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utilitycaster · 1 year

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I know the unpopular opinions meme finished ages ago, but id love to hear yours on Chetney, especially given the uthodurn arc. I suppose for more specific direction since thats quite a broad ask, what would you say is the fandom interpretation of Chetney’s character, and how does your opinion/interpretation of him differ and why?

Absolutely - and questions like this one are always welcome!

I was actually quite pleasantly surprised by the fandom response to Chetney this week, which was by and large positive. But with that in mind I think that honestly, it's hard to pin down a definitive fandom interpretation of Chetney's character! Some of this is probably the circles in which I engage and what people put in the main tag, but I think at this point people who felt he was comic relief or a shallow joke or "just couldn't get him!" have either quietly adjusted their expectations or have left the fandom, or have always been people only watching for one character and ignored him from the start.

So I think the thing that differs in my opinion, to be honest, is just that like....I've never reduced him to mere comic relief? Like, he's an extremely funny and ridiculous character, but he showed a great deal of emotional depth from early on; if you didn't pick that up from his rapid turnaround on Dorian it's pretty much impossible to miss in his quiet conversation in the Heartmoor or the way he takes FCG's also ridiculous backstory about Shithead completely in earnest. These two things, as I've mentioned many a time before, are not in conflict! I think Chetney definitely skews far more comedic than, say, Fjord; or obviously more so than other Bells Hells party members Imogen; but like, comedy, tragedy, and horror are all connected by the same tissue, separated only by timing, perspective, and expectation. We know Travis can do a ridiculous character with heavy plot beats as we've seen with Grog; we also know that sometimes the funniest jokes come from more serious characters (again, I think an underrated moment of hilarity in C2 was Caleb's early "you look like a nerd").

It's very narrow and not terribly smart to box characters into a tiny contained archetype with no room to spread out, and Travis is particularly good among the cast at creating characters who defy those boxes. Chetney is an old weirdo with a high voice who says truly preposterous things; he is also someone whose life took an unexpectedly sharp slide downward following an impulsive decision, and who then, improbably, found that what many would consider rock bottom was in fact one of the greatest things that ever happened to him. He's incredibly passionate about what he loves, and vocal about what he dislikes, and deceptively insightful, and has a strong sense of justice and a remarkably good sense of how far he can push people with his over-the-top bravado without wearing out his welcome. He's even (heavily implied to be) bisexual.

I also think, and here's where "oh shit we need to catch up on the entire campaign on the Bells Hells page on the wiki" is really benefiting me, people underestimate how quietly instrumental Chetney is in many of Bells Hells decisions. He was not just the person to clock Dusk, but also the person to broker the compromise; he served as one of the more levelheaded party members following the disastrous fight with Otohan; he's consistently been the one to ask Imogen to actually consider her relationship with her powers; he was the one who convinced Delilah that she needed them leading Delilah to give Laudna a moment; and it was ultimately his idea to fly the skyship into the key. As of this level, he literally is the brains of the operation, with a +3 INT modifier to Orym, Ashton, and Laudna's +1 (and Imogen's +0 and Fearne and FCG's -1's). He has an overblown public sense of pride, but is remarkably willing to set his ego aside when he is not the focus. And for all he loves being a werewolf, he also does take responsibility for the harm he has done without wallowing in guilt. (Not that exploring guilt isn't valid as well, but I think Chet's approach is an admirable trait).

To be honest I think anyone who's not on board with Chet is uncomfortable with those final notes. Either they're one of the stragglers still on their "but Grog had a 6 INT and despite having five entire years to get over this during which Travis has consistently played characters with at least a +2 to INT, I shall not change my perception" bullshit, or, more realistically, are uncomfortable with the fact that Chetney (and, on a meta level, Travis as a player) both without hesitation will take the lead when appropriate or needed, but also will step aside when the narrative is not about him with absolutely no ego or resentment. I think that last bit really throws people off, especially people of the 'if the show cannot be interpreted as secretly centering my blorbo at all times I'm going to go into my tantrum hole' persuasion.

#answered #faltermoth #not me thinking of a proust quote about an ancient tiny werewolf man #cr tag #chetney pock o'pea

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inconmess · 1 year

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For the CR Spell Hurt/Comfort: 19 Feign Death, Chetney.

*scratches my head for a moment* I totally forgot a queued this one up and tbh I don't know much about the spell and its ritual so... I am kinda treating it as a faked death scenario. And I love faked death scenarios :3

Feigned death: You touch a willing creature and put it into a cataleptic state that is indistinguishable from death.

Also, just to tease, I had two other ideas in mind but I choose this one. Enjoy! One was a prank and the other was an escape.

"You know..." the masked figure said as it tilted its head. "You've been causing my employer a lot of damage along without your tiny little group..."

Don't hesitate to ask!

"And I am not going to give up their location. You can do whatever you want to do with me," he growled, though it didn't come through as intended because of something that blocked his connection with the wolf.

"I can do whatever I want with you?" it said in a pleased tone, lined with a touch of amusement.

"As long as you don't go after my friends."

"Oh I know you won't give them up. Neither will I search them up. Because you will lead them to me," a smugness in its voice that sent shivers down Chetney's back.

A tendril came up and touched the old gnome's cheek. "You have to remember, resurrection doesn't work anymore."

Chetney internally panicked, wishing he could move his frozen body as the face spoke some words and the world turned black.

"After all," the thing chuckled, "the most emotional people take the most rash decisions."

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

"Is this the right place, F.R.I.D.A?" Imogen asked, unsure as they approached the worn down hut.

"Yeah, these are where the tracks led to. Why?"

"Because I feel no one here. Absolutely no thoughts."

"Maybe there might be something to block thoughts?"

"Or they could've moved again." Fearne said flippantly. "I mean, we did narrowly miss them the last time also."

"No, no. This time he specifically left clues, like he wanted us to find them. Even if this is a trap, Chetney should be here."

"Unless he's been killed."

"No, it wouldn't. Mr. Pock O'Pea is leverage. Whatever it is, it would need him alive in order to negotiate."

"Well, we need to go inside first to see if our assumptions are true then." Deanna snapped as she blasted the door open without any warning, the rest of them hastily bracing themselves for any sort of impact from any traps.

In the end... it was kind of anti climatic. No traps, no guards to fight, and no sight of anyone at all. And they had come in expecting for a fight that this switch immediately set in a feeling of uneasiness in them. The hut was silent. Dead silent.

"Should we... check the rooms?"

"I hope they are just good at hiding..."

Bedroom? Empty. Cooking area? Empty. Some kind of a store room? Empty. Every single room was empty and now they were confused. Were they even in the right place? Was there some sort of a-

"Secret panel!" Fearne shouted as she swung back the carpet with a triumphant shake of the body as they all stare at the badly disguised trap door.

"Our last hope."

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

"Maybe we shouldn't have joked about it?" FCG said as they all stared down at the unresponsive werewolf.

"Maybe he's just faking it? You know, like how some people say that bears will leave it's prey if they play dead?"

"There's no fucking heartbeat or thoughts! There is always thoughts even when he sleeps!" Imogen shouted.

"And he also snores. Quite loudly." Fearne unhelpfully added.

"Anyone has diamonds on them?" Deanna asked in panic, trying to remember the spell for Revivify.

"Ressurection magic isn't working, remember?"

"Well, we said that for sending also and it worked close range! We have to try! It's Chetney!"

"I still believe he is pretending to be dead."

"No injuries, no nothing. He wasn't even tortured. Couldn't he just escape by summoning the wolf?"

"He was fucking captured because he couldn't access the wolf!"

"And it's been 5 days since he fucking missing! Revivify wouldn't even work if he's been dead for that long!"

"He would've started to decompose then!"

"Or did someone cast some preservation spell?"

"I don't know what sick fuck would ever-"

"They would, to make a statement. Look," F.R.I.D.A said as they pulled out a piece of paper hidden inside Chetney's jumpsuit.

Love the gift I gave you? If you didn't, meet me at the tower. You know which one.

"That fucking son of a bitch. He wants us to come to the tower? I will fucking-"

"D, it's a trap."

"I know it is a fucking trap and I am going to go into it anyway-"

"What are we going to do now? Leave the body?"

"Of course we are not leaving the body! We are taking it with us!"

"Because if you want to go after the man, we have to leave the body here."

"Are we... burying him?"

"Don't. I am afraid of being buried alive. Also, does anyone have water, I am fucking thirsty and those bastards haven't been taught to respect old people."

Everyone screamed.

__________________________________________

Well, I read that the spell only lasts an hour so... what the guy presumed was they would find the body sooner and confront him before Chetney "revives" but when have they ever worked according to the bad guy's plan?

#critical role #chetney pock o'pea #feigned death #writing prompt #ask answered #frida #deanna leimert #fearne calloway #imogen temult

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divinesouldariax · 2 years

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26 and/or 70 from the random dialogue prompts for ashton!

I wrote this before last night's episode had some excellent Ashton and Laudna bonding moments, so like, i'm extremely ;-; abt their friendship right now. Hope you like it!

Send me prompts? Or these ones? (pls specify!)

Content warning for chronic migraines and health issues that come along with them

26. "Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before." and/or 70. “You know what? Never-mind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway.”

“Are you alright?”

It was only by virtue of Ashton’s unflappable nature (ha) and the fact that they’ve gotten a little bit used to Laudna’s Whole Deal that he didn’t jump and yelp at the voice whispering into his head in the dim room. They were staying in a tiny inn with tiny rooms and tiny beds mostly built for dwarves and similarly sized folk, in a small mining town on the way to the Heartmoor. The whole group had been getting more comfortable sharing a living space (which was fucking weird, but not unwelcome), but even Fearne had been forced to admit that they wouldn't all fit in one room here. She and Orym and Imogen and Laudna had claimed one room, sleeping two by two in the little beds, which left Ashton, Chetney, and Fresh Cut Grass in the second room.

Most everyone was still downstairs getting food, though, which was why Ashton was startled to hear Laudna whispering from the other side of the wall. They debated pretending to already be asleep.

"Aaaaashton," Laudna continued.

"Fuck. What?" Ashton demanded. They sat down on their bed, rubbing at an aching, dark green bruise on his arm.

"I said, are you alright?"

"Why the fuck wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I don't know, but you don't usually skip out on the food and drinks part of the evening. And you took a few pretty gnarly hits out on the road today from that animated tree," Laudna said.

"I've had worse," Ashton stated.

"We know. You were also pinching the bridge of your nose and closing your eyes an awful lot," added Laudna. "Do you have a headache?"

Ashton almost laughed. When don't I? "Nah. Just tired."

"Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before," scoffed Laudna. "Come on, now, I've been with Imogen for two years. I know what a migraine looks like."

They made a face and tried to send a message back that was just an irritated groan.

It must have worked, because Laudna replied, "I can leave you alone if you want, I don't mean to bother you. But I have some tea that I was making Imogen anyway. She also has a headache coming on. Would you like some? I know they're not caused by the same thing, but...a hot drink never hurt anyone."

"Unless it's poisoned, or you spill it," Ashton retorted quickly.

Laudna's appreciative grin was audible. "Truer words."

"Sure. Why the fuck not?" They didn't actually know why they were agreeing to this. He doubted the tea would actually help stop the tide of pain coming in behind his left eye, the dizziness and weird double vision tinged with color outlines that he could swear were making things move at the wrong speed, the way they sometimes felt like the ground beneath them was taking them forcefully by the glass and gold in his head and squeezing, pulling him downwards with irresistible weight. Sometimes, when they were especially beat up or exhausted, they just didn't have the strength to resist the pull and ended up laying facedown on the ground until sleep claimed him.

"May I come over?" Laudna asked.

Ashton nodded, winced as the shifting caused a slight grinding sound in his neck and a spike of burning pain through his head, and then remembered that Laudna couldn't see them. "Fuck. Yeah, sure." Today would definitely be one of the days that ended in total collapse. He could already feel the heightened gravity pulling at his head and limbs. They felt a little nauseous.

"On my way!" Laudna said in a sing-song voice. About thirty seconds later, there was a knock at the door.

"I don't think I locked it!" Ashton called. He hoped he hadn't. They really didn't want to try standing up at the moment. Seemed like it would go poorly.

The door opened and shut behind Laudna quietly, like she was trying not to make a lot of noise. "Here," she whispered (not in the creepy magic way this time, just the normal way). She held out a mug. "I'm honestly not sure what exactly is in this one, but Imogen says it helps."

Ashton took the mug and sniffed the liquid curiously. It smelled sharp, definitely herbal, a little minty. Not bad. Not his first choice for an evening drink, but not bad. They took a sip. "Not bad," they confirmed out loud. "And you don't have to fuckin' whisper around me, I won't shatter if you talk loudly."

"Noise doesn't make it worse? It does for Imogen, I suppose I was just being cautious," Laudna said.

Ashton shrugged and winced.

"But moving does make it worse," Laudna observed.

Technically, they hadn't confirmed Laudna's migraine theory at all. Maybe if he just stayed really still, she would go away and stop asking questions. They gave it a shot.

Nope. "Are you in a lot of pain?" Laudna asked after just a few seconds, with all the lack of tact and boundary awareness that Ashton actually admired about her.

"Hm. You know what? Never mind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway," Ashton said. He took another drink of the tea. It was a little numbing as it hit the back of their throat--not quite like alcohol or other drugs, more like ice on a bruise. It didn't fix anything, but it felt...alright. "Yeah, fuckin' hurts. Weird magic shit Milo poured in there to make it work again--" He reached up and tapped the glass lightly with one finger (and still gritted his teeth when it sent a reverberation through their broken skull). "Fucks me up sometimes. After it does shit in a fight, especially."

"Does anything help?" Laudna asked, leaning forward and propping her chin up on her hands.

"Just...sleep, usually. Lots of it." They paused, taking another swig of the tea. "But this isn't bad," he repeated.

She smiled, wide and unsettling. "Good." Another minute of silence. "Why hadn't you told us about the headaches before?"

"None of anyone's fuckin' business," Ashton said amicably.

"That's fair!"

“I mean, ‘m not hiding it. Been with you all long enough, it might come up. Is coming up. Probably should tell you all--” Ashton's vision blurred and shifted and cast the whole room in outlines of blue and red. He must have swayed visibly, because Laudna reached out and grabbed his mug right before he could drop it. Breathing heavily, too distracted to even care about Laudna watching this happen, they closed their eyes. Inhaled. Let their arms go limp. Exhaled. Felt the weight, the incessant weight, swirl in his brain as bright colors exploded with pain behind his left eyelid. They let the wave break over them, losing contact with their body for a second or two. Or five. Or...sixty. Who knew?

"Forty-three, forty-four, forty-five," Laudna was counting quietly.

"Fuck," Ashton groaned.

"Are you back with me?"

"Think so. Fuck, were you counting how long I was out?" That was a wild concept.

"Mm, I was taught that it was important to know how long if someone blacked out like that. Call it old-fashioned."

They had fallen backwards onto the bed. They didn't try to sit back up. "You said like, forty-something seconds?"

"That's what it seemed like. Was that normal, or would you like me to get Fresh Cut Grass?" said Laudna.

"Fuck, no. I mean, don't bother them, they can't help anyway. They've tried." Cautiously, Ashton moved his hand up and rubbed his eyes. The tensing of muscles in their shoulder to move made everything swirl and spin again, and it felt for a few seconds like gravity got less intense, causing a drop in the pit of their stomach and a quiet gasp before things settled again. They tried not to whimper.

"Time to go to sleep?" Laudna suggested.

"Mm-hmm," Ashton managed.

"Need help with anything, since I'm here?" she said.

Painfully, they pulled their legs up onto the bed and curled up on their side. The weird starfield in his vision intensified, threatening to make him pass out again, and they breathed shallowly. "Nah. I'll be fine tomorrow. No guarantee how late I'll sleep, and if any of you fuckers wake me up before like, noon, expect a punch in the face and for me to be completely useless all day."

"Understandable." Laudna wasn't walking away.

"Goodnight," Ashton said pointedly.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked.

“I don’t give a shit, but I do want to sleep and I’m not gonna talk to you anymore.” He grabbed the pillow and kind of buried his face in it. “Too fucking tired to be social.”

"Ahh. Goodnight, then," Laudna told them.

They mumbled something indistinct in response and was asleep before she left the room.

#ashton greymoore #laudna #bell's hells #critical role fic #my writing

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sociallyawkwardfoxwriter · 2 years

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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Major Character Death Category: M/M Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series),Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) Relationships: Orym/Dorian Storm, Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield Characters: Orym (Critical Role), Dorian Storm, Leon S. Kennedy, Chris Redfield, Rebecca Chambers, Imogen Temult, Ashton Greymoore, Cyrus Wyvernwind, Piers Nivans, Laudna (Critical Role), Fearne Calloway Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Nightmares, Burns, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Orym's Dead Spouse (Critical Role), Sobbing, Human Experimentation, Stitches, drugged, Hospitals, Injury Recovery, Chronic Pain, Scars, Strangulation, Panic, Mind Control, Dissociation, Depression

Day Seventeen. Self-Inflicted Wound

“I think we're far enough away that we can stop to rest for a little while, brother.”

“Considering Lord Eshteross told us the bounty on you is enough for people to chase you to the edges of Marquet, I don't think that's true.”

“All the same,” A hand gave his shoulder a firm squeeze that he knew wouldn’t release until he finally relented. “I think we can spare a few hours to rest. You've been pushing yourself for hours. You need a break.”

“Fine, but only because I know you won't stop asking if we don't. We'll rest for an hour, then we keep moving.”

After stepping off the main path a little ways to find a suitable spot, they both found space to rest their weary legs. Both stayed in silence while they took time to drink water and eat a small snack to tide them over for a while. In that silence, he tried to not let the thoughts threatening to overtake him get a foothold. He had counted on Cyrus to fill the void where his traveling companions used to be before they left. It had taken the distraction to avoid the question of whether he made the right decision in doing so.

Hadn't that been why he didn't even say a word to the others when he decided to get his brother out of Jrusar? All he left was a single note addressed to the group and the two sending stones that rightfully belonged to them. A part of him had considered only leaving one, but that felt like asking for them to follow him or for them to convince them to come back. That's also why the letter he wrote to Orym was now crumpled in his bag-at least that's what he kept telling himself. He couldn't bring himself to consider the other reasons he might have had for crumpling it up.

“What are you thinking about?”

“We should get moving.”

“You wouldn't be making that face if that's what you were thinking about.”

“I'm not making a face.”

“Yes, you are. It's like...” Cyrus put on an exaggerated frown with his bottom lip stuck out and eye downcast. “That's what you look like right now.”

“No, I don't. I don't think anyone has ever made that face except for you.”

“You get the point! You're obviously thinking about something. Talk to me.”

“We should get moving, Cyrus. If someone was following us, we're giving them time to catch up or come up with a plan to get you.”

“We'll be fine for a few more minutes. Just talk to me, Dorian. You showed up out of nowhere saying we needed to get out of the city and find a way to leave Marquet. I thought we would be meeting your friends, but that's obviously not happening. Did something happen? Are they the ones you think are following us?”

“No, of course not! They wouldn't do that. None of them would do that.”

“Then what's going on? You've been quiet the entire time. Something is wrong. You might have changed, but I can still tell that much.”

For a moment, a lie danced on the tip of his tongue-it would be so much easier, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. “They're not coming because I didn't tell them. They've already risked so much to try to clear up this bounty. I couldn't ask them to do more than they already have.”

“You didn't tell them anything?”

“I left a note explaining things to them, but I didn't talk to them about it.”

“Why not? Aren't they your friends? I'm sure they would understand.”

“They would have wanted to come, and I couldn't let them do that.”

“Shouldn't that be their decision to make?” When Dorian couldn't find the words to respond, Cyrus shifted closer, so their shoulders bumped together. “What's the real reason you didn't tell them your plan? They obviously care about you. If they didn't, they wouldn't have tried to help me. I'm a complete stranger to them.”

“That's the problem. They care too much.”

“Isn't that a good thing?”

“Not if it gets them killed.”

“Is that all you're worried about?”

“Of course, I'm worried about that! I wouldn't have bothered getting you out of Jrusar if I wasn't worried about that.”

“I know you're worried about that, but I don't think that's the only reason you didn't tell the others.”

“What other reason do I have?”

“When you gave me that rock, you said someone else would have the other one and that you trusted them. I think you meant more than that.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Do you love them?”

“It doesn't matter.” After pulling on his bag, Dorian quickly stood up. “I can't risk them getting hurt because of me. It's better to take the decision out of their hands.”

“What happens if they try to follow us? They could still end up getting hurt and you wouldn't be able to help.”

“They won't. I didn't tell them where we were going. All I told them is I'm getting you to safety and I'll come back after I do that.”

“Do you really think that will stop them from trying?”

“It has to be enough.”

“You shouldn't have left them. I know you didn't want to. You were happy with them. Happier than I've ever seen you before. I don't want you to risk losing that.”

To fight back the tears threatening to slip free, Dorian took a moment to breathe before speaking. “That's what I'm doing. They might be mad at me when I come back, but it's worth it knowing they'll all survive. All I'm trying to do is keep them safe. Hopefully, they understand that.”

“What if they don't?”

“It will still be worth it. As long as they're alive, it's worth it.”

“I don't like that you're putting your happiness at risk for me. You could be walking away from the love of your life right now!”

“I don't want to talk about that, Cyrus. He'll understand. He always does, and he's safe with the group. They'll protect him. I know they will.”

“No matter what happens, promise me you'll go back to him. I like seeing my brother happy.”

“I will. That was always the plan. It might take longer than I'd like, but I'll go back to him when it's safe.”

“Good.” The smile Cyrus gave him was so reassuring that it almost did enough to stem the bleeding of his wounded heart. “What do you say we go a few more hours, then call it a night?”

“Sounds like a good plan. Stick close to me. We don't want to lose each other.”

“I'll be right behind you the whole time.”

#febuwhump2022 #febuwhumpday17 #self-inflicted wounds #critical role #dorym #dorian storm #cyrus wyvernwind #hurt/comfort #fanfic

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