#one of these days he’s gonna crawl his ass into Mollymauk’s room and be like um. remember that thing you did. by the fire. the other night. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

agerefandom · 4 years

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Books and Pigments

(art by @sparrowinged, story written for @sparrowinged)

Fandom: Critical Role

Characters: Regressor!Caleb, regressor!Jester, featuring Mama!Nott, caregiver!Ford, and the rest of the Mighty Nein in the background (Beau, Yasha, and Molly)

Words: 3,000

Summary: Upstairs, Jester gives Caleb a bath and they both find the process nostalgic. Downstairs, the others discuss ‘somechildren,’ people who never fully grow up. They’re well-known in Wildemount, but much more accepted on the Menagerie Coast.

Content warnings: ‘Little’ is used as an adjective, but not a noun. Caleb’s backstory is briefly alluded to, as is memory loss from trauma. There is drinking (done by adults). Nott is considered a mother and is referred to as such.

Note: I’m only on episode 47, please excuse any backstory gaps!

Nott was the last to join the table, crawling onto a chair and grabbing a drink that was already on the table, downing most of it in one go.

“Nott!” Molly greeted her from the other side of the table, raising his own tankard to her. “Are the others not coming?”

“Jester has insisted on giving Caleb a bath,” Nott said once she was finished with her beer. “I left him in her capable hands.”

“Capable at many things,” Fjord pointed out. “I hope she’s feeling kind this evening, or Caleb may be in trouble.”

“He’ll be fine.” Nott crawled partly onto the table to drag a plate of meat towards herself, tucking some of it into her pockets. “He does have magic, after all.”

“So does Jester,” Beau said from across the table. Nott flapped a hand at her dismissively.

“Caleb is better.”

“Okay, but if the two of them were in a fight,” Beau started, leaning forwards.

“Jester would win,” Yasha finished.

Nott glared at them both, crossing her arms. “You don’t have enough faith in him,” she said reproachfully. “He’s a very powerful wizard!”

“Yeah, but have you seen Jester’s biceps?” Beau asked.

Nott gave up on the battle in the interest of fitting as much ham as possible into her mouth, and the conversation moved onto arm wrestling shortly after that, shifting with the usual chaos of the Mighty Nein’s evenings off.

Meanwhile, upstairs:

Jester was gentler than Caleb had expected, double-checking the temperature of the water and adding another half-bucket before gesturing for Caleb to undress. She hovered around him, snatching his clothes as he removed them and folding them to lie on the bench by the door. Once he was naked, she ushered him towards the washtub.

Sure enough, the water was perfect as Caleb sank into it, not hot enough to scald but warm enough to turn his pale skin rosy as it met the surface.

“Look at your freckles!” Jester cooed, poking Caleb’s shoulders as she bustled around him, preparing the soaps. Caleb hunched forward, self-conscious despite himself. They had all been in the public baths together, and had helped each other with their armour many times. Nevertheless, he was aware of his scars and spots, and didn’t appreciate Jester’s wandering hands.

“Relax,” Jester ordered, as if sensing Caleb’s wandering thoughts. “I am a good girl, I can keep my hands on task.” This was apparently all the warning she deemed necessary before dumping a bucket of lukewarm water over Caleb’s head, plastering his hair over his face until he spat it out of his mouth and tried to push it back.

“Leave it!” Jester’s hands batted Caleb’s away, and she guided him to lean against the edge of the washtub, combing his hair back with sudsy hands. “You’ll just get it more dirty with your stinky fingers.” Caleb was about to protest her wording when she started to dig her fingers into his scalp, and he abruptly found himself melting into the touch. He had not had someone else wash his hair for a very long time, not since far into his childhood. He closed his eyes, although he wasn’t sure if he wanted to chase the memories or push them away. Parts of his childhood had been missing when he’d returned to himself, gaps in his memory that led to disorienting echoes like Jester’s fingers in his hair. Jester’s voice brought him back from the confusion, humming a quiet tune that Caleb did not recognize.

Caleb found himself drifting through the rest of the bath, with Jester’s hands shielding his eyes from the suds she rinsed out of his hair, guiding him from position to position so that she could rub sweet-smelling lotions into his hair, his cheeks, his back. She even washed the bottoms of his feet before smearing a handful of soap into his palm and gesturing for him to finish the rest of his body. Through every motion, her humming got louder, until she was singing little pieces of foreign songs to herself as she brought over the final bucket of water.

The washing water had become quite dirty, and Jester rinsed Caleb’s body with the last fresh water as he stood up from the tub. She wrapped a soft blanket around him and tugged him out of the bath with a giggle. Caleb followed where she led, feeling pleasantly distant and oddly content.

Jester sat him on a stool and started to comb out his hair, making tiny braids as she sang those little snatches of simple but unfamiliar songs.

Jester had been singing for long enough that her speaking voice almost startled Caleb when she put down the comb. “Do you want to take a nap?” She ran her hands through his hair. “Or I could give you a haircut.”

“Nap,” Caleb said quickly. It was the preferable of the two options: Jester had been gentle enough with the comb, but he didn’t want to test their luck with a sharp blade near his ears. “Nap is good.”

“Naps are the best,” Jester corrected, pulling Caleb off the stool and towards the door without sparing a glance at his clothes. “Come on, let’s go!”

“Clothes,” Caleb managed to protest.

“Who needs clothes?”

“Me!” Caleb managed to pull his wrist free of Jester’s grasp and scoop up his abandoned clothes with one arm. His outer layers and everything important were back in his room, but he didn’t want to leave things in the bath room to get taken.

“We’ll get fresh clothes in your room, but I want to nap in my bed,” Jester said, in a tone that invited no challenges. Caleb nodded and followed her down the hallway, watching Jester’s skirts swish as she skipped past each door, her tail bobbing behind her. She stopped outside of Caleb and Nott’s room, gesturing for Caleb to go in and get changed. Caleb wandered into the room, sat down on the bed, and decided that he didn’t want to get up. The warm water of the bath and the gentle washing had made him too sleepy, and there was no way he was budging.

“Caaaaleb,” Jester whined from the doorway. “I want to go to my room!” Caleb ignored her, leaning back on the mattress and wrapping his blanket tighter around him. It was soft and perfect and he wasn’t leaving, no matter how loudly Jester protested. “Caaaaleb!!” Although her voice was rather disturbing the tranquility of the room. “Nap in my room! Get your clothes!”

With a huff, Caleb rolled sideways off the bed and managed to collect a few items of clothing, stumbling towards Jester in the doorway and accepting the hand she had stretched out towards him. She pulled him down the hallway and into the room that the girls shared, shutting the door behind them before jumping at the double bed with an impressive leap and rolling across it in a blur of petticoats and skirts.

“Sleepover, Caleb!” Jester popped back up to sitting, and patted the bed beside her enthusiastically. Caleb wandered over and she pulled him down on the mattress with a little more force than necessary. It was very comfortable, Caleb acknowledged. Maybe even more comfortable than the bed in his room. He wiggled back and forth to get himself properly wrapped up in his blanket, and then let his head rest against the covers of the bed. Jester was arranging herself beside him, wrapping one arm over his swaddled side and pulling him back against her. She was inhumanly warm, impossibly cozy, and as she started to hum a quiet song, Caleb felt his eyes drifting closed.

“Oh, that was nothing, remember the time that she decided to drop a box of manure on that priest of the Allhammer?”

“Classic!”

“Y’all think Jester is a troublemaker now, you should see her when she’s feeling little,” Fjord offered to the discussion. “No one is safe.”

“Jester’s a somechild?” Molly asked, leaning forwards. “I’m surprised I didn’t realize sooner.”

“Oh yeah. She isn’t little often.” Fjord finished his drink and wiggled it in the air for a refill. “Sweetest thing but a handful for anyone. I met her when she was little, actually.”

“Are somechildren more common where you come from?” Nott asked.

“Yeah, the Menagerie Coast is a lot better about them,” Fjord said. “Nicodranas has a whole district dedicated to them, and it’s the loudest part of the city. Empire kids come there all the time for a break, I hear.”

“Most of the Empire’s not big on them,” Beau confirmed. “Never understood why, I think they’re sweet. And it doesn’t stop Jester from being the most badass tiefling I’ve ever met—no offence, Molly.”

“Jester can have the baddest ass as long as I have the sweetest,” Mollymauk laughed. “Also, I bet I could take Jester in a fight.” Beau made a doubtful sound. “What, don’t believe me? I’ll go and get her now, settle it here.”

“Fuck yeah!” Beau sprang to her feet. “I’ll come with you and get her.”

“Two gold on Molly,” Nott muttered to Fjord.

“I’ll take that bet. He’s gonna go easy on her.”

“You clearly don’t know him well enough,” Yasha interjected. “He doesn’t go easy on anyone over the age of fifteen.”

“Either way, I think we’ll be spending our bet money repairing the bar if we don’t convince them to take it outside,” Fjord pointed out, and made to follow the two who’d already left. The others brought their drinks, but trailed obediently up the stairs to watch the outcome.

“They only need to drink every few days, and retrieve much of their hydration from the plant matter they consume.” Jester giggled at Caleb’s fancy words, focused on the drawing that she was working on. “They can eat up to seventy-five stones worth of vegetation in a single day, but do not kill the trees they feed on.”

“They eat stones?” Jester asked, reaching for a different colour.

“Nein!” Caleb laughed. “Die bäume! Leaves!”

“Ohhhh.” Jester added a rock anyways in the grass. “Keep reading!”

“Um… The trees of the area are best known for their wide leaves, and their layered appearance.” Caleb’s voice was different when he was reading, his accent lighter with the care he used in pronouncing each word. Jester looked critically at the tree she had already drawn and was about to start on another one when the door opened.

“Here they are!” Molly’s voice came from behind her.

Jester turned with a smile, putting down the stick of pigment that she had been using to draw. “Hi Molly! Caleb is teaching me about South Marquet! Have you ever seen a giraffe?”

“Can’t say that I have, sweetheart.” Molly leaned himself against the doorframe, all sparkly and pretty. Jester wanted to draw a star on his cheek, but she would have to wait until he was asleep, probably. “Have you?”

“I saw one in a cage once! It looked like this!” Jester showed Molly her drawing.

“Hmm, that’s pretty neat.” Molly came closer to look at it. “You’re a very good artist, Jester.”

“I know I am!” Jester had to lean around Molly’s legs to look at Caleb. He was curled up on the bed with a pile of blankets around him, a big book open on his lap. He’d stopped reading when Molly came in and now he looked like he was trying to hide himself in the blankets. “Caleb, what are you doing?”

Jester received no answer, only a muffled squeak from the pile of blankets. She pushed herself to her feet, ready to go extract her friend from his hiding place, but Fjord walked in the door and she froze, tucking her hands behind her back and puffing out her chest.

Fjord’s gaze travelled over the room before landing on her, and he sighed. “Jester, you know you’re supposed to come and find me when you’re little.”

“I’m not!” Jester protested. “I’m big!”

“Uh-huh. Because I know for a fact that big Jester wouldn’t be very happy to get pigment all over her nice blue dress, and tends to use paper like a big girl, and not draw on the walls of an inn that she’ll have to pay for.” Jester glanced back at her drawing, which was indeed on the wall of the room.

“That was Caleb,” she tried. “I didn’t do it.”

“Oh.” Fjord nodded understandingly. “And did he get pigments on your dress as well?”

“Yep!” Jester bobbed her head. Thank goodness, he was going for it! Maybe Caleb would get in trouble and she would get to watch.

“Alright.” Fjord got really close to her, all unfairly tall and wide and green. “Let me see your hands.” Jester hesitated, but when Fjord put his hands out, palms-up, she obediently put her hands into his. He traced the lines of colour on her palms, showing where she had held the sticks of pigment. “That’s what I thought.” He dropped Jester’s hands and she hunched her shoulders, embarrassed at being caught in the lie. It wasn’t her fault! Fjord was just really smart. That was why he was going to the Academy when they got there!

“You ready to be honest with me?” Jester nodded her head wordlessly. “That’s good. Are you little, Jester?” Jester couldn’t help pouting at the question, but she nodded anyways. “Thank you. And why are you supposed to come and get me when you’re little?”

“Cause it’s dangerous,” Jester sighed. “And I could get hurt.”

“That’s right.” Fjord put a hand on the top of her head, right between her curved horns. “We’re visiting the Empire right now, and they aren’t as friendly as in Nicodranas, so it’s important to stick close.”

“Okay.” She didn’t know why they were visiting the stupid Empire anyways when people in Nicodranas were so much more fun. Stupid Empire. Stupid Fjord.

“Where’s Caleb gone, anyways?”

Jester lifted her head to see that Molly had left the room at some point, and Caleb had effectively hidden himself in the blankets, with only the still-open book poking out from the pile.

“He’s playing hide and seek!” She shook off Fjord’s hand and bounced towards the bed. “Caaaleb, I’m coming to find you!” Caleb stayed quiet, but Jester knew where he was. She pounced on the pile and sure enough it squirmed underneath her, trying to push her off.

“Lass den Quatsch!!” she heard Caleb protesting, and she rolled off with a giggle, helping him remove the blankets. Once Caleb was revealed, he was pouting, his hair a staticky mess from the struggle.

“Found you!” Jester pulled him in for a hug and he allowed it, wrapping his arms back around her. When she finally released him, he wriggled backwards into the blanket pile again, pulling one around his shoulders. Caleb sure liked blankets a lot!

Jester glanced over her shoulder at Fjord, who was watching them curiously without saying anything.

“Do you want to play with us? You can hide next if you want!”

Caleb made a sound like a deflating balloon and flopped forwards, his blanket covering his head.

“Stop that!” Jester pulled him back up to sitting. “You’re not supposed to hide anymore, I found you.” Caleb whined, tugging against Jester’s grasp on his blanket.

“Caleb?” Nott appeared in the doorway as if summoned by the noise, and was pushing Jester away before she could even blink.

“Hey!” Jester protested, trying to get back to Caleb.

“You were hurting him!” Nott accused, standing between them. She was eye-level with Jester like this, with Jester kneeling on the bed, and she looked super mad and scary.

“I wasn’t! He was hiding!”

“Mama?” Caleb’s voice was quiet, but Nott immediately turned to him. “She’s nice.”

“Okay. I believe you.” Nott gave Jester a second look, still not looking very friendly, and then swept Caleb up in a hug, her arms and legs wrapping around his shoulders and torso. Caleb buried his nose in her shoulder, and Jester subsided onto her butt, letting them have their moment.

“Do you want me to send them away?” Nott asked, her voice quiet. Jester was still close enough to hear the question.

Caleb shook his head, and Nott detached from him, lowering her feet to the mattress and keeping one hand on Caleb’s cheek. “Okay.”

“I understand why you were asking about the Menagerie Coast now,” Fjord said from behind them. “Didn’t realize you were a caregiver.”

“Mother,” Nott corrected him, stroking clawed fingers through Caleb’s newly clean and shiny hair. “I did tell you that he was my boy.”

“Right, right.” Fjord nodded. “I’m sorry for intruding, I didn’t know he and Jester were playing together.”

“He was telling me about giraffes!” Jester said, pointing to her art again.

“He’s a very clever boy, isn’t he?” Nott sounded proud. Jester thought she was probably a really good mom. She could tell those kinds of things about people.

“He can read all kinds of books and he doesn’t even sound really funny most of the time when he’s reading!” Jester said. Caleb made a ‘hmph’ sound. “I mean, he doesn’t sound funny at all ever!” she added. “He’s really smart.”

Caleb’s hands reached for the book, pulling it onto his lap and hugging it to his chest.

“Would you read to me again?” Jester asked, scooting forwards on the bed. “I was really enjoying it.”

“Do you want some paper for your illustrations this time?” Fjord asked, already holding it out in her direction.

“Yeah!” Jester stretched her arms out and waited for Fjord to bring it over. “I can make you more pictures!”

“Mm-hm.” Caleb opened the book and spent a few seconds flicking through the pages before settling on one, looking up and waiting for everyone to settle down. Fjord closed the door and took a seat on the floor by the bed once Jester’s paper had been delivered, joining the audience for Caleb’s story. Caleb glanced nervously at him, and then up at Nott standing beside him.

“You are very good at reading,” Nott told him. “But you don’t have to.”

Caleb cleared his throat, put one finger under the line he was reading, and started again. “The trees in the region are best known for their wide leaves and layered appearance.” Jester started on her drawing, all four of them settling in for an unplanned quiet evening.

#critical role agere #agere fanfiction #fandom agere #sfw age regression #sfw agere #agere art #critical role #my writing #cr #cr agere

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conceptstage · 5 years

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Hey Molly

For Mollymauk Lives Fest Day Five: Resurrection AO3

The diamonds are heavy when they carry them in. Five years of scrimping and saving, of taking dangerous jobs because they paid so damn well, of taking low paying jobs just to make something instead of sitting around the Xorhaus moping, and it had all come to this. The table was draped with several blankets and pillows as they poured the diamonds out of the bags and into the center, spreading them out in a single layer. Jester was bouncing on the tips of her toes, biting her lip nervously. “Do you think we have enough?” she asked. Her hair had grown out in the last several years, though she had pulled all of it up into a high bun on the back of her head to keep it out of her way for this. There was a single strand of curled blue hair that dangled near her nose and she blew it away.

Her style had matured over the years, though her dress this day was still pink. It was less frilly and puffy and hung to the middle of her thighs. She’d ditched the corset and her old, green, short cloak but the Traveler still had a prominent place on the sash around her hips.

Caduceus was standing next to her with a large, kind hand on her shoulder. It had been a while since he’d come to visit them. The Grove was doing well now but Shady Creek was always a threat to the Wildmother’s expanding reach and influence in the area so he preferred not to leave Nila and her tribe alone there more than a few times a year, though he made a special trip out when they sent him a letter saying that they had finally acquired enough money. His hair was so long now it reached his still thin hips and was beautifully braided over his shoulder. He still wore the same armor but there were dents and cuts on it that told the story of his adventures. When he had left with them the very first time, the carapace had been spotless.

“I’m not the best at math, but Caleb has assured me that he has done the calculations. It will be enough.”

Fjord carried in the next bag and dumped it over onto the table, using his scarred, calloused hands to spread them out. He gave Jester a playful smile. “I’m surprised Veth hasn’t nicked any of it yet.” His real accent sounded smooth and Jester still felt a little thrill when she heard it, even after so long. His undercut had grown out to match the rest of his hair and there was only a bit more black than gray in it anymore. His usual armor had been put aside for today and he was wearing a loose gray tunic and black pants. The amulet around his neck had the Wildmother’s symbol carved into it, handmade by Caduceus for the Wildmother’s champion.

Veth kicked him in the back of the knee. Her dark brown hair was trimmed short with a shiny blue sapphire comb pushed through it. The comb had been a gift from Caleb after she’d been changed back into a halfling almost a year ago. She was wearing a handmade dress decorated with buttons and embroidery. Jester had helped her design it but she had sewn it all herself. “Dick!” she said, her three month old daughter in one arm and a small bag of diamonds in the other.

Fjord chuckled. “When Jessie’s first word is ‘Dick’ I’m gonna laugh so fucking hard.”

“So the fuck will I, what makes you so goddamn special?” Luc and Yeza were standing off to the side, leaning against each other and watching the scene with interest but not wanting to intrude on what was clearly a Mighty Nein moment. Veth handed off Jessie to Fjord so that she could climb up the step stool to dump the gems.

Fjord grinned at the baby and held her close, letting her hold onto his finger. “Hey there, little baby. Are you excited to meet-” he paused. “What will she call him? I’m Uncle Fjord, she’s Auntie Jester…”

Veth shrugged and held her arms out to take her child back. “He can pick. I get the feeling he’s not gonna like Uncle or Auntie. Those are too standard, he’ll want something more dramatic.”

They both looked up with Yasha stepped in the door of the war room, three bags of diamonds in her fists. Veth gave her a small smile and hurried over to stand beside her husband and clear the way. Fjord stepped around the table to stand beside Jester, gently pulling her close and kissing her hair. She looked up at him with a smile.

Yasha hesitated in the doorway, then stepped fully inside. “Beau has the last bag,” she said, sitting down two of the bags on the ground beside the table and dumping them out one by one. Her hair was fully black now, still braided in some places but mostly still loose around her shoulders. There was a scar, almost three years old now, across her left eye, leaving it milky white and difficult to see through.

When she had dumped out the last bag, Beau stepped into the doorway, a single bag tossed over her shoulder. “This it?” She asked, meeting everyone’s eyes one by one. She still routinely shaved her undercut but had grown out the hair on top of her head and it was braided down her back. Jester said it made her look like a storybook heroine. She didn’t wear blue anymore, not since the falling out with the Cobalt Soul and Dairon. She wore a dark green crop top and tan harem pants with jade on her wrists and neck and a gold ring in her nose.

Fjord nodded. “Caleb said there were ten bags, that’s nine empty bags over there. I think we’re ready once you pour out yours.”

She nodded and stepped towards the table, dumping out the last bag of diamonds. Veth and Yeza exchanged a silent glance and he nodded, kissing her cheek and taking their daughter. He lead Luc out of the room but the boy paused to kiss his mother’s cheek as well. She smiled, her eyes a little wet and whispered to him that she would see him at dinner.

After they left and Beau finished dumping her diamonds, Caleb stepped into the room. He paused in the doorway and took a deep breath, looking over the table and doing some math in his head. He nodded, confident that they had enough. His red-brown hair was about shoulder length and tied back at the nape of his neck. He was wearing a nice shirt and a leather vest. His pants were pressed and his shoes were shined. He only broke out this outfit on special occasions. None of them had seen it since Luc’s last birthday party. He had a silk scarf around his neck to half hide the slowly fading burn scar that crawled up his neck from under his shirt and ended just under his ear and behind the back of his jaw.

“You look very nice, Caleb,” Jester said, smiling kindly.

“You look fucking uncomfortable,” Beau said, smirking. “You sure you want him to wake up and think you still have that giant stick up your ass after all these years?”

Caleb flipped her off. He had become very free with that over the last several years. She secretly considered it a bonding moment every time. When he came up to the table she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He sighed and laid his hand over hers to comfort her back. They had both been waiting for this moment since they’d seen their friend murdered five years ago. Everyone started forming a circle around the table, looking down at the pile of diamonds. Beau reached out to put a hand on Yasha’s arm. Her expression was stoic, but they knew her well enough to see how nervous and excited she was.

“Ready?” Fjord asked.

“As we will ever be,” muttered Caleb.

Beau grinned. “Let’s get the fucking show on the road.”

Caduceus held his hands out over the table. He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath and, suddenly, the diamonds shattered. They started floating around in the air above the table like a collection of stars, glittering in the moonlight that shone in the Rosohna sky outside the window.

After a few more seconds of quiet muttering, the diamonds started to coalesce in the shape of a body. There was a pop and the diamonds disappeared, leaving a tattooed purple body on the table in their place. At first, no one breathed. No one shifted, no one spoke.

Then, red tiefling eyes blinked open and looked around at them in confusion, then recognition. He grinned tiredly with pointed teeth and the entire room let out the breath it’d been holding.

“Hey, Molly.”

#molly lives fest #critical role fic #critical role #mollymauk tealeaf #beauregard #caleb widogast #fjord #fjorester #veth brenatto #nott the brave #jester lavorre #yasha nydoorin #caduceus clay

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navpike · 5 years

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Licensed Response: Chapter 3

"I'm just going to lend a hand," Caleb calls as they run. He doesn’t want to make this a hero thing, but this seems big. He can help out a few civilians and leave when the cops or a proper Powered Response Team shows up. “Is this even legal?” Nott screeches. (It really isn't legal.)

Or, the one where the Nein are a team of superheroes (well, they're working on it, at least).

Chapter Three: friends are a fate that befell me [on ao3]

Their six months goes by without much trouble, giant monsters and crazed powered criminals only grace the world with their presence once in a while, contrary to popular opinion. So they only have to get into the thick of things three times over the course of their probationary period.

However, one of the conditions of them receiving an official permanent license is that they must prove to Deputy Mayor Feelid that not only are they effective as a PRT, they have to prove that they are functional and stable. They have to prove that they truly are a unit, that they didn’t just slap a team name on their group to try get out of facing consequences for breaking the law.

Jester insists that this means that they need to have team bonding time.

Caleb hates team bonding time.

It always means he needs to leave the apartment and go out in public, because none of them really know each other. Even though he knows who Beau, Jester and Fjord are (though they don’t know that), and at least the three of them know who he is, none of them are willing to have the others over to their homes, not just yet. They’re just not that close yet, even though their deadline is fast approaching. They need to be a cohesive group in less than two months, and they’re just not there, and they don’t really know how to remedy that.

Which is why it comes as such a shock when, almost five months into being ‘The Mighty Nein’, Sky Spear invites them over to her house.

The second she makes the offer their group chat, which was already only barely functional, blows up.

[from zappy zap, 11:12 AM]

How would you guys feel about having team bonding at my place this week?

[from silver, 11:12 AM]

hey excuse me fucking what

[from doctor fancypants, 11:13 AM]

quartermaster and i are so in! he’s distracted playing a video game but he says yes

[from flame on, 11:14 AM]

This is a very kind offer, Spear. Nott and I would be happy to attend.

[from bo staff, 11:16 AM]

hey question: do you ever talk like a normal fuckin person caleb?

[from nott, 11:16 AM]

he doesn’t.

ever.

also, we’ll definitely be there spear, thanks for the invite.

[from zappy zap, 11:20 AM]

That’s great guys.

[from zappy zap, 11:24 AM]

My wife is excited to meet you all. She’s been hearing Silver and I talk about you for a while.

[from bo staff, 11:24 AM]

EXCUSE ME WAHT

WHAT

W H A T

SPEAR i have been flirting with you for MONTHS why didnt you tell me you have a WHOLE ASS SPOUSE

[from nott, 11:25 AM]

as opposed to only half a spouse?

[from doctor fancypants, 11:25 AM]

oh my gosh youre married?!

[from fish, 11:26 AM]

This is worth losin a video game. Spear youre married?

[from silver, 11:26 AM]

HEY SPEAR WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL ME THIS WAS HAPPENING HUH?

[from nott, 11:26 AM]

oh we’ll be there for sure now. i can’t wait to meet her.

[from silver, 11:27 AM]

HELLO??????

WHEN?????

[from zappy zap, 11:31 AM]

Silver, I’m two rooms away from you, come talk to me in person. I’ll see the rest of you on Saturday!

And that’s the last there is to say about that. Caleb certainly wasn’t expecting that, but it’s a pleasant surprise. It’s nice to know that at least one of them has at least a semi-normal life.

Caleb thinks that, and then grumbles and immediately turns back to his laptop and his coding. Computer code won’t make him think about why he cares about these people’s happiness. Computer code just makes him irrationally angry. Computer code is just facts. Computer code gives him an income, so that he’s not burning through the settlement from the Ikithon Incident because that would be irresponsible.

Caleb shakes his head and sighs.

Even computer code has betrayed him now.

Shit.

~*~

Saturday afternoon finds Caleb and Veth standing on the front porch of a small town home four blocks away from ZuZu’s Cafe, Caleb holding a bag with two bottles of wine and shifting from foot to foot nervously.

It’s Veth who finally rings the doorbell, her face melting into something just a little different, a black domino mask appearing over her eyes.

A woman with dark brown hair tied up on top of her head and soft brown eyes peering at them from behind a pair of large-framed glasses opens the door with a smile.

“You must be Caleb and Nott! It’s so nice to meet you, Yasha’s told me so much about you. Come in, come in.” She steps aside and ushers them in the door, instructs them to take their shoes off there, graciously takes the wine Caleb offers. “The others are through here in the kitchen. Already broken out the wine, I think. Oh! And where are my manners! I’m Zuala, I’m Yasha’s wife.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Caleb responds, a little taken aback by her overwhelmingly warm personality. He also can’t shake the feeling that he knows her from somewhere. She looks incredibly familiar.

“Caleb! Nott! You’re here!” Jester’s ever-cheery voice sounds out as they make their way into the kitchen.

True to Zuala’s word, Jester, Beau and Fjord are in there, sans their masks, for the first time, as is another young man with shoulder length purple hair twisted into elaborate braids, more piercings than Caleb can even count, and tattoos on every visible inch of skin, a peacock tail even crawling up the side of his face.

That’s Silvertongue, Caleb realizes. That tattoo on his face is the reason his mask covers so much, to cover the identifying mark. He looks familiar too, and Caleb still can’t pinpoint why, he’s so overwhelmed with the general chaos of re-meeting all of these people again.

They’re all crowded around the kitchen island, an empty bottle of wine already in between them, Silvertongue, Jester and Beau giggling while Fjord nurses what’s probably still his first glass.

There’s a woman at the counter, pulling a tray of pastries out of the oven. Caleb assumes this must be Yasha, Sky Spear, Zuala’s wife.

His friend.

God isn’t that a weird thought. Caleb hasn’t had a friend besides Veth in years. Not since Astrid and Eodwulf. Not since Ikithon.

He has a moment of blind panic where he worries that somehow Ikithon will fuck this up for him too, that he’ll find a way to corrupt these friends too, to ruin their lives too, but then he takes a breath and remembers. Ikithon is in prison. He’s in a power dampening cell in solitary confinement where he will stay for the rest of his life.

The kitchen smells like cinnamon.

Caleb focuses on that, and takes another breath. Zuala pats him on the shoulder and crosses the kitchen to kiss her wife on the cheek.

“Oh Caleb, Nott, you’re here!” Yasha says happily, setting the tray on the stove top and discarding the oven mitt next to it. She returns the kiss from her wife and crosses to Caleb and Nott with a wide smile. “So. Zuala and I have been talking about this for some time, and we decided that if we’re meant to be teammates, and friends, that it was best we stopped hiding behind masks. Not that I’m trying to pressure you into sharing your identity, Nott, but, I thought it was time for me to. So. It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Yasha Nydoorin.”

Without her armor and without the warpaint and the black haze concealing her face, Yasha looks wildly different. She looks soft. Her hair, a pale blonde, almost white, at the tips, fading into black at the roots, is tied into even more complex braids than Silvertongue’s, and Caleb thinks she must have done his hair for him. Caleb smiles at the thought. Without the haze and paint, Yasha’s face isn’t so harsh. Instead of a severe glare, her mismatched eyes are endearing, her gaze easy and kind. It’s a really incredible difference.

Caleb sticks out his hand, and Yasha accepts the handshake.

“Hello Yasha Nydoorin. I am Caleb Widogast. It is very nice to meet you.”

Caleb withdraws his hand and glances to Veth. She’s wringing her hands as she watches the two of them, nervously shifting her weight until she seems to come to a decision. When Yasha turns to Veth, Veth takes a deep breath, pulls out her hip flask and takes a deep pull from it, and extends a hand.

When Veth’s hand extends, her form melts, the mask disappearing, and features shifting back to the face she calls hers, though Caleb’s not entirely sure if that’s truly what she looks like, in all actuality.

“I’m Veth Brenatto. Nice to meet you all,” Veth says, shaking Yasha’s hand and glancing at the others in the kitchen.

Behind Yasha, Beau, Jester, Fjord and Silvertongue have gone silent, watching Yasha introduce herself to Caleb and Veth.

“Well,” Silvertongue finally says, reclining in his seat. “I suppose if even Nott-- Veth, sorry-- can give us her real name, the rest of us can do that too. Mollymauk Tealeaf, at your service, ladies, gents, others and Sentinel.”

Beau throws a wine cork at Mollymauk’s head.

“It’s Beau. Uh, Beauregard Lionett, technically, but really, it’s just Beau,” she says.

“And I’m Jester Lavorre!” Jester says, with just as much enthusiasm as she uses for everything else.

“I’m uh. I’m Fjord. Just Fjord really,” Fjord says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “We’ve actually-- That is to say, the three of us actually had a run in with Caleb and Veth at ZuZu’s down the street, the day we all met.”

“I recall,” Caleb says. “A word of advice, Fjord. Your scar is very distinctive. It may do you well to cover it. I’ve known who the three of you are since the beginning.” He smirks as he says it, a little self satisfied.

Fjord lifts a hand to cover the scar on his forehead.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Veth reassures him, smacking Caleb’s arm. “Just you definitely should cover it up when you go out to fight things if you want to keep your identity secret, like at all.”

Zuala laughs where she’s just finished plating the pastries from the tray.

“You super types are too sensitive. People have flaws, even superpowered ones,” she teases gently, as she sets the dish of pastries in the center of the kitchen island and pours two glasses of wine.

She passes one to Yasha, and keeps one for herself and Mollymauk gasps in mock confoundment.

“Nothing for me? Zu, I’m heartbroken!”

Zuala scoffs. “I employ you and house you, you can pour your own damn wine,” she teases. Caleb finally gets what he’s been missing.

Yasha, Zuala and Mollymauk look familiar to him like this because they run ZuZu’s Cafe, he’s seen them there before.

When he voices this realization, he gets matching looks of realization from Jester, Beau and Fjord. Veth laughs at him, and Mollymauk, Yasha and Zuala join in.

“Welcome to the party Widogast,” Mollymauk says mockingly, but there’s no real heat behind his words and Caleb, very hesitantly, lets himself laugh at the teasing. “There we go! He does know how to joke!”

That makes Veth laugh too, and just like that, any remaining tension is cut.

Caleb feels at home with these people. Despite every reservation he’s had for the past few years about having friends, about letting people get close, about letting people in, Caleb finds himself truly enjoying being around The Nein.

He hesitates to say it, but these people are becoming almost like a family to him, despite the fact that he’s only known them for a few months. This is the closest he’s ever been to anyone, besides Astrid and Eodwulf, and he likes it. He likes not being alone.

It’s terrifying.

Caleb pours himself a very large glass of wine. He drinks it faster than he has ever drank anything in his life.

Okay that’s a lie, but he does knock it back impressively quickly.

It settles his shaking hands, and he pours a second glass a bit more steadily before they all move into the living room so they can all sit.

They talk a little before Fjord finally asks what’s on everyone’s mind.

“So, Yasha, you said you were from Canada, right? What brought you to the states?”

Yasha’s smile falls a little bit, and Zuala takes her hand in something like support, Caleb thinks. Maybe they shouldn’t have asked.

“Ah, that is…” Yasha trails off, squeezing Zuala’s hand in hers. “I come from a very large family, one that’s very traditional. They had a whole life planned out for me, had all but arranged a marriage for me. But I fell in love. They didn’t like it. They already took issue with my abilities and me falling in love with Zuala, it was a tipping point. So we picked up and left. Opened ZuZu’s here a few years back and got married not long after. It’s been, what, five years? Best of my life.”

Zuala smiles so softly at Yasha that it twists something deep in Caleb’s chest, and makes him feel so warm and content he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself.

That might also be the wine, but potato, tomato. It’s a good thing he and Veth took a cab here.

“What about you, Fjord?” Zuala asks after a bit, breaking the silence. “What brought you to the East Coast? If I remember right, Yasha told me that you and Jester both told her you were from California?”

“Oh yeah, we both grew up in San Francisco. We met through some Facebook page that was for our college, people looking for roommates and whatnot. Found out we’d lived a few miles away from each other almost our whole lives and had never met before through some stroke of luck, but we met up for coffee a few times, and decided that we could handle sharing an apartment, and we moved across the country together. Talk about moving fast, huh?” he jokes and Jester all but cackles at that. “But I think I’ll end up staying here. Nothing much keeping me in California, now.”

“Why not?” Yasha asks softly, her words ever so slightly wine-slurred. At that thought, Caleb pours himself another glass. He’s definitely had too much to drink already. He sips at this glass anyway.

“Well I, uh. Don’t got any family to go back to, really. Closest thing I had was a foster dad who I lived with most of my life, but he died just after I turned eighteen. That’s why I don’t really use a last name most of the time. My last name’s just the street that the church I was left at was on. I worked some odd jobs over there, worked on a boat for a while to save up for school, and I guess I could go back to any of those, but it’s nothing I’m real tied to, y’know? I like it here a hell of a lot more.”

“And I’m here now! And I really love my mama and I miss her, but I’m probably going to stay here too because I like it here, and you wouldn’t want to leave me, right, Fjord?” Jester says, with a bat of her eyelashes.

Fjord rolls his eyes, but still agrees. “Wouldn’t want to leave you for the world now. Went and got under my skin.”

Jester laughs again. “It’s really funny that we became roommates, when you think of it, especially cause you’re so old, Fjord, but I’m really glad we did, cause you’re a good friend.”

“Hey!” Fjord protests. “I’m not old! I’m twenty five! Caleb’s old!”

Caleb protests too, his words definitely touched by the alcohol. “M’not that old. M’only twenty nine.”

A lot of eyes swivel towards him all at once.

“You’re only twenty nine, Caleb?” Mollymauk asks, and Caleb nods, a sad sort of smile on his face. “What the hell happened to you to make you age like that?”

It’s teasing, and Caleb can tell it, but a combination of the honesty in the air and the too much wine Caleb’s had makes him answer, “Torture, mostly, I think. Maybe the brainwashing? The experiments probably? But definitely the torture. Yes, definitely that,” he says into his near empty wine glass.

The room is too quiet.

Veth takes the glass away from him.

With nothing in his hands to look at now, Caleb looks up, curious about the sudden silence.

“Oh. I’ve ruined the mood now, haven’t I? My apologies.”

“No, Caleb, Jesus, you… What the hell are you talking about?” Beau asks, and Caleb shrugs in response.

“Well you know, the whole,” he gestures to himself and then makes a vague wave at empty air. “The Ikithon thing.”

It occurs to Caleb now that he never really looked at how much information was released to the public. It was enough to identify him and Astrid and Eodwulf. It was enough that some people thought he should be in jail for what he’d done. But after everything, he’d avoided anything having to do with the case like the plague. He never looked at what had become a matter of public record. It was too painful to dig through all of that just to find out what was missing. People knew enough. That was all that mattered. People knew, and they knew enough.

Now though, Caleb kind of wishes he had checked to see what the public knew. Cause now he’s gonna have to talk about it.

Fuck.

~*~

“Caleb, what do you mean, the Ikithon thing?” Veth asks gently.

She’s wringing her hands like she does when she gets nervous, and Caleb hates that he’s making her nervous. Best get it over with then, right? He can get it over with quick? For sure.

“Ah, Trent Ikithon,” and just saying the name makes Caleb cringe, but he presses forward anyway, “selected me, and two others for scholarships to the Soltryce Academy when we were young. He took us from the foster home we were in and told us he was going to give us a real home at the Academy, and that he was going to make us the greatest heroes this country had ever seen. And he did. He trained us out of standard classes, gave us more extra lessons than even the worst remedial student so that we’d be in peak form all the time. But then we…” Caleb trails off and mulls it over in his head for a moment, and when he speaks again, the word is very slurred, “plateaued.”

“You hit a point where you had mastered your abilities at that time as best you could. Everyone hits that point when they’re young. Your powers probably weren’t fully developed yet,” Beau mutters.

“Sure. But he did not like that,” Caleb counters, because Ikithon really hadn’t. He’d hated it when they’d started making less and less progress with each week, even though there was no more progress that was physically possible to make. “So he started brainstorming ways to make us better, and then he started trying them and that was just… the worst.” Caleb sloppily pushes one sleeve up, without thinking, and pokes experimentally at one of the old scars there, still shiny and standing out against the rest of his skin. Nothing happens, not that he was expecting anything to.

Everyone around him gasps though, and he looks up, curious what’s surprised them all so much.

They’re all staring at him.

“Christ almighty, Caleb,” Fjord mutters.

“What did that?” Jester asks, with none of her characteristic cheer. That makes Caleb a little sad. He doesn’t like that Jester sounds sad.

“Ah, Ikithon did. It was one of his ways to try to make us better. He would put, ah, crystals? In our skin, to see if they would enhance our powers. They didn’t. But he tried for a while.” Caleb pokes at a couple more scars and then tugs his sleeve back down and sighs. “After a while he gave up with the experimenting and just became cruel, and then he got tired of that and decided to be more direct in his methods. Ikithon can control minds. Like Mollymauk, but more powerful. So he just, took us over for a while. Made us his puppets. We did some truly unforgivable things. That was when he was caught but the damage had already been done. That’s the Ikithon Thing.”

“Fuck, Cay.”

Caleb’s not sure who says that, Mollymauk maybe, but he can’t help but agree. A laugh that’s a little self-deprecating and a little hysterical bubbles out of his chest, and he is helpless to stop it for a solid few seconds.

“It’s not funny,” he says, through the tail end of the laugh.

“It’s horrifying.” There is more emotion contained in those two words from Yasha than Caleb knows how to deal with, especially with his level of drunkenness.

“So!” Mollymauk exclaims, cutting through the tension with all the grace of a speeding MAC truck. “Who else wants to share their deep rooted trauma?”

It’s a joke, just barely, and it does the job, though it lacks the usual finesse of Mollymauk’s humor.

“Well,” Beau says, with a sound that’s almost a laugh but really isn’t. “My parents only ever wanted a good son, and when they got me instead, they got so pissed about it that they shipped me off to Cobalt against my will and had a son to replace me. I think they even gave him the same name as me, cause they always wanted a son named Beauregard. Never met him though, so who knows. Doesn’t matter much. That’s nowhere near as bad as--” Yasha cuts Beau off before she can finish that sentence.

“Trauma is not a competition,” she says, quietly but firmly. She leaves no room for argument. “You wouldn’t tell me that what I’ve lived through doesn’t matter, because what Caleb’s experienced is worse. Don’t do it to yourself either.”

Beau looks properly chastised, but not upset by that. She looks almost happy, like she’s pleased someone’s finally acknowledged what she’s been through. Caleb thinks it might be the first time anyone ever has. That makes him sad, but there’s time to be sad later, Mollymauk’s talking now.

“Uh, two years ago,” Mollymauk says, and he twists his fingers together and looks as unconfident as any of them have ever seen him. “Yasha found me in the back alley behind ZuZu’s, beaten to hell and back and completely out of it. She brought me to the hospital and stuck around for a bit, to make sure someone came for me, but I had no ID, nothing on me, not even a phone. I could barely even talk. Yash brought me back here and helped me get back on my feet and even after I was starting to be a person again, she let me stay and gave me a job. Mollymauk Tealeaf is a name I came up with on the fly when I needed to get a new ID. I uh, I’ve got no idea who I am.”

“They couldn’t track your tattoos? Find out where they’d been done? Those are pretty extensive and specific,” Beau asks.

“No. I got these after. As a way to become… me, y’know? I just cropped up into existence one day in this body I didn’t recognize. Thought I might as well make it mine.” Mollymauk rubs his hands together and lets out a deep breath. “Welp, I never wanna have to talk about myself again and that’s saying something! Someone else say something.”

Veth takes a huge swig from her flask, drains it dry, and then says, in what seems to be all one breath, “I have a husband and a son who live right here in this city and I haven’t seen them in over a year because I got my powers then and I’m terrified that I’m going to lose control over my form and that my mind will go with it and I’ll hurt my family.”

All eyes snap to Veth.

“You have a son?” Jester asks, a little excited and a lot sad.

“His name is Luke, and my husband’s name is Yeza. I don’t quite remember how I got these powers, but I remember it was an accident that happened when I got jumped on the way to the subway station one night. I fought back, and hurt a few of them pretty badly, but, something happened, and I just… I woke up like this. Melting from one thing to the next. Not myself anymore. And I was too afraid to go home, and that was when I found Caleb, and I recognized him, so I knew he’d be able to keep himself safe if I lost control, so I thought it was okay to stay. I thought he could teach me some control too, so that one day, I can go back to my husband and son. I text, sometimes, and I send them things, toys for Luke, or chemistry equipment for Yeza, he’s a very gifted chemist, but it’s not the same.”

There is a beat of heavy oppressive silence, before Caleb breaks it.

“I thought all that chemistry stuff was cause you were making drugs.”

Veth blinks up at him once, twice, three times, and then bursts into peals of uncontrollable laughter, that spreads through the group faster than any of them care to admit.

Before they know it, they’re all wheezing with, cackling and giggling and nearly rolling out of their seats.

And it feels good. It feels good to know these important things about each other, to know why they each are the way they are, and it feels really good to laugh like this with each other.

If Fjord and Caleb are a little teary-eyed and Jester and Veth have tears running down their faces, no one comments. How could they?

This is the closest they’ve ever been as a group, as friends, as a fucked up little family, and Caleb finally admits to himself, with no conditions added, that he likes this.

He likes this ragtag little family they’ve begun to build, in a rather pathetic attempt to create a team.

No ‘and’s, no ‘if’s. He just likes this.

#caleb widogast #nott the brave #mollymauk tealeaf #yasha nydoorin #beau lionett #jester lavorre #fjord #cr #critical role #critrole #mine #the office #lr au

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halfgap · 6 years

Text

We’re Not Friends

It starts off barely more than a pissing match.

“I’ll keep watch,” says Beau, at the start of each leg of their journey, like she’s convinced they’re bound to be ambushed by highwaymen every time.

“I was just about to volunteer,” Molly drawls in response, without fail, the both of them spending the rest of the ride staunchly staring in opposite directions.

“Still a little tender,” Beau would say, after Fjord asks about her bashed-in face again. “I’ll survive. How’s it looking?”

“It’s a marked improvement from what you normally got going on,” says Molly. “You should consider keeping it like this. I so adore it.”

Beau flips him off.

“I can, in fact, swallow a sword,” Molly would say later, shooting Jester his showman’s wink. “So long as it’s not cursed, and is of the right size and shape.”

“Can you also pull out the one shoved up your ass, while you’re at it?” drawls Beau. “Or is that trick just, like, out of the realm of possibility?”

Molly flips her off.

Then comes the crappy inn after a crappy battle, the two bunk beds, four mattresses, and barely enough standing room for the six of them. Fjord looks like he’s already mentally tabulating which pairs would be most comfortable cuddling at this stage in their not-quite-friendships. Until—

“I’ll take the floor,” says Beau, without argument. Jester is already bouncing happily on one of the lumpy beds, and Caleb beelines to another one, shoulders hunched, almost territorial.

Molly just hums and drops his own equipment on the floor, staking claim and pointedly ignoring Beau's low noise of—surprise, maybe, or indignation.

Fjord’s gaze flits between the two of them. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Guess Nott and I will take the rest of the beds, then. Not like I'm complainin’.”

Fine.

An hour and many drinks later, Molly trudges back into the room and immediately trips over a large, warm lump.

“Ouch!” hisses the lump from beneath him. “Fuck you, get off me.”

A sharp shove, and Molly’s spilled onto the hard ground. So Beau was serious about sleeping on the floor. He’s face-to-face now with her sharp glare, but he doubts her human eyes can see anything in this light. That doesn’t stop her from glowering at him, though.

The room has barely enough space for the four beds crammed inside. With the both of them on the floor, they might as well be squeezed together on one of the tiny mattresses. Beau’s already balled herself up like a cat, head laid on a pile of clothes like a makeshift pillow. She didn’t even bother to set up a bedroll. There probably wouldn’t have been space for it anyway.

“Shit. Can you, like, move farther away?” she grouses, shoving at his shoulder this time. “I can feel you breathing on me.”

“Trust me, darling,” says Molly, “I am enjoying this level of proximity even less than you are. Your face is hardly the last thing I want to see before falling asleep.”

“Well, I was here first.”

She’s got a point, as petty as it is. He starts to drag himself up. Beau doesn’t move or say anything when he steps over her body. As he’s fumbling with the doorknob, though, a hand shoots out and grabs his ankle.

“What the shit,” he hisses, just barely pushing back a shriek of surprise.

“The fuck do you think you’re going,” says Beau.

“Back to the bar. I’m not about to crawl into bed with Caleb or Jester, thank you very much.”

“You’re not sleeping out there. You’ll get mugged. You and your shiny new sixty gold pieces.”

“Fuck off,” he says eloquently. He gives his leg a good shake, trying to escape her grasp and hopefully step on some of her fingers.

A violent tug, and Molly’s yanked back to the floor, Beau’s torso somewhat breaking his fall so he doesn’t hit his head and die. She shoves him off of her again, and he’s back at his old spot on the floor, Beau’s body and baleful glare between him and the door.

They both stay silent, frozen for a moment, waiting for the rest of the group to wake up from the commotion. Nobody stirs.

“What the shit,” he repeats, blinking at the ceiling. “You could have killed me.”

“You’re sloshed,” she accuses.

“And half-dead as it is. Looking to finish the job?”

“I wish,” she mutters.

Molly sighs, resigning himself to the situation. He’s exhausted, drunk, beat to shit, and his little patch of floor space is starting to feel awfully soft. There’s just the matter of that one annoyance lying adjacent to him, like a blister on the sole of his foot, unable to just let him be.

“Why do you care if I get mugged anyway,” he mumbles, dimly aware of how petulant he sounds.

“I don’t,” she hisses immediately. “I don’t care.”

“Sure. Fine.”

“I just...” Beau huffs and closes her eyes, like she can’t bear to even look in his direction. “Ugh. You know, this is kind of a group thing now, and I guess you’re kind of in this group and I’m kind of in this group. Which means we’re, like... co... group... people.”

“Co-group people.”

“Shut up.” Her eyes peel open to glare at him again. “I just mean, if anyone’s gonna mug you, it should be me. I deserve it.”

“You deserve the gold, or the pleasure of slitting my throat?”

“Both,” she says, grinning now. A pause. “I mean, I wouldn’t kill you, though. I’d just leave you for dead on the side of the road or something.”

“How magnanimous,” he remarks.

Beau just smirks, and her eyes close again like she might finally go back to sleep.

Mollymauk could kill her, he’s pretty sure. She may be fast, but she’s only a human, in the end. A small, young, and relatively inexperienced one, at that.

But they’re co-group people.

He supposes, after everything, that’s as fair an assessment as they could reach. They’re not friends or even teammates, at this point. They’re just the two idiots who volunteered to sleep on the floor. Why them, he thinks. Why are the two of them even sticking around, drawing the short end on sleeping arrangements, offering to keep watch on the cart every day, and risking their necks for goblins who set themselves on fire? Caleb has Nott; Jester has Fjord; and then there’s him and Beauregard, strangers buzzing around at the edges of this little unit. Like they’re both unsure whether they should be trying to wedge their way inside, or getting ready to bolt at any second.

“Maybe you’re not the only one running from something,” Beau mumbles, eyes still shut. “Or searching for it.”

Molly’s not sure how much he rambled aloud, or if Beau just guessed the direction of his thoughts. Regardless, he lets his eyes fall shut too. It actually is pretty disgusting to see the yellow-purple patches of Beau’s bruised face up close. Exhaustion overtakes him.

“I still don’t like you,” he whispers, an afterthought.

“I still don’t trust you,” she flings back.

“Your bangles are tacky.”

“Your whole head literally jingles.”

“That’s not an insult.”

“Oh, trust me, it is.”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE,” comes Fjord’s voice at last. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

The next morning, after they sort out matters with Bryce, the group heads out again, their horse at least looking much better for the wear.

As usual, eyes already on the road, Beau says, “I’ll keep watch.”

“Same,” says Molly simply, perched on the opposite end of the cart. They don’t make eye contact, or say anything more.

It’s something, for now.

#critical role #beauregard #mollymauk tealeaf #cr spoilers #critfic #all i want is a platonic friendship slow burn & these 2 are delivering #critical role spoilers #mywriting

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