#nobody fucks with jesters mama
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FUCK IT, AU TIME!
I got inspired by @pepperoni-chips’ au and decided to make my own.
TL;DR: GHS meets Japanese myths and that one fae rule
Plot
It’s been half a year since Gregory House became aware of a new hotel and sent their first expeditionist (A random JB that nobody would miss). Gold wanted a break from the hotel and ask Gregory if he could leave. To his surprise, the old rat said yes…But not as how he looked now, besides, they needed someone to find that last expeditionist. Gold, now dubbed “Gabriel”, ends up at Laplace itself. There’s only one objective, find that JB and get out…Oh, and another thing; Don’t tell them your real name at any cost.
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Characters:
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“GABRIEL”
Gabriel is the main character of the au. He is JBG in disguise, using a soul to hide his true appearance…Unfortunately for him, that soul belonged to a teenager who just hit puberty. All he wanted was a day away from the hotel, and he got to visit Gregory House’s kaizo mode cousin.
“THE RADIO”
Of course Gregory wasn’t going to just let one of his first guests walk straight into a potential death trap without guidance, so he dug out an old radio and hooked the other end up to an anonymous helper. They know a little too much about Laplace for comfort…Oh yeah, the old expeditionist used to send letters of his findings.
“YOKO”
The fox that runs Laplace. Despite the name, she is not a Yōko, she’s actually based off a Myōbu. She is quite strict, but that’s her job as the runner of Laplace. Like Gregory, she has a “one-winged angel” form, which is based off a Tenko.
“PONPOKO”
The tanuki that acts as Neko Zombie’s stand in. Like how NZ and Gregory’s relationship is based off the classic “cat vs mouse”, Yoko and Ponpoko’s relationship is based off the Japanese “Kitsune vs Tanuki”. He’s a much more jovial and round fellow.
“DR. RIVER”
A kappa that works as Laplace’s resident doctor. He is a kind man, in fact, he’s one of the more kinder residents in Laplace. Unlike Catherine, he will actually try to cure the guest’s illness and won’t just take them as live bait. He is also a man that’ll never break a promise. However, he is a little cowardly after an experience that made him put a helmet of water around his head.
“FAULT KID”
A Nopperabō who gets their kicks off enabling a guest’s despair. They usually change their appearance to reflect a person that the guest has wronged in the past. The only way to get rid of Fault Kid is to either ignore them or show a positive reaction instead of a negative reaction, then they’ll walk off to find someone else.
“POLY-SAN”
A arcade machine that plays a dating simulator on its screen. He seems like a regular arcade machine at first, but the more the in-game Poly-san gets attached to you, the more he reveals that he’s sentient. Poly-san is a Yandere who’ll even harm his “lover” if they “cheat”. Basically Catherine without the chest.
“COLD GIRL”
A young yuki onna that always cold. She wanders the halls, hoping to find a way to satiate her hunger for warmth. Should a guest hug her, they’ll suffer from an incurable sensation of coldness that’ll be around for at least an hour. She also has a mother called “Cold Mama” who is a tsurara onna with a similar yet worse coldness.
“RISADA”
A Warai onna dressed like a jester. She’s usually in the hallway practicing tricks. If a guest approaches Rasada, she’ll purposely fail her trick and begin laughing. Sooner or later, the guest will begin to laugh as well. Even after she leaves, they’ll still be laughing until they either pass out from the lack of air or they’re snapped out of it.
“HANGING BOY”
A Teru-Teru Bōzu who likes to play the game “hangman”. He’ll give the guest hints so they can spell the right word. It may be a simple game to him, but with that rope that spawned around the guests neck, it’s a game of life or death.
“THE KING”
An oni that’s behind Laplace’s creation. He has three servants: a blind one named “Mizar”, a deaf one named “Kika” and a mute one named “Iwa”. He is, as the title would imply, in cahoots with Yoko, the person running Laplace.
“THE MANZAI”
The current beating heart of Laplace. This is the fate of the first expeditionist. After he faced all the trials of Laplace, his escape prevented by one fatal mistake: He said his real name. But that’s a mistake that won’t be repeated, right Gabriel?
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That’s my lore dump done, feel free to ask me about my AU. I’m really passionate about it! Okay bye!
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I’ve been catching up on Critical Role. Episode 35. Listen, the most on brand thing this group of chaotic assholes has done so far is go from 0 to 1000% on the dude harassing Jesters mom. The only person I go that hard for is my mom. You be your ass I’m cutting this jackass’s hand off, ruining his career, and shipping him off to a distant land with a new identity. He’s lucky that all they do. Motherfuckers don’t mess with someone’s mama unless they wanna get fucked up. M9, you’re doing great sweeties *blows kisses*
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Campaign 2 Rewatch: The Midnight Chase
Fantastic start! Jester has no spells lmao! Gooooood… ROLL INITIATIVE 🤩
Yo, I know I made a post about this already buuuut I love Fjord & Caleb’s dynamic just saying, LETS PUNCH SOME ZOMBIES!!! Travis being a Hamilfan brings me so much joy. Guess what Laura! The Cantata Pansophical has you covered in regards to your characters being n Hamilton lol!
Dayuuuuum Molly that was badass! If only we could’ve seen you at higher levels hot damn! Tear em up Sam! Tear em up! God I miss Fury of The Small! Sacred Flame! Hell yeah! “Frumpikin, frumpy, lumpy come here!” I love you Jester lmao. Nobody’s used to Fjord’s cowboy accent yet lmao. Man Marisha is so competent with Beau now it’s weird watching her figuring it out.
Is this one of the first (and maybe only?) time Frumpkin is actually on the battlefield? 🤔 lol “I knew that would come back to bite you in the anus!” Oh wow this is before the snitch got stole.
Molly KOs (first KO of the campaign!) @ 31:14 by a zombie (high key it’s actually wild to me he was the first to drop considering everything that happens later??? So many c i n e m a t i c p a r a l e l l s) having failed one death save, Molly comes back around at 43:18 by natural forces with a Spare The Dying assist from Jester!
“I AM THE CLERIC?!” Jester is fuckinh iconic. “I am a very wise person 😊” *lifts entire guard body* lmao. Fjord being in awe of everyone’s magic continues to be adorable! I love Caleb’s little shrug when Nott asks if they’re going with the group lmao. “Horses are the new door”? oh gawd M9 wait until you hear about CHAIRS 😂
OH MY GOD Nott is such a doting mother lmao, oh you want those books? Here! 10 gold! And Caleb is just like 🤩😍 they’re so effing cute good lord. “Ohhhhh… I am so happy” *swoops Nott up in his arms with joy over books* YOUR HONOR I LOVE HIMMM
Fucking echo vibes of vex and Vax from that book interaction awwww. Liam having to break character cuz his friends are ridiculous like “please god I need to actually read this.” 🤣 Ohhhh god here come the Fjord is a Seaman jokes. I’m glad those don’t stay forever 😂🙄
God I forgot what a massive deal mustering spell components used to be, so much drama over turning Frumpkin into a bird 😂. God here we go with the harassing Caleb while he’s tuned out for Frumpkin recon. Poor dude is just tired lol. They’ll grow on you Caleb I promise! Awwwww Jester braiding Caleb’s hairrrrr
Fjord being Impressed by Magic part #103837364648, “oh man! I’ve been concentrating on skinky doodles all day!” JESTER I LOVE YOU SO GODDAMN MUCH. “Do you have positions at the circus for these two?” Love you too Caleb <3
“BECAUSE IM WEIRD!” I miss Molly and Beau so goddamn much so so so much. The more I watch them the more I’m like “wow no wonder Molly had such a massive impact on her.” Like, woah.
I love watching Fjord flex his deception/persuasion/intimidation the way Travis expresses it is so damn GOOD. That old man ploy is fantastic, love it. “Ugh this sprained ankle is affecting my wisdom” please 😂 “dungeons and dragons is about punishment” asdfghklgllgjhjjlkl
The birth of Narrative Telephone! Lol “something about being deflowered.” God the witch hut thing lmao “I’ve god rules for this shit in a book!” 😈 kinda weird considering the Hag they encounter later :) it’s so weird how the dots don’t stop connecting!
Yikes! Time for Beau to start punching children! Hooray? Such a GRAND departure from Keyleth (/j). Hoooo boy big fight big fight big fiiiiiight!! Marisha is allowed to be a little salty, as a treat, lmao. WOO! First Hexblade’s curse! Yeehaw!
Goddamn I love how scary vicious Nott becomes when her boy is in danger! Get it Nott! “I got a spell save DC y’all!” Love it! 😂
Caleb KOs at 3:16:32 by an imp, two successful death saves, one failed, and is resuscitated at 3:40:13 with a nat 20 medicine check from Nott as she gives him mouth to mouth. Goblin mama saves her garbage Wizard son heck yeah!
FJORD gets the SECOND (big) HDYWTDT of the campaign!
Only to have an imp KO Fjord at 3:30:16 one failed death save, and is resucitated at 3:39:53 thanks to a cure wounds from Jester. I loved the simultaneous “Fjord!” from Molly & Jester. Them Tieflings loves their half-orc hyperfixation. Come to think of it, they’re the ones rescuing him in the troll fight too!
Poor Caleb and Fjord only knowing confusion and suffering when they’re brought back lmao. Hooray nobody died!
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So the other day I binged THG movies and, naturally, a Hunger Games AU popped into my dreams - strangely mostly centered around Marion lmao. But, like, I thought up other deets about everyone else’s circumstances??
So just to set a couple things: Exandrian Hunger Games have a wider net of ages who can enter THG, just since fantasy races are still a thing which means sometimes young adults of human (and similarly aging races) end up in the games.
Aaaand just because of plot stuff - Districts can ‘trade’ their HG-eligible children to other districts in exchange for rations and stuff. These children often end up with lotsss of slips in the reaping ball, because they either end up homeless or a family ‘adopts’ them into their house in exchange for them buying plenty of rations. Trading can only go from a higher district to a lower district - they cannot go higher.
Also, just for giggles, Wildemont and Tal’Dorei both have their own separate Hunger Games so like....................... yes, Vex definitely volunteers herself in Velora’s place Katniss style (Of course Vax, subsequently, volunteers himself with the intention of sacrificing himself for Vex).
But this post isn’t about the VM Hunger Games, but the M9 sooooooo...........
(spoilers about Caleb’s past and some details about Jester’s mom)
Caleb is from the equivalent of the ‘2nd’ district - a career district and the district where peacekeepers are made. He’s been training for the Hunger Games along with his 2 friends under Trent Ikathon for, a Mentor in The Hunger Games, since before he was of age to be in the Hunger Games.
Much as in canon, Trent tests his student’s loyalties and, in a similar set of circumstances, has them kill their parents for disloyalty to the Empire. Caleb does so but has regerts, which Trent senses. Trent decides it’ll be Astrid and Eodwulf who volunteer for this years’ games - because in this district that’s decided before hand I guess??? idk.
Anyway, Caleb ends up volunteering before Eodwulf can and Trent is piiiiiiiiiiiissed. The whole district is piiiiiiiiissed. Caleb don’t care. Caleb has plans. I’m not even sure what they are, but I’m sure they are drastic.
Meanwhile, over in the equivalent of District 4, the fishing district, Jester’s mother Marion is a previous victor of The Hunger Games - her nickname naturally being “The Ruby of the Sea”. After the horrors of the games, and the later horrors that the Capitol gave to her as a victor, she has agoraphobia and stays inside her living space much of the time. Her daughter, Jester, stays inside with her for the most part. Only the day of the reaping does Marion leave her house, because luckily there are three other victors in their District - one being Vandren though he had unfortunately recently died in a mysterious accident a few weeks before the reaping.
Jester has her name in the reaping ball only the minimum amount of times, so Marion is horrified when Jester’s name is picked. Without even needing to be asked, one of the other mentors immediately allows Marion to take her place as one of the two mentors for the games. Fjord volunteers himself soon after - not at all for Jester’s sake but to uncover the truth of Vandren’s death - the only clues he has being the names Uk’otoa and Avantika.
Marion asks that Fjord promise to stay close to Jester and protect her, to which he promises he’ll protect “her little girl” as best he can - but he also reminds her that he wants to live as well and that if it comes down to the two of them... well. Marion promises that it won’t come to that, plans of rebellion in her mind. She doesn’t just want to save her daughter from the horror of the games, but the horror of survival and what the Capitol does to it’s victors as well.
Jester promises her mother that she’ll be okay and win for her mama, though meanwhile Jester has made friends with a man named the Traveler, who no one else can see, but who encourages her to break the games. Jester is also a huge hit with the audience, winning everyone’s heart quickly.
Beau was born in the luxury district “1″ but after proving too difficult to even train as a career, she is a rare ration trade from District 1 (career districts generally aren’t pushed to the brink of needing to give away their children for measly rations) to 7 - the lumber and paper district. A previous victor Dairon takes an interest in Beau, however, and trains her for The Hunger Games. However she does not train Beau to win, but to destroy the games and even the country if she must.
Beau doesn’t really give a fuck about the mission that Dairon wants her to undertake (though she volunteers when asked) until she meets the rest of the tributes - by which I mean the M9 - and starts taking her mission more seriously. She is absolutely not beloved by the Empire’s Capitol audience.
Molly woke up in District 8 (Textiles!!) with no memories. He’s not even really sure he always lived there, because no one seems to recognize him, but no one can give him answers. Not that Molly looks for them, of course. When his name is picked from the reaping ball... Molly decides to dedicate the rest of his life making everyone deal with him and make it hell for those that put him there. He basically accepts he’s going to die in the games, but would like to die saving someone else if he can manage that.
Caduceus is from District 10 (livestock). When his name is called, Caduceus calmly accepts it as a trial the Wildmother has given him. Cad is completely unprepared when the Hunger Games actually begins and is pretty much traumatized by the violence in the Blood Bath.
Aaaaand then there is Nott, from the District 12 equivalent - mining. This District has all of the Empire’s Goblins and the non-Goblins of the District take advantage of that - every year 2 Goblins are chosen as sacrifices in which they are forced to trade for enough extra rations for the entire District, so many times that they are pretty much guaranteed to be chosen for the reaping. Nott is one of this year’s sacrifices and she really has no say in it.
There aren’t even any victors from District 12 for Nott to be mentored by - which really just cements how bleak things are for Nott. During training, Caleb helps Nott out of a scrap with some other tributes and she vows to dedicate herself to making sure he survives.
Meanwhile, Yasha was a trade-in switch from 5 to 9 (Grain)..... Or so the story goes. Another child who’d been traded from 5 to 9 was kidnapped and swapped out with Yasha. That was frankly to the kidnapped child’s fortune as she went back to District 13, which secretly still exists, from where Yasha originally came.
Yasha was switched out so she could volunteer herself for the Hunger Games under orders from The Storm Lord. She isn’t sure what she’s meant to be doing there, but she follows the signs as best as she can. While training at the Capitol of the Empire, Molly and Yasha make quick friends much to Yasha’s befuddlement. Receives a score of 11 in training.
Also I guess Shakäste is from District 13 and works with Marion?? To stop The Hunger Games????
Idk, maybe Kiri is a tribute from District 11 (Agriculture) that the M9 is desperately trying to save.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAand that’s pretty much it???? Or at least that’s all I got. Though I guess with that set up the M9 gotta form to destroy the fuck out of the Hunger Games???? Right??? Nobody dies ok lmao
If anyone is ~inspired~ by any of this, feel free to take it further and/or change w/e you want lmao.
#cr#critical role#cr 2#critical role: the mighty nein campaign#the mighty nein#cr spoilers#critical role spoilers#long post#thg#the hunger games#hunger games au#thg au#i scream#my crit role feels
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Chapter 4: Shifting through the Wheat
Just as suddenly as they had come, Caleb’s panicked and desperate cries stopped. His breathing eased, his shoulders relaxed, and his eyes creaked open.
He looked up into the concerned faces of Jester and Fjord, staring down at him intently.
He squinted and rubbed his eyes. “What…what just happened?”
Jester carefully helped him sit up, leaning him against the log and brushing the hair away from his face. He seemed to lean into her touch, and whimpered slightly when she pulled away.
“You were…in pain, we think,” she said slowly. “Uh…how do you feel?”
He prodded his forehead hesitantly. “I…I think I’m okay? I’m, um, not sure. I think something was…happening somewhere? But, but it stopped now.”
“Something was happening?” Fjord repeated. “What do you mean?”
The boy frowned. “I…I don’t know.” He rubbed his eyes again and looked at the adults with frustrated, terrified confusion. “It was just…it was just a weird feeling. Like the whole world was…wrong.”
Fjord and Jester exchanged glances.
“…wrong?” she prompted gently. “Can you tell us anything…more about that?”
Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “That’s…that’s it. I don’t, um…”
He reached up and wiped at the tears under his eyes, sniffling quietly. “Can…can I go home?” he asked. “I just… would just really like to go home, now.”
Fjord glanced at Jester, who nodded. He turned back to Caleb with a soft nod. “Of course,” he said, and reached out a hand. “Come on, kid. I’ll give you a ride on my shoulders?”
Caleb responded with a weak, tiny smile. “Ja,” he said softly. “Ja okay, that sounds like fun.”
•
Just as Nott and Caduceus were about to go sprinting off towards town to look for the others—weapons in hand and spells humming on their tongues—they looked up and saw the sky above changing again.
Wisps of pale blue were swirling around over the outer rim of the inky black tear, growing stronger, as if an invisible hand were carefully painting in the missing hues and repairing this picturesque landscape. Clouds started to bloom across the sky. The sun’s rays brightened the air, and within seconds the sky had healed, and there were no traces left of the terrible darkness beyond.
Neither of them moved. After a moment’s pause, Nott spoke:
“You know, uh, we used to have a saying back in my clan.”
“Oh? What was it?”
“Loosely translated? When the shit’s cleared away, the smell still lasts.”
Caduceus considered this. He looked down at Nott.
“It was mostly used to justify needlessly bloody vengeance,” she admitted, “but I think it might also apply in this situation.”
Caduceus nodded slowly. “In that case, I think we should probably find the others, yeah?”
“…yeah. Let’s do Beau and Yasha first. I think they’re closer by.”
•
They were, as it happened, both neck-deep in the nearby fields, crouched down and frantically shifting through the wheat. Beau was shouting something wild and incomprehensible, and Yasha’s face was a mask of stoic calm. For those that knew her well, it betrayed just how confused and terrified she felt.
“What’s up?” Nott called as they approached. She had her hood up, tried to draw as little attention to herself as possible by hiding behind Caduceus. Oddly enough, nobody around them seemed to be paying them any mind. Instead, all the farmers were looking down, moving rhythmically, completely absorbed in their work. They didn’t react in the slightest to the goblin and the firbolg barreling past. They didn’t even remark as loose grain flew through the air. And even when Nott tripped and fell in front of one man, he stared right through her as if she weren’t there.
In any other situation, it would have been a relief. But right here, right now, after everything else, it was terrifying.
Luckily, Beau and Yasha immediately acknowledged their arrival.
“Thank the gods you’re here,” Beau said. “Something really fucking creepy just happened.” She pointed down into the wheat. “A guy was just, like, eaten by the ground.”
Caduceus shrugged. “That’s not creepy,” he said, “that’s part of the natural cycle of life and death.”
Beau groaned and went back to kicking around broken stalks, muttering something under her breath about clueless hippies, don’t know how to communicate—
Yasha sighed. “It was not like you are thinking,” she said. “It was almost as if…as if the earth beneath him opened up and swallowed him whole. He was just standing here a moment ago, and then he vanished.”
Without even missing a beat, Nott immediately scrambled up onto the first thing she could find, which happened to be Caduceus. He took this in stride, calmly allowed her to cling to the back of his armor like a panicked koala.
“What the fuck?!” she yelled. “What?”
“Like I said,” Beau grumbled. “Creepy.”
“Did that happen when the sky ripped open?” Nott demanded. “Are we going to die now? Is the ground going to eat all of us?”
“Yes,” said Caduceus. “Eventually.”
“Gods above,” said Beau.
Nott rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Hang on, hang on,” Yasha held up a hand. “When the sky did what?”
“When it ripped open,” Nott repeated. “What, did you not see that?”
“We were kind of too busy to notice,” Beau snapped. “We were dealing with a disappearing farmer.”
“Now, now,” Caduceus said, “let’s all take a deep breath and not say anything we’d regret.”
“The only thing I’d regret is—”
“Beauregard,” Yasha said, and Beau reluctantly settled down.
“The disappearing farmer is something that I would not want to leave unaddressed,” Yasha said, “but if you two were also experiencing strange things, then we should go find the others. What if something happened near them as well? What if they are in danger? We cannot leave them alone.”
“Shit, yeah,” Beau said. “Plus they’re with tiny Caleb now too, right?”
Nott’s eyes went wide. “Fuck,” she said.
Yasha and Beau both stood and wiped the dirt off their pants.
“Come on then,” said Beau. “We should hurry.”
•
They all sprinted into view just as Fjord was helping Caleb off his shoulders at the edge of the dirt road leading up towards the Widogast home. Caduceus was completely out of breath, and after spending the last fifteen minutes in what felt like a horror story, the rest didn’t feel much better off.
“There you are,” said Yasha, coming to a halt along the path. “We were worried about you.”
“Worried?” Jester asked. “Why were you worried?”
“Did you guys miss it too, then?” Beau asked, and Fjord sighed.
“You’re gonna have to slow down and back it up,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“The sky was wounded,” Caduceus said. “A large hole opened up right above us. Beau and Yasha believe a man was eaten alive by grass.”
Fjord, Jester, and Caleb stared at him. Slowly, as one, they turned towards the girls for an explanation.
“It sounds very insane,” Yasha agreed. “But he is telling it exactly as it happened.”
“This whole place is fucked up!” Beau said. “The sky is falling, and Max got swallowed by some—”
Caleb piped up. “Who’s Max?” he asked.
She stopped. She stared. “What?”
Caleb’s bright curiosity faltered under her intense gaze. “Um…” he said, “…um…I just wanted to know who Max is. That’s alright, right?”
“What are you talking about?” Beau asked. “How do you not know who Max is?”
Caleb shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know,” he said. “Is he new to this town?”
“He is not,” Yasha said. Her eyes narrowed slowly. “He has lived here his entire life.”
“Hey,” Jester said, now also watching Caleb intently, “Beau, before Max disappeared, is there any chance that you were asking him a bunch of questions?”
“Not really,” she shrugged. “It was mostly just one question.”
“But over and over again,” Yasha pointed out.
“Ah,” Jester said. “I see.”
“Caleb?” Fjord asked, catching on, “are you sure you don’t remember who Max is?”
“No,” he said, and shifted again. “No, I am sorry.”
Jester gave him a reassuring pat on the hand. “It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Yasha looked down at Caleb from her towering height. “Boy, do you know a child in this town named, I believe, ‘Charlotte’?”
He nodded immediately. “Ja,” he said. “I play with her all the time.”
“And do you know someone named Emilia?” Beau immediately asked. “Or another girl called Lena?”
He nodded again. “Ja, I do. Emilia is old now and doesn’t have time to spend with us anymore, and Lena is really little. They are sisters.”
“You know them well?” Yasha asked. “Are you friends with them?”
“I think so,” Caleb shrugged. “I’m friends with everybody, I think.”
“Who’s their dad?” Beau asked. “What’s his name?”
Caleb opened his mouth to answer, and then hesitated. He met Beau’s inquisitive stare with wide, confused eyes. “They…er…their mama’s name is Clara,” he said haltingly.
Beau shook her head. “Their dad,” she said. “What about him?”
Caleb frowned. “Their…their dad?”
“Yes,” said Yasha. “What is his name?”
“I don’t…I…they don’t have a dad,” he said. “I…I would know, right?”
“It’s Max,” Beau huffed, and crossed her arms. “Come on, kid, connect the dots.”
“But…but I don’t know a Max,” Caleb murmured. “Max…doesn’t exist?”
He blinked. His puzzled expression was wavering, flickering, now twisting into something scared and small and helpless and instantly, horrifyingly, recognizable to Jester and Fjord. They moved forward just in time to catch him, and gently lowered him to his knees.
And then, once again, there was that same dissonant chord, streaking through the air and slicing at their ears. Nott and Caduceus both looked up grimly and right there, above their heads, was another rip in the sky. The others looked up, and their eyes went wide.
Caleb squeaked. “What…what is that?” he asked.
“Fuck me,” said Fjord. “You all…you weren’t kidding, huh?”
“It must be because we’re poking holes in his world,” Beau realized. “That must be causing this.”
“But what does that mean?” Nott whispered. “And what do we do about it?”
“I don’t really know,” Fjord said, “but I’m guessing—”
The door to the Widogasts’ home burst open.
Two figures appeared on the front steps. It was Caleb’s mother and father, who immediately strode swiftly across the grass and up to the dirt path to where the Mighty Nein stood around a kneeling Caleb.
“Ah,” said his mother. “You’ve brought him home.”
“Thank you,” said his father. “Just in time for lunch.”
The group looked up. And then they all frowned at the bright and sunny afternoon sky above them.
“What the shit?” said Beau.
“There…it’s fixed?” said Jester.
“Come on,” said Caleb’s mother, ignoring them. “Say goodbye to your friends.”
“We made your favorite food,” said Caleb’s father, then stepped forward to help the boy get to his feet. “You must be exhausted, after learning so much magic today.”
Caleb nodded. And though he was still feeling rather unsettled, he looked relieved at the sight of his parents. He turned to the Nein with a hesitant smile.
“Thank you, um, for teaching me today,” he said. “It was pretty fun before…before all the weird stuff started happening.”
His mother reached out a hand, and Caleb took it.
“It was nice seeing you all once more,” she said.
“Please, feel free to come back tomorrow,” his father said.
“Hang on, hang on,” Beau said. “You can’t just…take him away. We were in the middle of something! Not to mention that, that the…the sky was gone before! Why aren’t we talking about that?”
“Nonsense,” said his mother.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said his father.
“It was, though,” Caleb said hesitantly. “It was…a little scary.”
His mother gave him a pleasant, blank smile. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “We’re here now.”
“Um…are you sure?” Caleb asked. “Will it happen again?”
“Of course not,” his father said.
“What an imagination you have,” his mother said, and pulled him forwards. “Come on now. Time to go home.”
Caleb opened his mouth to say something, but his father gave him a stern look.
“Listen to your mother now,” he said.
“You wouldn’t want to disappoint us, would you?” they asked in unison.
The boy’s hand instantly went limp. “No,” he sighed, and dropped his chin. “Verzeihung.”
With that, his parents turned, Caleb in tow, and began to walk away. Fjord quickly looked back at the others and mouthed, somebody do something!
Beau immediately nodded. And before anybody else could stop her, before anybody could even react, she wound her arm back and threw herself forward and decked Mrs. Widogast across the face with the force of her entire body.
Of course, the woman went flying backwards. Her hand broke away from Caleb’s and she dropped to the ground like a broken doll.
Many things happened next.
“What the fuck! Beau, why did you do that?!”
“What?! What?! I thought that’s what you wanted me to do!”
“No, godsdammit! I just, fucking hell, I thought you were going to say something?!”
“What was there to say? She was gonna kidnap him from us!”
“But why punch her?!”
“Come on, you saw how creepy they were too, right?! There’s no way that could have ended well! And besides, this isn’t even real!”
“It’s real to Caleb,” Jester hissed. “And now…”
The two remaining Widogasts were crouched down in the grass around the fallen form of Caleb’s mother. His father had a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and Caleb’s body was shaking.
He looked up. His face spoke of terror, and anger, and distress, and betrayal.
“Why did you do that?” he whispered. “Why did you attack Mama?”
His father wrapped and arm around Caleb and pressed his son close. “All of you, leave this place,” he said.
“Please,” said Nott, stepping forward, “please, just let us—”
Caleb screamed, eyes blowing wide. “It’s a goblin! Papa, help me, it’s a goblin!”
Nott froze. Something at the back of her mind shouted for her to move, to get out, to run away. But, mostly, she just felt numb. She couldn’t seem to control her body anymore.
The others immediately closed in and blocked her from view.
“She’s friendly,” Jester said, visibly distraught by the whole situation. “Just, just give us a second to expl—“
“Get out,” his father said. “Get…get out! Can’t you see how upset you’ve made him?”
“How upset we’ve made him?” Beau demanded. “It’s not fucking us! It’s this stupid, fucking world! Everything in here is fucked up and weird and it’s not even real! It’s not real! Wake up!” she shouted at Caleb.
“I know she’s yelling,” Caduceus said soothingly, “but you have to know by now that something is very wrong.”
“This has been going on for long enough already,” Yasha nodded.
“Think of Max,” Fjord added. “Think of the sky!”
“Think about us,” Jester begged. “Come on, you must remember us!”
Caleb was crying even harder now, tears streaking down his face. “I don’t…I don’t understand what’s happening!” he sobbed. “I don’t, I don’t—Papa, do something!”
Leofric Widogast cradled the back of his son’s head. His dark eyes bore into the imploring group, watched them move forward with a careful, calculating stare.
He glanced back down at his son.
And then he did something very odd.
“Vertraust du mir?” he asked.
Caleb nodded back frantically. “Ja, Papa, ja.”
Leofric smiled, and leaned down and pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead. When he pulled back, he was studying the boy’s face intently.
Caleb’s brow slowly furrowed with confusion. Then his eyes began to flutter. And then, out of nowhere, his head sagged and his shoulders fell and he slumped down into his father’s arms, completely unconscious.
And then, as one, the Mighty Nein experienced the strange sensation of a complete, overwhelming weightlessness.
The world around them went dark.
•
Fjord opened his eyes.
His vision was blurry, but he managed to struggle up into a sitting position. He groaned, and rubbed his face with his sleeve.
He paused.
He looked down.
This was not his usual armor.
Instead, he was wearing some kind of long, loose-flowing robe of pristine ivory-white, trimmed at the edges with a deep, dark blue. The bed where he was resting was completely foreign and bewildering as well—the sheets were some kind of thick, indigo fabric that was luxurious to the touch, and much more refined than anything Fjord had ever seen in his life.
“Well,” said a slow, low voice across the room. “I’ll admit it. This is weird.”
Fjord’s gaze darted up. Across this small room—similarly decorated with rich blues and purples, walls of dark wood and warmly carpeted floors—was another bed.
Atop it, a tall, lanky figure in another set of ivory and blue robes.
“Hey there, Fjord,” said Caduceus Clay. “Have you, uh, have you got any idea what’s going on, here?”
Fjord gingerly ran a hand through his hair. He shook his head.
“Alrighty then,” Caduceus nodded. “That’s no problem. I figured I should ask, just in case.”
“Caduceus?”
“Yeah?
”He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck."
Caduceus nodded sympathetically. "Yeah,” he said. “I think I can see where you're coming from."
• • •
💚 ☕ ☕ 💚
#oh boy can you guys tell that this story is REALLY getting away from me#critical role#cr2#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#jay writes#where all the dreamers go#the mighty nein#ensemble fic#critfic#text#long post
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It's been a few hours since the end of the last episode. I actually passed out a lot earlier than expected but I only took an hour nap or whatever.
I'm still in ruins. I seriously can't stop crying over them. I need some kind of catharsis so even if I cry I think I just need to write whatever nonsense I need to about the Mighty Nein and Critical Role.
One of the first episodes of Critical Role that made me laugh to the point of falling to my hands and knees and just die was episode 11. It was so fucking funny. The fact that Matthew prepped a smut shop just for Liam O'Brian. The beginning of the tales of Tusk Loooove.
God and the discourse of Nott being treated the way she was by the group to begin with, like she was the child and Caleb was the father when it always truly was the other way around. And the freakiness behind the way Nott needed Caleb to become stronger. And I feel like it mellowed and turned into a want for him to become stronger, no longer for her but for himself. And in the end Nott joined Caleb and eventually Essek and aided in helping herself become Veth again. And I love her family. Her biggest fan and number one supporter, Yeza. And their crazy son who will be raised by the most questionable of influences but also the most fiercely loving group.
And her best friend, Caleb. A haunted soul who mistreated himself for far too long. He gave a visual on the outside to show how he felt on the inside and slowly but surely he cleaned himself up. The sheer force of radiant positivity that Jester showed him and the hard love that Beauregard punched into him and the laughter that he shared with all of them over and over and over again. Tried he did to keep it in his head that he didn't need them, or worse, that he didn't deserve them, but he steadied himself in their unyielding embrace on him and I think somewhere along the way he just finally allowed himself to take everything that the Mighty Nein gave to him and hold it to his heart and never let go after. Relinquishing Frumpkin was his release of the grief from his past so that he could look forward and become a flame that brings life instead of one that destroys it. I have no doubt that even if he does not see the fruits of his labor in his lifetime, that it will ripple into the future and the country he truly loves will see an era without corruption.
And Jester, the little blue Tiefling that everyone found themselves utterly charmed and enraptured by. Full of love and chaos alike. She will never lose her touch of sweet purity, no matter what is thrown at her. She is resilient and determined and brilliant and nobody could ever hold a candle to her trickery and creativity. She is masterful in her craft and equally as passionate. She's kind and sweet and she cares so deeply for everyone around her. She's funny and weird and goofy and even the gloomiest, most stoic of people cannot help but break out into a smile when she's near. Even with little experience, but a deep desire to experience everything that she can, she's perfectly in tune with others. Somehow she always knows the right time to say the right thing, lending her light to those in need of it. And slowly she's been learning to not hide behind her smile when she finds that she just can't keep it up for the time being. She doesn't always open up about her true feelings, but when she does even the simplest of words carry such intensity and heavy weight to them, like the way her words of joy do, and people cannot help but listen. And most of all, she loves her mama. It wasn't the perfect childhood, but she gets to make up for it in her freedom as an adult and she'll always eagerly await the return to her mama to rapidly tell her every little detail of her adventure. She is a gift to the world and I cannot imagine her ever losing her ability to awe people with her pure unabashed strangeness and the pure joy she gets just from being who she is. And when she takes that trip to the Feywilds with Artie, and maybe the rest of the Nein if they so wish, she will have the Fey wrapped around her little sapphire finger.
Fjord, the texblade once upon a time ago. Ashamed and insecure and traumatized just because he was a little Half-Orc. Hating the amazing parts of himself for so long because he was treated cruelly. He wanted to be anyone but himself, someone who could be inspiring and respected by those around him just so they wouldn't turn to the alternative. But a little encouragement here, a compliment there, some teasing, and immense amounts of gratitude. If he couldn't keep up the facade that he was powerful then what was the point of pretending to be a powerful person. But some more encouragement and compliments and way more teasing and gratitude brought about an epiphany. Who needs to pretend when you are. He is so easy to follow behind and to respect. And while he has a sharp tongue with a commanding presence he's been humbled enough that he can just revert to a normal Half-Orc who's a little bit awkward, yells out "Eldritch Blast" when he shoots them, filled with some squeals and uncertainty, and it's perfectly fine. He may be cunning and witty and a formidable opponent, but at the end of the day, Fjord is just an awkward, humorous and caring person. It's not just his powers or his skills that make him great. His authenticity is attractive and his company is heavily sought after because of his attitude and his personality. And he loves the sea. And although he still has remnants of the curse that he bears to deal with, he was able to return to the place he loved most with the people he loved most as the best version of himself so far.
Beauregard is laughing in retrospect with the knowledge of how her past self would react to the immense difference in everything. Her disposition was the most visibly changed. She's still a little hot-headed asshole at times. She's lost no bit of snark, nor horniness, nor pure tenacity, but time and time again she proved that she was above all the bullshit. She is loving and no longer disallows herself to be loved. She's respected and she won't let anyone treat her with less than she knows she deserves. She's a nerd and she revels in it. She loves her organization, her notes, her theories, and she just loves her work. And even if there's no one around to see it, the pure self-satisfaction she receives from her accomplishments outrivals any audience's cheers and applause, but ya know there's nothing wrong with an audience either. She's more than her anger, she's more than her pain, she's more than her father's cruelty and when she returns to TJ she will pour all of her wisdom and knowledge into him. Like the same way the Mighty Nein did for her. The love, the dumb ideas, the heartache, the late nights out, the happiness, and the countless other lessons she learned from and with the Mighty Nein along the way, she'll be sure to pass it onto her brother. She's fighting the good fight with her Empire brother and living the good life with her eventual wife. Finally accepting her title as a nerd, she thirsts for all kinds of knowledge, especially the knowledge to be learned from the hearts and minds of the people she loves. And she will always be on the lookout for the cycle of abuse and the first one to step up to break them.
Yasha is truly the softest at heart. She's not great with her words and she's still uncertain, but even though she was beaten down into the Earth she found the strength to get back up. She was used and controlled countless times and she fought and she fought and she fought. She's certainly good at what she does but after all the hard work she put in to break free from her penance, she just wants a simple life. She wants the life that she wanted to have with Zuala, to run away somewhere and to be left alone to live out their days in peace and happiness. And she wants a place for her to be in control. Where no one can force her to hurt the people that she loves when all she wants to do is protect. She wants to go where the Mighty Nein goes because they're the only people who accepted her for all of her trauma and weirdness and they never gave up on her, even when she wanted to give up on herself.
Caduceus Clay. There are too many things to say about him that I barely have anything to say at all. He united them in so many ways. Kept them together, and kept them on the right path. He brought so much goodness to them and the impact he left on them is evident. And the impact the Mighty Nein left on him is as well. For both good and bad, he got a taste of the experience and there is nothing more powerful than a person with such a good-spirited nature to learn everything there is to learn about the people around them. He went on his own journey along with them, the least suspecting of the group to go on a journey of self-development, but he would agree that everyone can benefit from one. When he wavered and when he doubted, the Nein was there to return the favor and hold him steady. His faith solidified tenfold and his purpose in life fulfilled. He was odd and he was true and honest and funny. He was surprising and awe-inspiring and for every sentence he speaks that doesn't really make sense when you think a little harder on it, he gifts you with another that shakes you to your absolute core. I know that the people he'll meet will be the better for crossing paths with he and his family and he'll share his own wisdom as well as the wisdom he learned from the Mighty Nein. I do so truly and deeply hope that they all return to the Blooming Grove when their times come. I think it would be nice for them to all rest together.
And of course, the purple Tiefling who just has one of those faces. They shined briefly but they shined brightly. By all means, they were the biggest asshole, but they were the best asshole. Lying and denying because fuck the past. They weren't interested in the past, only interested in the present and what they could make of it. They were the most authentic to themself and they left that message and so many more behind for the Mighty Nein to take and make their own. They went on without their friends, but they certainly left the world a better place. They were angry and heartbroken and in pain, but it was the catalyst to realizing their love for each other. And it fueled them. And the Mighty Nein saved each other thanks to their words and they fought to the ends of the Exandria and beyond it not only to save the world but to bring their friend back. And while Mollymauk Tealeaf, the one who brought the group together because they all looked in need of a very good time, was not the exact person they got back, it was their love that let them accept the change. That one light they left shone brightly enough in the dark to inspire the group for the rest of their lives and in return, they lit thousands of lights to remember the circus man.
They found each other by fate and when they met they were broken and sad and lonely and scared. At the end of it all, what they did was for love. All the shit that they went through together and why they did it was for love. The sacrifices and the hard-fought battles was for love. The arduous journey and the risks that they took was for love. Love for their families, found and blood, love for their friends, love for their homes, love for their passions, love for themselves.
"Pain doesn't make people. It's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them." -Caduceus Clay.
I've been writing this for hours now and I'm still crying, but it felt good to write this down. I love each and every one of them so dearly and even though I don't want them to go away from each other, not a damn thing will ever change their dedication and love for each other.
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This spring the Cambridge Writer’s Workshop held their retreat in the vibrant city of New Orleans. The weather was amazing and felt like a breath of fresh air to all of the snow we had experienced in this unusually long winter. We stayed in a gorgeous two-story house across the river from the French Quarter in Algiers’s Point.
The retreat started with a night of games and fun during orientation which helped stir everyone’s creative side!
Classes for this retreat showcased: “Rasa: Emotion & Suspense in Theatre, Poetry, and (Non)Fiction” taught by Rita Banerjee; “What’s At Stake?” taught by Diana Norma; and a two-part course on both finding a literary agent and building a literary platform taught by special lecturer Natalie Kimber, a literary agent from The Rights Factory. The classes were as fun as they were informative and educational.
In our free time, we played a group game of Werewolf, sought out local food and drink, saw local sites, listened to jazz in the French Quarter, and most importantly wrote!
The 48-hour Writing Bake Off has become a staple of the CWW, and this trip produced some amazing work by our writers! As per the usual rules each writer had 48 hours to write around twenty pages of work while incorporating elements as chosen by the fellow writers. This Bake-Off needed to include:
Pastel Colored Houses
The Powdered Sugar from the Beignets
Gentrification
Trumpets
A “Big Easy” Attitude
“Widow-Maker” Trees
Here are some excerpts of what our writers came up with.
Gina Anderson “The Baby Sitter”
I kicked open the door. The creature looked like a Doris Day reject. It held the baby outstretched over the crib readying to extract its soul. “Unhand that child!” I demanded. I’m sure my command came out in a chirpy, garbled mess instead of low demonish.
The woman lowered her palm over the tiny chest of the babe, swaddled up in a blue blankie, as a threat. She opened her mouth up in an unnatural yawn and let out a low hum. The move shut the door behind me and blasted me against it.
The babe was silent. It made no moves to protect itself. This demon babe was rumored to have unimaginable powers. Did the creature stun it with some sort of ability unnatural to this realm?
Very well. If it was going to fight dirty, then the crutches and the pants were coming off. I quickly unwrapped my bandaged legs and feet, releasing my claws, but also thoroughly confusing the possessed creature. I picked up one of the crutches and detached one of the components that doubled as a stake. I only had two left and I only had two shots at getting it right.
The creature stretched the face of its possessed body in that yawn again, but this time it spewed a chemical mist. I coughed to prevent the toxic fumes from entering my lungs. Hey, I’m a birdie with delicate sensibilities. Damn it! These guys just kept upping the threats.
Adi Hernández “Untitled Bake-Off”
Julio had been off sleeping, reading, and doing just about god-knows-what those three weeks nobody could find him, and in-between it all, he would find himself staring out through the window hoping he would one day go back to what he thought he could remember life to be. Since the accident, since the weather that day long ago, since his brother’s death, he stayed in the upper room of a pastel house that had somehow managed to stay intact. He had been stuck there, paging through the same three books he hadn’t read in a while, but he was beginning to think, maybe a trip outside could spare him from having to read them all over again. They made him sick to remember again.
To remember his hometown in Managua, Nicaragua. To remember the days when he and his brother would simply drop the bags of groceries they carried home to run off to the beach at the sight of a glimmer of water. To remember the nights outside their home eating papaya and waving off the heat those summer days created. To remember his mama and papa spending nights together cooking for the rest of the family just before they would have “uninvited” guests over. To remember his brother’s laugh when he fell into the pond searching for the sea serpent that supposedly lived there. To remember them again, and to realize they were too far to offer any help like he knew they would.
“It’s what I get… I guess.” he thought to himself.
Deb Jannerson “Poems”
first sight
the only track in my discman’s 56-sleeve carrier that mentioned new orleans was about hookers.
i slipped the disc into its wide plastic mouth anyway, lit a funk ribbon between my ears as
the seventh-circle seraphim perched back from the trolley window, uninterrupted by its muffled bass.
removed from blood context, i offered myself to the necklace-strewn widowmaker branches, to the creaky car film-reeling academic excuses, to the jester-drunk women embracing on quarter corners.
agnostic phantoms marbled my barrier, warmth wet as a lover, leaned through anthony kiedis to hiss there is something here for you to find.
8/28/05
with two more weeks until the
begrudging unlock of the ivory tower, i
regressed into the house of the soot eagle
where i unset through the ticking, then
shattered offscreen.
in a vertiginous spot of mirror-image cruelty:
it really will be a canal street! the
sourdough words would not mix with
her fault-ridden lips.
my brain disappeared, impotent.
i had left its dormant shadow on
the opposite end of the interstate, and
almost expected it to survive.
Gary Zeiss “Thank You for Riding with Jesus”
I rode with Jesus the other day. Ten glorious, spirit filled miles. They were fun-filled, too. Yes, I was touched by the son of God himself, and sitting in the back seat of his 2014 Blue Passat (7EAD313), I felt as if I were being whisked away from all my cares.
Jesus asked if I believed in him. How could I say no? He was sitting there, in the flesh, right in front of me. He would move his hands and the car would turn. He would move his feet
and the car would accelerate or slow down. Of course, Jesus was right there with me, every moment of this journey.
Good thing I became a believer quickly. The 405 was in one of its usual crowding phases, and Jesus was pulling motorcycle like lane splits. Give him this — he could drive like hell. While I was in his holy presence, the day seemed to get brighter. It was if the darkness relented to the holy glory of dawn.
I definitely felt as if I was being touched by an angel — and not just any angel, but the big J. We got off the 405 at La Tijera.
Jesus laid on the horn at the driver in front of us.
No effect.
“No turn on red” I said, pointing to the sign.
“That’s for you folks, not the son of God!” he laughed, almost rear-ending the Explorer with Utah plates that was standing at the light.
I almost thought I heard him mutter a curse word or two at the careful driver in front of us. I knew just then, What Would Jesus Do in traffic? He’d be just like one of us — pissed off
at the slow driver in front of him, impatient, and ready to honk and curse at a moment’s notice. I felt very close to Jesus at that moment.
Matthew Bargas “Credo: On Truth”
“What is truth,” Pontus Pilate asked. The answer may not be as simple as most would think. In
this day and age of fake news and real news the question is just as relevant as it ever was. Our digital technology can fabricate anything, creat compelling arguments supporting or condemning anything anything, and who is to decide what is real and what is fake.
Aside from science and math, are there any universal truths, or are all truths relative? We hold these truths to be self evident? Really? What does that mean. If life liberty and pursuit of happiness are self evident why is there so much death and destruction, so much oppression, so much misery in our world. How about the divine right of kings? That ‘truth’ was believed by everyone centuries ago. Who knows what everyone will believe in the future?
And there is this excerpt from the song, Wonderful from the musical Wicked:
“We believe all sorts of things that aren’t true. We call it history. A man is called a traitor or a liberator. A rich man is a thief or a philanthropist. Is one a crusader or an invader. It’s all in which label is able to persist. There are precious few at ease with moral ambiguities. So act as though they don’t exist.”
Rachel Kurasz “Widow Maker Trees”
I ran into my house and locked the door. I was fine, I just drank too much, I told myself. The wind howled, branches were scratching at my door. I went to my bedroom and laid down on the bed hoping to get a good night’s sleep and deal with the hangover in the morning. The scratching sounds continued and sounded as if they were right at my bedroom door.
I was scared, I was drunk, and I finally decided I needed to say the prayer, fuck it, being foolish was better than ending up like that poor woman’s corpse.
“As I lay me down to sleep I pray…” Shit. “As I lay me down to sleep I pray…” Fuck.
The scratches grew louder.
“As I lay me down to sleep I pray…” I was so drunk and scared that I had completely forgotten the damn prayer. I kept repeating the first line over and over again. And then I saw it. I saw a small branch crawling through the space in the door frame. I prayed faster.
All in all, it was a wonderful trip full of fun, food, and productivity! Until next time, stay wonderful NOLA!
–Rachel Kurasz, CWW Media & Communications Intern
CWW Spring in New Orleans Writing Retreat – Recap! This spring the Cambridge Writer’s Workshop held their retreat in the vibrant city of New Orleans. The weather was amazing and felt like a breath of fresh air to all of the snow we had experienced in this unusually long winter.
#Adi Hernández#CWW Spring in New Orleans Writing Retreat#Deb Jannerson#Diana Norma Szokolyai#fiction#Gary Zeiss#Gina Anderson#literary agent#literary salon#Matthew Bargas#Natalie Kimber#New Orleans#nonfiction#poetry#Rachel Kurasz#retreat#Rita Banerjee#The Rights Factory#Writers#writing#writing prompt
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