widaugast

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        I know I have been inactive for some time, but I've saved my old drafts and will be working on them in the next week-ish!  I didn't stay up late enough to finish the Reunited one-shot, so I plan on finishing that within the next week and cracking back at my post-canon threads.

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missing my favorite sad wizard hours

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thelyss.

ESSEK  FEELS  CONFUSED, and  worries  about  how  he’s  come  across.  He  rethinks  his  words.  Maybe  the  fact  that  he’d  explained  his  thought  process  made  it  sound  like  he  was  trying  to  justify  it?     “ Oh-  No,  you  welcomed  it  wonderfully, ”     he  says,     “ Apologies.  I  did  not  mean  to  sound  defensive.  I  just  wanted  to  explain  the  sentiment  behind  the  gift. ”

He  frequently  feels  like  his  previous  behavior  influences  how  his  words  are  perceived  —  that  the  Nein  think  he’s  being  condescending  or  irritable.  Not  that  he  thinks  this  is  the  case  here.  But  it  often  makes  him  worry  that  he’s  miscommunicating.  It  probably  doesn’t  help  that  he  was  trained  to  socialize  with  the  Dens,  not  friends.

        Looking towards Essek, now, the pair having turned to face one another, Caleb does not exactly meet his eye  ---  rather, he is searching, looking for words between those spoken that are betrayed by movement, old training led to new, stranger roads.  Perhaps it was not straightforward, perhaps it was better to speak first and question later, but old habits die hard  ---  and he is not looking so closely at Essek to scrutinize him, now, to interrogate him, but to understand.  Quietly, Caleb takes in the other mage's words, the precious stone about his neck that waits, softly, in the hollow of his chest, against his tunic.

        His hands are unbound, as they have been for some time, and to Caleb's memory, he recalls that Essek has known no different:  he has always seen Caleb's scars close to the surface, and in turn, Caleb is perhaps seeing...  perhaps, a fraction of the other man's own, beyond what sins he has confessed, what venom he believes still courses through his blood like a second pulse.  There is a miscommunication here, maybe, simple enough  ---  but few things are simple between them, and this gesture alone is proof.  Protection, yes, but a favor given with no expectation beyond it.  Once, they would not have done that.  Once, Caleb imagines, neither of them would have dared.

        ❝ It is a fine thing, Herr Thelyss, ❞  and when Caleb says the other man's name formally, it does not seem distant, but tinged with a hint of warmth, a reminder of where they began and how different the present has begun to feel.  ❝ Your...  efforts do not go unseen.  I  ---  I appreciate them. ❞  And you, now.

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THINGS DONE WITH HAIR  --- NO LONGER ACCEPTING! @bladewarde​ cast message:  BRUSH ]: with a hairbrush, comb, or their hand, the sender begins to gently brush the receiver’s hair. (if he lets her!)

        Though Caleb does not readily admit it, he is fairly certain Laera is one of few familiar faces within the city's edge:  his former connection, Mariss, was now vanished like smoke, and with him, an apparent tangle that Caleb hadn't even been aware he'd walked into.  What had, for all intents and desperate purposes, appeared a shop was an all-too-well-disguised smuggler's front, and he had been seen at it.  He had, even, perpetuated the disguise:  a patron to a business with a false door, helping them tuck their more unsavory business beneath the jangle of unsteady commerce.

        Being seen, however, was now the problem  ---  and Caleb had paid the price for helping a smuggler's front with a heavy bruise under his eye, another pair around the base of his neck.  He had not paid for the out-of-the-way tavern room that he had woken into, but Laera's familiar face was there when he blinked awake to her sitting nearby, perched vigilantly and...  a bit awkwardly.  Such was the nature of meeting once again under less than ideal circumstances.  The warrior sits close, almost with her hand on...  his head.  The movement is tender as he pulls back, rolling into a sitting position against the wall with a wince.

        ❝ Good...  morning? ❞

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ruidusborne.

It had been a risky move; she knows that.  Watching him react so violently to touch sends a bolt of guilt straight through her.  Her hands, too, feel like they have been shocked, and the fingers curl into fists as she remains where she is and does not make a move to advance any closer.  Maybe she had done too much.  His anguish wears on the door of her mind like gale force winds; she tries to rebuild her walls and fails.

“Yeah,” she answers in a fog, listless amid her own remorse and Caleb’s amplified emotional response. “You’re here,” Imogen reminds him again, as it bears repeating. “You went somewhere else for a second there.” She knows what that’s like, to tussle with the fluid line between the conscious and unconscious minds.

“Sorry for…” the apology halts abruptly.  She realizes that it’s better utilized later.  It’s like falling off a horse: triage the more immediate needs and access the methods later. “You alright?  You cast that spell, and then…” her mind stirs with the vivid imagery she had seen in his mind not seconds prior. “Can I get you some water? Somethin’ to cool you off?”

        ❝ Ah  ---  no, I  ---  no. ❞  Halting, the words that come first to his lips, and Caleb should expect as much:  everything within his mind is a dying maelstrom, a blaze of recollection followed by smoke so thick it is nigh-impossible to see, nigh-impossible to breathe, to make sense of the world in which he steps, where his feet sink into dirt and ash.  Numbly, a well-wrapped hand rubs against his nose and lips with a sharp, ragged inhale, and Caleb is pushing himself to his feet  ---  obeying the command, delayed, of his body to begin to move.

        He is wordless, now, one of many moving in the dust.  He is a shape flickering in and out of focus, a spark falling off a pyre rattling against the earth, his feet carrying him to something like safety, somewhere that sounds, dully, distantly, like it is less loud, less full of what was once a screaming body.  He does not want to speak, nor does he again seem capable of it the moment his mouth shuts.  Softly, an awareness in the back of his head, anxious and whispering, reminds him that he needn't speak around Imogen.  He needn't say anything.  She was there, regardless.  Prying, and he did not ask.

        The guilt of what he's done, what she must have seen, rattles and roils in his belly like acid, and Caleb makes it to the base of a tree before he vomits, pulling back out of the reflex with his head against the trunk, breathing hard.

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THINGS DONE WITH HAIR  ---  NO LONGER ACCEPTING! @thelyss​ cast message:  [ BRAID ]: sender, sitting behind the receiver’s back, begins to braid their hair.

        Caleb closes his eyes against the motion, the soft tugs from left to right, centering themselves against his back and neck as Essek's fingers deftly move.  Perhaps it was folly, to have invited so close a touch, but he was ever-curious, and had cautiously given his consent: Essek had paused for but a moment, checking softly, before Caleb’s murmur had affirmed this curiosity.  An exploratory touch was not a new thing, but that it was out of the heat of battle, out of anything other than necessity —  that was something they were still walking around, pacing about like a pair of cats, watching something stir on the ground beneath their feet.  A moment to catch themselves, to ask what it was they were approaching, was not amiss before it began to unfold.

        While they sat in the library of the Nein-Sided Tower, Caleb already having spread out his materials on the floor when a desk had failed to provide adequate space, Essek was perched on the low-slung chaise at his back, a few materials of his own spread above.  A moment's touch, a wayward carding of hands through hair, and they had ended up in the current moment:  silent, waiting, full of touch and little else.

        If Caleb speaks, he is sure to break it, so he only moves his neck slightly, now  —  looking up to angle one of the dancing lights above their heads towards Essek's features to illuminate them, get a glimpse of what lies in his thoughts as he works.  What is there, in this moment?  Where does this contact fall?

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This is how Widomauk can still win?

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        I am not going to move backwards and attempt to re-tag two years worth of posts, but I will be changing my chapter tags to match the arc names and groupings currently in the Critical Role wiki.  All of my general canon threads will be tagged with the basic one the same as normal  ---  ( one. ) canon  ---  but these secondary tags help me keep track of time when I need to look things up and corroberate against the wiki or my notes!  So if you see those tags change, that's what's up.

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Re: Caleb's epilogue, I keep trying to find a better way to phrase: "Just because it made you feel sad doesn't mean it was a sad ending for the character." I will die on the hill that Caleb's ending was positive and happy and to a certain extent triumphant - it just also made me weep buckets.

Both Caleb's scene at his parents' grave and Yasha's scene at Zuala's were sad, but they were an important sad that helped the characters heal and moved them toward happy endings. Actually digging into the truth of grief is perhaps not what everyone wants to watch and can make people uncomfortable, but it's a valid and important part of storytelling that speaks to many people and can provide catharsis through honest narrative. For me as a viewer both scenes were incredibly important, meaningful, and relatable. And it makes it that much richer to then see those characters move forward with their own personal goals, relationships, and happiness, having finally confronted and found some measure of peace about the pain of their past.

I think some of this goes into the fact that there's this cultural association many of us have in thinking of sadness as a "negative" emotion, rather than an important part of life and something that should be experienced as part of wholeness and healing. It's actually part of what I've always loved about CR -- that as actors embracing the very act of being openly emotional, they also embrace the importance of feeling sadness or grief and don't paint it with a simple "negative" brush. This isn't "angst," not in a reductive sense -- its an engagement with grief in storytelling that many, many people watching will find meaningful and beautiful.

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THINGS DONE WITH HAIR  ---  ACCEPTING! @chaoshe​ cast message:  [ TICKLE ]: the sender uses the ends of the receiver’s hair to playfully tickle them.

        He is not aware, at first  ---  held in the mind's eye of Frumpkin wheeling above them in the sky to keep care against their way, Caleb's senses are focused entirely on the shifting of wind, the keen transfigured bird's eyes gleaming against the changing ground, thick with jungle.  There is little that he is yet aware of as a danger, which is a mixed relief:  though it is unquestionably a boon that nothing obvious has revealed itself, the treeline through which they trek is thick, heavily obscuring anything that waits below the canopy, closer to their own standing height.

        As Beauregard had ventured further ahead in their line, keeping a close watch on Yasha, Caleb's hands had found their way to the second-nearest set of shoulders to rest on, to guide his steps  ---  and he comes back to them with a flickering awareness, and a...&bnsp; tickling sensation?  His knuckles are grasping familiar blue skin, and he's looking into Jester's eyes as they've apparently stopped moving for the moment, a path ahead being cleared by Fjord's sword as they move through the jungles of Rumblecusp.  For a moment, though, Caleb's vision is entirely filled up with his own hair, being fiddled this way and that under his nose, and he starts a bit, shaking his head.

        ❝ You  ---  ❞  a wrinkle of his nose and brows slightly, pulling his head back a bit as his hands hang for a moment extra, a little something too long.  Caleb is all too conscious, but Jester is smiling, and that is something he does not want to pull from quite yet.  ❝ You know, Jester, if you wanted to get my attention, that is certainly a way to go about it. ❞

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

i had a super SUPER productive morning and i was treating myself to the fancy shampoo (u know the shampoo u got as a gift that’s kinda expensive and v v Nice so u only use it when ur going out or have a social event going on?) and i came back to find a bunch of my mutuals reblogging the same post about hair, and i’ll be damned if i didn’t see that combination of events as some sort of sign! so here u go my dudes! another addition to the group! feel free to add “+ REVERSE” to switch the roles of this meme!

as always, DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST! i’ll add to it as time passes! and i really hope you all enjoy this one bc i had a lot of fun making it! 

[ WASH ]:          sender begins to wash the receiver’s hair.

[ TUG ]:          sender grabs the receiver’s hair and pulls at it. ( SPECIFY A REASON! CONTEXT IS KEY! )

[ BRAID ]:          sender, sitting behind the receiver’s back, begins to braid their hair.

[ SNIP ]:          having discussed the matter, the sender gives the receiver a haircut.

[ BACK ]:          sender, noticing a strand of hair fall from the receiver’s hairdo, carefully tucks the strand back behind the receiver’s ear.

[ BURY ]:          sender buries their hand deep in the receiver’s hair.

[ BRUSH ]:          with a hairbrush, comb, or their hand, the sender begins to gently brush the receiver’s hair.

[ GLIDE ]:          sender runs their fingers through the length of the receiver’s hair.

[ BLOOM ]:          sender weaves a number of flowers through the receiver’s hair.

[ STYLE ]:          sender begins to arrange the receiver’s hair into an elaborate hairstyle to an unspecified degree of success (or failure).

[ CROWN ]:          having created a flower crown, the sender carefully places it atop the receiver’s head.

[ INHALE ]:          while embracing or in close proximity to the receiver, the sender inhales slowly, smelling their hair in the process.

[ TICKLE ]:          the sender uses the ends of the receiver’s hair to playfully tickle them.

[ PLAY ]:          the sender begins to play with the receiver’s hair while the receiver lies in their lap.

[ LAY ]:           the sender lays down in the receiver’s lap to let them play with the sender’s hair.

[ TOUCH ]:           just for the sake of the contact, the sender reaches out and gently touches the strands of the receiver’s hair.

[ MASSAGE ]:          with their hands buried in the receiver’s hair, the sender begins to gently massage their scalp.

[ ROYAL ]:          as part of a coronation ceremony, the sender places a crown atop the receiver’s hair, maintaining eye contact as they do so.

[ KISS ]:          the sender places a tender kiss on the receiver’s hair.

[ AWAY ]:          the sender, using their fingertips, tenderly sweeps a few strands of hair out of the receiver’s face so as to see them more clearly.

[ TOWEL ]:          the sender uses a towel to carefully dry the receiver’s hair.

[ DRY ]:          the sender uses a hairdryer to dry the receiver’s hair.

[ SOFTEN ]:          the sender rubs oils/conditioner into their hands, and begins to slowly massage it into the receiver’s hair.

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So, I reached episode 18 of the Mighty Nein and I needed to draw a wizard with his cat✨

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“You’re alive!”

(So er, this moment definitely happened when I was on my pee break during the livestream, right... 🤡

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Reassuring Jester: Episode 105 Vs. Episode 91

bonus e103 angst under the cut:

Keep reading

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i  don’t  know  if  there’s  an  additional  update  that  changes  anything  about  this  method,  but  for  those  that  are  not  seeing  any  text  when  reblogging,  here  is  my  current  work  around 

write  your  response  in  a  gdoc  or  some  kind  of  notes  app,  make  sure  it  is  finished  and  formatted  how  you  would  like. 

reblog  the  reply  and  opt  into  the  beta  editor.  you  have  to  do  this  to  see  the  previous  replies.  

paste  your  gdoc  or  notes  written  response  into  the  beta  editor  reply and  draft  it. 

go  to  your  drafts,  open  the  drafted  response,  opt  out  of  beta,  and  editable  blogs  should  work.  HOWEVER  it  will  not  redraft,  it  will  automatically  post  if  you  try  to  draft  it  (i  do  not  know  what  happens  when  you  attempt  to  queue  it),  so  make  sure  your  response  is  already  done  and  formatted.  

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        As you can probably notice, I have resumed my drafts again!  I have archived a chunk of my drafts that haven't been written in  ---  on either end  ---  since August, but have chosen to keep others.  The list below is all those I’ve kept, and if you’d prefer to drop anything, simply let me know via either Discord (which most of my partners should have) or Tumblr IM!

@stagsworn --- x.

@deniesmercy --- x.

@thelyss --- one and two.

@allbecomeloved --- x.

@faithcascades --- x.

@tcaleaf --- x.

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a quick one. i got lazy with it