WIP ask meme! Radch au? 👀👀👀 (Ahhh im also very curious about mogget frumpkin, if you feel like it 👀👀)

Radch AU!

This one is a M9 Imperial Radch trilogy AU (some of my favorite books, if you're into scifi) It will all be a little in the weeds because I haven't had time to really chew on bridging the world-building, but okay, so there's a concept of networking humans together, their personality and identity erased so they can be a part of warships, and are called ancillaries. they end up as much a part the ship as the hull. (this is also a thing that can be done to subjugate one person's mind to another. the people that this happens to generally consider themselves distinct from the identity that came before. not unlike our mollymauk, actually)

I have two ideas one - that volstrucker would operate in pods, networked together so that they could operate perfectly in sync. Bren failed to properly integrate, and ended up as one of Trent's ancillaries before escaping and becoming Caleb.

This is reprise of the dinner at trent's scene

Caleb cannot see through Astrid’s eyes. He reaches, almost reflexively, to look, because she is facing opposite him, can see behind him.  But there is nothing.  There is nothing because that was Bren, and Bren is gone, burned out of his synapses long, long ago.  He fists his hands under the table and tries to match Wulf’s heart rate, it’s always stable— But he can’t do that either. He feels the void of them, all down his spinal cord. There is a great, yawning space, like the expanse between the stars, where his partners should be.  No, not his partners. Bren’s partners. And Bren should be there too.  Bren should be there, but he’s not, because Trent killed him.  Caleb takes a careful, long breath through his nose. Trent, or the tendril of him, still sits in Caleb’s mind. Dead, inert, like a withered plant, but still taking up space.  His contempt for Bren still takes up so much space— What must he think of Caleb? No. Caleb does not care about Trent’s regard, only the danger he poses.  (Caleb cares a little bit about Trent’s pain. Does he too reach out, only to find nothing? Does he feel that a piece of him is fossilized in Caleb? Does the phantom of it pain him? Caleb hopes so.)

the second is that consecution operates on a similar principle, but the bodies are all clones of the original person, and are never apart from the gestalt consciousness, and without independent identity ever. The dynasty would be the Radch, a strange and feared empire with odd ways and an invasive amount of surveillance organized around a religion.

“These aren’t going to you know—” Beau taps the back of her neck with a grimace. “I am aware of the slander that exists about my people, but no. These are not implants, they will not connect you directly to any Den, nor the Luxon, nor even Station. These bracelets will let you open doors, not let anyone peer into your mind.” “But they do? The real ones?” Essek smiles, in the way a crevasse might be said to be a glacier’s smile.  “No. That magic exists, of course, but we do not spend all our days reading each other's minds, and we have better things to do even if we could. I’m given to understand you find it invasive, but there are benefits too, else we would find a different way of living. You can imagine, I’m sure, a little boy playing with his brother in the garden, falling, and breaking his arm. His mother would know, because Station would tell her if she were not already looking, that his cortisol and adrenaline had spiked, that he was in pain and panicking. Before he would be done calling for her the first time, a cleric would be on their way to heal his arm. If he or his mother were well loved by Station, an order might even be placed for a few sweets, to be sent to the garden as the cleric was finishing.” “That sounds like a personal story, Mr. Essek,” Caduceus notes.  “Ah, well, I think if you ask anyone they would be able to tell you a similar story. I only mean to demonstrate, that if you mean no harm here, then you might find it more comfortable than you’ve been led to expect on Rosohna Station.” “Did your mama come to check on you?” Jester asks, after a moment.  “Excuse me?” “After you broke your arm, did she come to check?” “I—” Essek frowns, tips his head to the side, as if listening to something. “I’m afraid my translator is losing some of the nuance of your question. I’m certain she checked to see that I was once again well, or told Station to tell her if that wasn’t the case. If I hadn’t been, something,” Essek pauses then, lips slightly parted, as if choosing words very carefully. “Something decisive would have happened.” “But it was scary, right? Even if somebody healed you. I mean, you had to have gotten like at least one extra bed time story out of it?” Essek’s frown becomes thoughtful. “The tree was pruned, after that. And I received access to the beginner’s primers on magic, a few years before formal instruction typically begins. She was very eager for me to demonstrate Feather Fall, the next time the more magically gifted parts of her were on Station.” “But no bed time stories?” “The Umavi is often busy.” Jester must already be wearing him down, because he adds, in a way that must be uncharacteristically open for such a man, “And her oldest bodies tend to totter off to trance just after dinner, and those are the only ones here permanently.” “Ohmygosh, wait, do you have lots of mamas?”  “I have just the one mother, but she is consecuted—ah, that probably does not translate well. My mother has many bodies, all her, all always having been her—”  The explanation that follows makes Caleb’s gut churn, but he does not let it show. It would be different, of course, if you were never anybody else. Here, they don’t force people out of their bodies, the worst they do is let something peek. Caleb grits his teeth. Best not let even that happen, though.

mogget frumpkin asks, what if frumpkin wasn't just a little guy, but a much more powerful fey pretending to be a little guy, who still loves his human friend, even after they've parted

It is not an Aeoran monstrosity. It is a humanoid, perhaps, but one architected sloppily from hearsay. The torso, the limbs, are all far too long, spindly and drawn. It is white, or dressed in white, with long pin straight hair spilling in haphazard tumbles over its many angled body. The face is something between his and tabaxi’s, coming to a point near the mouth but with a sharp nose that would be at home adorning one of his cousins. The ears are long, swept back. The eyes are verdant, glittering, with slitted pupils. The height of it is impossible to gauge, because it is hunched forward, crouched, with both its too long arms curled around its middle.  Curled around something pressed into its middle, Essek realizes. The low growl morphs into a shrieking hiss, the mouth opening on a maw filled with rows and rows of sharp, needle like teeth and a flat, red tongue.  Essek lifts his hand, ready to defend himself, but he can’t help but flick his eyes to what this thing is holding. It looks like— Like— Like a body. A body dressed mostly in browns and reds. “Oh,” the thing says, abruptly, sitting a little straighter.  “It’s you.” There is some reverberation in its voice, adding a kind of whine to the vowels. As it speaks, its face flattens somewhat, becoming more elvin.  It’s arms shift, moving the bundle until it’s cradling its prize like a parent might a child. Cradling Caleb. Essek almost darts forward, then and there, on the chance he could get close enough for a Teleport, and damn the risk. But whatever has Caleb makes his skin crawl with an instinctive fear. And worse, it knows him.  The thing brushes a finger with at least one too many knuckles down the curve of Caleb’s cheek. Caleb is generally pale where he isn’t wind- or cold-burnt, but this thing’s skin has less color than fine parchment. So it makes the blood matting Caleb’s hair to his temple that much more obvious. It makes a kind of yowling whine, low, plaintive.  “He’s hurt,” Essek states dully. The head snaps up, green eyes narrow from behind a curtain of fine hair. “I know that! I hate it, hate it, hate it!” It ends with another shriek, burying its face into Caleb’s chest.  “I just want to help him.” “You hurt him.” it says without looking up. A growl creeping in. “He is my little spark, my clever firecracker, so lovely, so bright, so cunning, so wounded, and you hurt him.”  “This place is dangerous—the cave-in, neither of us expected it. If it was anyone’s fault, they have long since—” “Not today,” it sneers. Light, those teeth. “Before.”  Essek can’t help the little gasp of hurt, of shock. What is this thing? What does it know? 

So Critical Role season 2 officially wrapped up last night! Not to be dramatic, but I’m filled with such a profound sense of love and loss. The finale was everything I could have hoped for and I’m very grateful for being part of the Mighty Nein and Critical Role crew’s journey over these past years.

In light of the epilogue, here’s a couple of headcanon ideas I had that keep me feeling warm and fluffy: (SPOILERS AHEAD obviously)

Jester always insist they spend the Xandrian Holidays together, they’re family after all.

The Mighty Nein Nine sometimes go adventuring still. When one of them is in need, all of them are there to help. Even Veth joins them when she gets the itch. Yeza is forever wonderfully supportive.

Kiri joins Fjord’s crew on the Nine Heroes when she’s old enough. She spends most of her time up in the crow’s nest.

Since Jester mentioned she’s a registered cleric, Yasha and Beau ask her to officiate their wedding. They have a destination wedding on Rumblecusp. Everyone attends.

Unbeknownst to Jester, stories of her crazy feats would gain her a small cult following of worshippers somewhere.

Every once in a while a fae creature pops up near Caleb to check on him or say hi. It appears as a sparrow, a monkey, a spider or even a cat... He doesn’t always notice.

Caleb and Essek spend their lifetime working to build a lasting peace between the Dynasty and the Empire. Maybe Caleb’s hard work and brilliant mind would earn him the right for consecution within the Luxon... Maybe he would be reborn and find Essek again... Maybe they would spend many lifetimes together being deeply in love... ❤ ❤ ❤

Feel free to add your own...

How I Gravitate Towards You

Rating: Teen and up

Relationship: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widowgast

The Mighty Nein return The Blooming Grove. Essek takes time to think about the events that happened and has a talk with Caleb. Things slowly escalate from there ;)

~~~~~~~~~~

The grove was beautiful. Vines intertwined and tangled with the colorful blooms dotting the landscape. You would almost forget that this was, infact, a graveyard with the amount of life around it. Essek took a second to breathe in the nature around him. A very welcome change of environment compared to Cognoza.

Sighs and cheers of relief and triumph echoed around him as the Mighty Nein bathed in their newfound victory. The sight warmed his chest. His friends. Now there were actually nine of them.

How ironic. Essek thought to himself with a smile.

The Clays burst out of the moss covered temple and started to bombard the group with hugs. Caduceus was practically beaming with joy to see his family again. Jester rambled on about their adventure as the Clays eagerly rushed them inside. They gave curious glances to the two new members, but decided not to say anything about it at the moment.

Within moments food and tea were being prepared. Fjord asked to help with the cooking but was promptly shut down by Cornelius.

"Look at you all! It looks as if you have been through hell and back! Rest. We will take care of it," he said.

The food was delicious. Reminiscent of Caduceus' cooking from that one night in the Xhorhous. He smiled fondly at the memory. Essek's eyes drifted to each member of the Mighty Nein. How did this even happen?

His thoughts spiraled into an assortment of memories. Cold and alone in his study. Ambition gnawing at him as he struggles to progress in his research. Greed and selfish desire as he traded away his country's livelihood for knowledge. Fear as a bloodied human holds up one of the beacons he stole. Rage at the thought that his so very carefully planned espionage would be ruined by a bunch of sell-swords.

When had this ragtag group worn down his walls? Was it Jester's hugs? Or her consistently chaotic messages? Was it Yasha in her soft silence, or was it Beau in her harsh way of loving? Maybe Caduceus, with his gentle reassuring gestures. Or Veth, with her tough but kind way of showing care. Maybe it was Caleb. A mind that matches so perfectly to his own it was almost unsettling. Intellect sharp and piercing, with a gaze so intense he could melt under its warmth.

Essek found his eyes laid on Caleb. The strands of copper red hair falling partially over his eyes. A small part of him resists the urge to reach across the table and push the strands away. He studied his features, as if he hadn't already memorized them. The sharp curve of his jawline, his slightly tussled beard. Eyes so blue it almost felt like looking into the daytime sky. His mouth curved into a soft smile as he talked to Beauregard next to him. Essek lingered on that sight. The stress of these past weeks washed away as he focused on Caleb's smile. Then Caleb's eyes met his. Electricity jolted through him as the spark of whatever it was between them burned. Essek quickly looked away, a slight warmth building in his cheeks. He thanked the Luxon for drow skin coloration.

After food was had, the group gushed over their old (new..?) Friend. Poor man was probably so overwhelmed by the attention. Mollymauk - as Jester had told him - didn't say much at all in response to the Mighty Nein's questions.

"Empty… empty…" he trailed off.

As happy as they all were, exhaustion took over their senses. They were due for a much needed rest. Caleb did not have enough energy left to create the tower (Essek had quite a bit of thoughts he still needed to unpack about that place), so the group decided to sleep in the grove. Yasha lay with Beau snuggled up against her. They hugged and muttered sweet nothings to each other in low whispers. Molly was not too far from Yasha, and was quickly taken by peaceful sleep. Jester lay partially on Fjord's chest, talking about some new prank she wanted to try on her newly reunited parents. Caduceus lay back against the wall and was already passed out - his snore a rather loud one. Caleb lay next to veth, who was already out cold.

There wasn't really a need to be so close - they weren't in the confinements of the dome. And yet, they choose to drift near each other. Comfortable in the proximity. Essek felt very out of place. In the nights prior he could always stay a fair distance away from the cuddle pile, for the sake of keeping watch. But now, with the group all clumped together in the mass of life that was the blooming grove, Essek didn't know quite where to go. He fidgeted in his space as he debated where to trance. He can't go too far, but he definitely can't intrude on this intimate bond they all share. Eventually, Essek sits down a few feet from Caleb. He always seemed to gravitate towards him. Perhaps it was the similarities between them that made Essek feel safer in his presence.

Essek starts to begin his trance, and it is only then that the weight of the day's events crash onto him. The horrors of Cognoza will never truly leave his mind, but it is nothing compared to the absolute terror he felt when they were in that final fight.

The watch of one of the Somnovem caught him early on. The guilt of his actions surged into him tenfold. The lives he took, the families he'd broken, all for the sake of his selfish thirst for knowledge. It was all his fault.

He didn't catch sight of the tower hurled at him until it was too late. Caleb grunted as the weight of the rock (..flesh? It was very confusing) trapped him beneath it. Essek felt a surge of fear as he pictured the worst. He quickly scrambled over to where Caleb laid and desperately tried to pull him out. To no avail, it would seem. Those of his craft were not quite suited for these feats. Essek summoned the bead of possibility he had placed in himself beforehand. With a surprising surge of strength, he got Caleb to his feet.

In a rush of adrenalin,Caleb pulled him close and touched their foreheads together. If this was a different circumstance, Essek would be soaring. A small part of him completely forgot about the raging battle around them. That part focused on the presence of the man next to him. The wood burning autumn scent now mixed with the iron-y tinge of blood. That part of him noticed how close they were. Faces mere inches apart. Essek felt his heart jump into his throat. Then Caleb pulls back, the moment ending as quick as it began.

The ferver gained from this interaction was short-lived as Jester fell. Her bloody and broken corse strewn to the side carelessly. It was then that things started to go so very wrong. Jester was back thanks to Caduceus, mere seconds after she fell, but Esseks attention immediately went elsewhere. Caleb clutched at his torso with a grunt of pain as he fell, unconsciousness taking his form. Essek didn't even know he was capable of the rage that followed. He screamed and tore the very fabric of gravity itself around Lucien.

Then the battle field changed. It was no longer the fleshy horror of a city, but now a calming forest surrounding him. He looked forward to see the Mighty Nein - happy and smiling - with a hand outstretched towards him. It was Caleb. Caleb was calling him over to join them. Excitement burbled into him as he rushed towards the sight. It was only when he reached his destination he realized he had made a grave mistake.

The image of Caleb's torn and sundered body is one that will never leave Essek's mind. The sound it made as his lifeless corpse fell to the ground. The look he gave as the light left his eyes. It haunts him. The amount of terror, rage, pain and guilt he felt in that moment was immesruable. The world faded around him. Only being able to see the bloody shell of what once burned so bright. He fell to his knees, not hearing the final cries of battle around him. Essek's hands shook with emotion as he reached out to grab one of Caleb's. Those bright blue eyes he once knew were replaced by the vacuous expanse of emptiness and cold. He didnt hear the clerics rushing over and saying their prayers. He didn't hear the rest of the group trying to stifle their tears. He only stared into those eyes. Essek didn't breathe until Caleb inhaled once more.

Thoughts swirled around his head like an ocean of violent emotion. He can't trance like this. Essek stood up - trying his best to not wake his sleeping friends - and walked outside.

The calming reverie of the grove helped clear his mind a bit from these nightmares. He wandered around the exapanse, his hand tracing the occasional gravestone as he went. Eventually he came to the edge of the perimeter. Tall crystalline tree-like growths sprouted forth infront of him. Glowing ever so faintly. It was beautiful, the garden around him. So Essek sat and let himself soak up the tranquility of the nature around him.

It wasn't until he heard the rustle of footsteps that he opened his eyes.

"Its a bit late to be wandering the grove by yourself," Caleb noted, taking a seat next to Essek.

"Just… needed to clear my mind a bit." He replied.

"Ja, I get it. That was… a lot." Caleb laughed softly, a small smile playing on his lips. Essek found himself enraptured in the sound.

Caleb looked down, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as if deep in thought. He turned to look at Essek with a burning intensity. "Thank you, Essek."

Essek was taken aback by this. "For what?"

"You didn't have to come with us. You didn't have to risk your life just because I asked. And yet, you came anyway. Thank you." Caleb spoke softly. Appreciative.

Essek's mind whirred with thoughts. He didn't know how to respond. "I…" he trailed off. "Of course I.." Of course I had to come. You asked me to. I would do anything you asked. He didn't say. Instead, settling upon, "Of course I came. I care for you all more than any Dynasty or Empire. And I owe you this much."

Caleb shifted a bit at that. His hands fidgeted for a moment as he looked away. He moved his hand to touch Essek's. The touch was minimal. Almost unoticable to anyone but himself. Essek nearly jumped at the contact. A familiar tingling setting into his stomach.

Caleb's hand slowly grabbed Essek's, calloused fingers meeting smooth ones. Essek tried to map every detail. Every little feeling of the other man's hand in his. Entirely focused on the heat covering his skin.

"What do you plan to do after this?" Caleb inquired.

That startled Essek out of his reverie. "I.. I honestly do not know." He mumbled out. He couldn't go back to the dynasty, not with his situation like this. Could he go back to the outpost? Would that be safer? He was still responsible for people up there. He hadn't noticed himself squeezing Caleb's hand. At least, until Caleb squeezed back.

"What about you?" Essek asked, trying to shift the focus. "What do you plan on doing now?"

Caleb pondered for a moment, before responding with "There is still a few issues I need to take care of. I still have to help fix my home. Remove a cancer before it can spread."

Then, silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, per say, but something hung in the air. After a few moment in this quiet, Caleb turned and placed Essek under the intensity of his gaze. Those blue eyes bore into him with such a warmth. And Essek craved it. He craved to feel those eyes wash over him. He needed to see those eyes, alive and burning with a fiery passion.

The immense gravity of what he almost lost crushes him. The man sitting next to him, tenitivly holding his hand, died. If things hadn't worked out so well, if something different happened, he wouldnt have Caleb here next to him. That thought broke him. His eyes dropped down to look at the ground. Apperently he wasnt doing a very good job at hiding his emotions at the moment, because Caleb's face fell. He frowned and scooted closer to cup Essek's cheek.

"What's wrong, Shaltz?" Caleb asks tenderly. His thumb rubbing Essek's Cheekbone.

Essek looked up at him, and put his other hand on Caleb's as if to confirm that he was really here. "You… died Caleb… you died and I couldn't do anything. What if Caduceus and Jester didn't get there so quickly? What if something went wrong? What if-"

"I'm here. I'm ok. Everything is ok." Caleb cut him off. His voice gentle and soothing.

It was only then that Essek met his gaze. Caleb smiled softly, and Essek realized how close they were. Caleb's breath ghosting over Essek's lips. Essek forgot how to breathe. He could only focus on the feeling of Caleb so close to him. So close and yet not close enough. If he could just close the few inches… It took every ounce of self control that Essek had to steady himself. His pounding heart, the swarm of butterflies in his stomach. He knew he was staring. How could he not? Small freckles speckled across Caleb's face, framed by vibrant red hair.

The hand placed on Essek's cheek moved to the back of his neck, and Essek froze. Caleb painstakingly leaned in. So slow, so excruciatingly slow. As if to give Essek time to back away. To leave. But he didn't. And their lips met. The kiss was so soft, almost featherlight, and Essek's mind went blank. He could only focus on the sensation of Caleb's lips on his, how they were chapped and warm and perfect.

Caleb pulled back, a breaths distance between them. In all of his study of time, all Essek wanted to do now was stop it on that moment. It was over far too soon. Just the smallest brush of lips. He wanted it to last longer. He wanted more.

Essek leaned back in, crashing their lips together. This time the kiss was more desperate. As if scared that the other would pull away. Essek relished in the feeling. The heat of the man so close to him spreading to every inch of his body. Their lips fit together perfectly. Moving together and pressing into eachother. Essek moved his hand to Caleb's head. His fingers combing through the strands of coppery red. It was perfect. He wanted to remember every little sensation. He wanted to chart every little movement. His heart was beating so hard in his chest. He wants this to last forever.

They separate after what feels like a lifetime to catch their breath. Caleb's mouth is still parted as he gasps for breath. Essek savors the taste of Caleb on his lips as his breathing begins to steady. Part of him wants to reach out. To take Caleb's mouth once more. But Caleb speaks before this is possible.

"That was…."

He doesn't need to complete the sentence. Essek already knew.

And they gravitated towards each-other once more.

I would LOVE to see you talk about your little guys!! How many do you have rn? Who's your fave to RP? fave combat build? who's got the most involved backstory? tell me abt your little guys!

HELLO thank you for indulging me!!

So rn I have 4 guys that I think about consistently, two that I'm playing and one that I'm about to swap out.

Rix the changeling bard/wizard who is currently working to combine bardic magic and chronurgy in a way never before done in the homebrew world he's played in. He is about to be swapped out because of party dynamic and I've been playing him for like 18 months and I love him dearly but he needs to go do some nerd shit off screen. He's a cute lil asexual bard with absolutely no game and 2 boyfriends who just wants to learn and understand and also protect his home town and country from military expansion. He's a College of Eloquence Bard so he's very good at talking and he and his party led his hometown into battle with the military and won!

Vigil is my half drow half tiefling bard/paladin. He is a war veteran who is a gearhead (his bardic magic revolves around a homebrewed subclass where he uses magical guitar pedals to affect his magic) and he's a Paladin to harm reduction and a sense of community. He's gonna be swapping in for Rix soon and I'm so excited to play him. He's 362 so he has the longest backstory and probably the most involved in that he has to fit into a homebrew world with a very complicated history. He lives with an order of warforged who he helped fight for their freedom and equal status and he has a partner who's a warforged named Lily who named himself after his favourite flower. He's nearly an addict, has a clockwork arm, and is probably my coolest looking character.

Ennui is my tiefling graviturgy wizard and he's a mean bastard twink with a tragic backstory. I guested in my friend's campaign as him and we all had a very fun time but he did piss off nearly the entire party. He's very very pretty and definitely fucks. He has the most grimdark backstory I've ever written and he's literally just a remorseless jerk because of it but it's very fun to play a rude boy and I do LOVE rping him when I get to.

Then we have Xaryl my drow cleric of the Luxon who I'm playing in an Oops! All Drow campaign (he's the guy in my avatar). He is my sweet little angel and has the saddest back story and I've written the most about him (there's a 52 page Google doc with character building questions, journal entries, poetry, thoughts, etc). He's my favourite combat build because he's VERY GOOD at being a cleric and he's also my favourite to RP because he is sweet and kind and soft even though he's had a very isolated life. He is my sweet son and he's surprisingly horny and I love him so much.

Anyways those are my bois thank you for asking about them ilu ❤️❤️

Hey! For the WIP thing, e/c college au?

ooh this one’s fun. Shadowgast college/modern with magic au with a whole lot of academic magic talk. Caleb and Essek are research assistants to Yussa and Waccoh, respectively, who are forced to work together on a research project despite their long-standing rivalry. While their bosses go on an enemies-to-colleagues (to lovers, maybe???) journey, Caleb and Essek bond over dunamancy.

I really love this au but it lacks enough plot to justify the worldbuilding, and also parts of it got piecemeal-ed into other fics so it seems kind of redundant now. I haven’t totally given up on it, but it’s definitely on the back burner. since I’m so fond of it, you get a much longer excerpt than necessary: 

“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard in my life!” Professor Waccoh announced her arrival by shoving the door open like it had wronged her in a very cruel and personal manner. Yussa stormed in behind her, his robes swishing aggressively, as if they too were possessed with a righteous fury.

“Your plan will never work!” he cried. “The experiment will be over before it begins, because all our materials will have melted.”

“They won’t if we get mithril sheets instead of steel!” Waccoh countered.

“And blow a third of our grant funds on day one? What lunacy!”

Caleb and Essek exchanged long-suffering looks. Their first day as co-lab assistants to the joint research team of Waccoh and Errenis was not looking to be a pleasant one.

“Are we still on for tutoring later tonight?” Essek whispered under the noise of their bosses’ continuing argument.

“Of course,” Caleb answered. They were both standing against the wall at the edge of the lab, awaiting instruction, writing utensils at the ready to take down notes, but neither Yussa nor Waccoh seemed to realize they were even in the room. They had eyes only for each other.

“Of course we have to enchant the materials first! It will be so much easier than waiting until everything is assembled!”

“So what am I supposed to do, just sit here twiddling my thumbs and wait an eternity for you to cast your stupid spells? No way! I’m building the engine first, then I can move on with my life while you spend another decade enchanting it.”

“If you would just listen to reason, Tuss…”

Essek leaned over to Caleb again. “Perhaps it would be more efficient if we start now?”

Caleb looked up from the cat he’d been doodling in the margins of his notebook. It looked more like a sausage with legs and a tail—he was no Jester.

“What do you mean?”

“Here.” Grabbing his bag in one hand, Essek put the other on Caleb’s elbow and guided him to the next table over. Neither professor commented.

Sitting down, Essek pulled a cinderblock of a textbook out of his bag. The front cover showed a galaxy of stars overlaid with geometric designs and bold, block letters reading: Fundamentals of Dunamancy. And under that, in slightly smaller letters: Leylas Kryn, PhD. It was littered with sticky notes poking out the side of nearly every page.

Essek flipped open to one marking about a fourth of the way through the book, labeled CALEB.

“So,” Essek began, and Caleb scrambled to turn his notebook to a fresh page. “We left off last time talking about dunamis, correct?”

“Yes,” Caleb confirmed. “And the beacons.”

“Right. So you understand the origins of dunamancy.”

“I am a little unclear,” Caleb admitted. Curious, he glanced over to the other side of the lab. Yussa and Waccoh had migrated to the chalkboard, where they appeared to be laying out their respective arguments in bullet-point form. They did not seem to be in need of any assistance. He turned back to Essek.

“The beacons are fonts of magic, but they are also religious relics, correct?”

Essek nodded.

“But dunamancy is an arcane subject,” Caleb continued. “It does not come from worship of this Luxon figure, the way clerical magic is derived from deities. It is a realm of academic study.” Essek nodded again. “So, where does the religious connection come in?”

“Well, you have stumbled upon a matter of great controversy,” Essek answered. “Personally, I believe religion has nothing to do with it. If you ask me, the beacons’ connection to the Luxon is a historical note, a misguided invention from a time with a more primitive understanding of magic. If we were wise, we would disregard any writings that talk of its divine origins and approach the subject from a fresh perspective. But,” Essek mouth twisted into a bitter smile, “if you ask Professor Kryn, you will get a very different answer.”

“I see,” said Caleb, mind whirring as it mulled over the new information.

“But that debate is not essential to our lessons. You don’t need to understand the depths of the beacons in order to practice basic dunamancy. Although, I appreciate your curiosity.” His smile softened as he surveyed Caleb. “You have an uncanny talent for getting directly to the heart of the matter.”

Don’t ask so many questions, Bren.

Caleb blinked hard against the voice echoing at the back of his mind.

“Have these beacons been studied very closely?”

Essek tilted his head to the side, considering. “A bit? It’s difficult, with them being such cherished cultural artifacts. Most of the examination that has been done was conducted by archeologists and historians. A handful of arcanists in recent years, including Leylas, have been permitted to study them, but it’s an extremely thorough vetting process.” He paused, jaw working as though he was unsure about whether to allow the next words past his lips.

“The vetting is mostly done by high level clerics within the worship. I imagine Leylas’ long history of devout practice made them more inclined to allow her access.”

Caleb noted the tinge of sadness—and was that resentment?—in his voice. But Essek was speaking again before he could comment.

“I can send you some articles on the topic, if you wish to investigate further,” he said. “In the meantime, we move forward.”

Though it remained open in front of them, Essek hardly consulted the textbook once as their lesson continued. It was difficult not to pay attention when he talked; the smooth timber of his voice paired with the undeniable enthusiasm he had for the subject kept Caleb enraptured, Even the most basic elements, clearly known by rote, Essek explained with a spark of passion in his eye, which grew brighter with every question or clarification Caleb parried back.

He was an excellent teacher.

They had almost entirely forgotten about the job they were meant to be doing, and their bickering superiors, until over an hour later. While Essek was guiding Caleb through a diagram of common somatic movements for dunamantic spells, Yussa called out,

“Caleb! I need you to go to my office and retrieve my copy of Otiluke’s Guide to Enchantment, Volume IV. I have a point to prove!”

ask game

Let's talk Jester.

Let's talk about how she copes with high pressure situations. Let's talk about how she vents.

Let's talk about the last time she desecrated a temple. 

Then. After Molly, after a week in captivity, after the Traveler refused to speak with her, Jester decided that her best course of action was to desecrate a temple by painting the god's statue with the colors of the god’s enemy. We the audience had no connection to the Temple of Bahamut but this "prank" was seen as religious terrorism by Bahamut's believers. We forgave her because we love her and it's just paint, right? She's had a rough few days. 

Now. After saving Yasha, after dealing with high pressure politics which don’t even affect her, after Beau's family situation, after Isharnai, 24 hours after learning her God wasn't a God at all, Jester pranks and desecrates the Stone Menagerie, temple of the Wildmother. Some of us forgive her, some of us don't. It's just rearranging the furniture or pouring water on people, right? She has had a rough few days. 

Let's talk about how Jester lashes out at other beliefs and believers when she is stressed to the breaking point. Let's remember that she disses the Wildmother and Her believers to her God in one fell swoop. Let's talk about how she nodded along with Essek's assessment of the Luxon and the religion surrounding it. 

Let's talk about how in spite of all of that, Jester doesn't see herself as a model or ideal cleric. Let's talk about how much she looks to Caduceus, even though she tells the Traveler she has a low opinion of his relationship with the Wildmother, as the model cleric and ideal to strive for. It's thinking about what Caduceus would do that leads her to heal Beau in the remorhaz fight. She builds her first permanent shrine to the Traveler while Caduceus builds the shrines for the other gods. Let's talk about how relieved she is that there is someone else on the team who can heal the others, one who is arguably far better suited to it than she ever felt she was. She's an agent of chaos, being the responsible one has always fit her ill. 

Let's talk about how, for all her sneering about the Wildmother to the Traveler, it's to Caduceus and his relationship with the Wildmother that she turns when constructing her own religion and rituals. Let's talk about her seal, how the first thing she does for this fledgling religion is create an official Traveler seal, its design her own but at the same time echoing the seal that Caduceus gave Fjord. Let's talk about how she creates this seal using her limited paint supply. Let's talk about how those paints are the nearest things to sacred ritual objects she has, instruments of chaos and world altering change.

Let's talk about how she bestows this new seal first on Nott then Beau in an eerie parallel of Caduceus handing the Wildmother's seal, specially created with sacred tools at a sacred site and specifically forged, to Fjord. Let’s talk about how she has one-upped the traditional cleric. He converted one of their friends, she has now converted two (and so what if Beau’s uncomfortable with it).

Let's talk about the fact that Jester craves the legitimacy she thinks Caduceus has. Let's talk about how her friends mostly have denied her said legitimacy. Let’s talk about how no one badmouths or side eyes Caduceus and his beliefs, despite Jester and Caduceus’ near identical upbringings isolated from the world at large with only their religious figures to turn to for company and support.

Let's talk about how much Jester wants to be accepted in and a part of the larger world. Let's talk about the fact that so long as the Traveler is just her special friend, the world will never accept all of who she is. Let's talk about a little girl who so badly wants to be special, one of a kind, the only follower that matters to the Traveler. Let's talk about the woman that she grows into who only wants to be accepted and loved by others.

Let's talk about how Jester's model for a religion is Caduceus, whose family is one of the oldest and most beloved of their Goddess. Caduceus, who is raised above even the Clays, Dusts, and Stones in the Wildmother’s esteem. 

Let's talk about how it's not a cult, you guys.

55 & 56!

some oc asks ~~

HOO BOY some deep ones, alrightyyy

55. What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? When happens when these all interact with each other?

Joseph The main core trait might be his dedication, which can slide over into stubbornness pretty often. And the best and worst kind of tie into that, because he is ridiculously loyal, but has a tendency to fall in with the first person/group that sort of fits his views and then won’t hear anything different. Joseph’s a good guy who will legitimately die for his friends (once he makes them). He’s also very easily manipulated and is too proud to ever see it.

Krag Krag is the protector. Like, that was the main goal on building him in terms of mechanics. He’s the one who takes hits and steps in front of attacks so others don’t get hurt. For like, 98% of situations (just because I can think of two specific ones rn that break that pattern) he does not back down and does not give up. Which, incidentally, can be a bad thing sometimes because he’s got a martyr complex the size of Tal’Dorei and will fight tooth and nail to make sure people are prioritizing themselves over him. Traveling with him is like constantly having a bodyguard (especially if you’re a wizard) who will take an attack for you without hesitation and then proceed to turn down any healing because he’s fine, this is what he’s for.

Yen I’m not even sure I’ve figured out his core trait yet, this boy’s still young and new enough? But best I might say just....he’s friend shaped and curious. He loves meeting people and asking questions and he will absolutely be friends with anyone who spares him more than three seconds. But he is also ridiculously naive, and will immediately trust those people without a second thought (especially if they tell him he can trust them, I mean come on guys, he said so). Sometimes you end up making a deal friends with some random...person in a tree and you might have to steal from the Cobalt Soul for him but also he might help with some stuff too ???

56. What’s your overall goal with this character? Will they get a happy ending or will they succumb to their faults?

I feel like I’m biased with this because of course I want my boys to get a happy ending, but also like. So much of it is up to the plot and the other characters and the dice? And with the ever-changing storylines of dnd these are more personal goals than concrete plot things, but y’know

Joseph needs to learn to think for himself, not rely on taking orders. Also something he’s already learning a bit but that will be emphasized when he starts taking cleric levels, learn to take a step back -- like mechanically be a support caster, narratively just...he doesn’t always have to be on the front lines. Sometimes the best thing he can do is help someone else, even if it’s far less dramatic.

Krag oh boy, I’m definitely hoping Krag can actually forgive himself for Illy’s death eventually. Learn some self-care. Let people take of him like he’s been trying to so stubbornly take care of everyone he meets. Even the tank needs healing sometimes, and his friends are capable of taking some hits themselves. I also would love for him to learn more about the Luxon eventually and like,,, maybe get to go home without worrying about getting arrested?

Yen is still learning everything. But dear lord boy, take things with a grain of salt. Like. Embrace the friendliness and the optimism but also keep an eye out for warning signs. Take a breath and actually listen. Take another breath and don’t spill your entire life story to some dude in a tree. And more concretely, I am very Interested to actually learn what his dreams mean and what his past lives were and how that’s gonna mesh with this bubbly little spaz of a teenage fighter.

Oooooh, I love th Luxon lore.