or is the warmth she send a false warmth and it is not her at all? Or did the distance between them and the mortal realm once the divine gate was created, make the heart grow fonder, and she changed and was able to see things differently and then wanted people to succeed?

I dunno. I'm just listening to cooldown and really struggling with the character and it makes me feel junky because I can look objectively and think Talisen is doing cool things and doing it super well but for the life I me I cannot make the connection in my brain to what we've seen and what we are seeing. The others I can do it but as always I just can't get a grasp of what Talisen is putting down with what I already have in my hands with my knowledge of Melora and I know it's a skill issue and I hate that I'm not finding what I need to understand.

[cringefaecompilation]

people are already saying that the vision won't change anyone's mind. i mean, it might change one guy's mind, one in particular who's really been deadset in his ways. won't make him hate the gods, but it'll kick his butt into gear about another problem he's got.

orym and cassida are so alike it hurts. i thought i was helping. i am helping. i want to walk alongside you. why won't you tell me anything? please trust me. i'll do anything you ask me to. all my suffering to get where i am had to have been for a reason. there is hope in everything if you just hold on to it. please don't make me do this. i'll do it if it helps you.

cassida is used time and time again by everyone, by aeor, by the gods, by ludinus all to justify their actions and to assuage their guilt. who remembers her? she was just another nasty hubris wizard, another victim killed by the wicked gods, another casualty of a war that higher powers fought amongst themselves.

orym is much the same. kicked around by the world but always staying on top. he'll do anything anybody asks of him with no care for his own well-being; pragmatic to a fault and goal-oriented as a perfect little soldier. these are not virtues.

when he cannot do something he overexerts himself. he seeks out dangerous pacts with fey hags with his own life as payment. he'll tell everyone else that they are good and kind and more than their powers, but he doesn't believe it himself. and what he gets for this devotion is mission after mission with no rest and the swinging sword over his neck telling him that it will be an eventuality that both his dearest friends will have to die by his hand.

(this isn't keyleth's fault. i'm not trying to take orym's agency from him or blame her influence fully on his suffering.)

if orym keeps pushing himself this hard and keeps justifying his self-harming, it isn't a question of if he will die, but when. ever since he got back from the moon he's been coming closer and closer to realization but hasn't quite reached it. we can only hope he sees himself in someone like her, trying her damnedest to see hope against all odds before it's too late.