Hey y'all, I’m hungrylikewolf on Twitter and hungrylikethewolfie on both Dreamwidth and Pillowfort. I’m mostly migrating over to DW at the moment, at least, so come say hey if you’re in the neighborhood!
Right, so I’m rewatching ep 45 and I’d noticed the first time I watched it that when Twiggy finishes up her story about Sir Cadogan, Fjord says “that sounds real familiar.” This time, though, I noticed a couple more details. Immediately after he says that, he:
There are so, SO MANY things I want to see in the next few episodes, but oh man, a further exploration of this particular bit of information has just shot right to the top of the list.
i love that caduceus’ immediate solution to every situation is “feed people”
recovering from being enslaved and tortured? here have an omelette!
just wound up on a pirate ship and killed a whole bunch of people? let’s go get some fruit.
random stowaway? we just really need to feed you something other than chocolate.
there is no situation that caduceus can’t make better with something nice to eat
Hey y'all, I’m hungrylikewolf on Twitter and hungrylikethewolfie on both Dreamwidth and Pillowfort. I’m mostly migrating over to DW at the moment, at least, so come say hey if you’re in the neighborhood!
don’t @ me but the reason that the mighty nein have so much more chaotic gay energy than vox machina isn’t that the party members are actually any more or less gay, it’s that the m9′s only top (yasha) leaves her disaster bottom friends to fend for themselves frequently, whereas vm consistently had vex with them
...wait a second, is Caduceus always so cool because he's using Calm Emotions like Xanax all the time
You know, there’s something that’s been bothering me about Caleb, and I’ve finally determined what it is:
As much as I enjoy his PTSD flare-ups when he uses fire to kill someone, I get some major cognitive dissonance from the fact that he’s super fine using suggestion and other mind-affecting spells to get people to behave the way he wants them to.
"It's what Molly would have wanted" becomes the M9s version of "Do it for the Vine"
*Nott setting an entire building on fire as the rest run away screaming after a botched stealth mission* I’M COVERING OUR TRACKS IT’S WHAT MOLLY WOULD HAVE WANTED
Beau, about to do a flip in the Fantasy Krispy Kreme, sobbing: THIS IS FOR MOLLY
Taliesin's face as Sam learns the struggle of tinkering is. My everything.
--Keg
Not to be overly dramatic or anything, but if anything ever happens to Nila I will burn this entire campaign setting down.
I've been thinking about this a lot over the past couple of weeks, because with all of the people they met throughout their travels...
everybody knew him as Molly.
Taako: FINALLY we meet someone with GOOD fashion sense
Molly: I died in this coat
Taako: fuck yeah dude couture
Ashly Burch, my tiny wife, upholding her tradition of making me immediately fall in love with her character 😍
Ugh, my writing slump just will not end, I’m back to looking through old partially-written fics trying to find the will to finish one of them. If you’d prefer one over the others let me know. Samples available upon request:
Hey y’all here’s some samples:
Vex had prepared herself as best she could, but her first breaths after seeing their father's house again feel thin and shallow, her chest constricting until her lungs have to struggle to pull in air. She can't quite fight down an old, familiar wave of shame and anger, and her eyes travel up, up, up to the topmost floor with its small, narrow window. The last time she saw it was when she slid from its ledge and onto the rooftop below, her brother fast behind her as they made their escape.
For a moment she's a girl again, still shaking as Vax paces back and forth in the cramped little attic that they've claimed as their own, tossing a seemingly random assortment of their possessions into one of the threadbare satchels they brought with them from Byroden.
“We can leave. We can just—go,” he'd said then, crouching down in front of her to grab hold of her shoulders, his face alight with fury and determination. “You and me, right now. I'm serious. Fuck him, fuck all his grand plans. Let's just . . . Vex. Let's just leave.”
And that's exactly what they'd done. But here they are now, back again, metaphorical hat in hand because this situation is bigger than all of them. And because, as ever, they lack any other, better, choice.
“Are we going to knock?”
Percy's inquiry is cool and unconcerned, and nothing like he'd sounded on the walk here. He's a bureaucrat, Vax had said dismissively. Excellent, Percy had responded, that single word sharp with vicious, and Vex had wanted to lean into it.
“Is that why you're here?” Percy's attention has gone sharp now, focused in a familiar, all-too-appealing way. “To distract yourself from worrying?”
Vex considers, for a moment. Considers lying; considers evading; considers brushing the whole thing off as a joke, walking away and never talking about it again. But she's here for a reason, isn't she? In for a copper piece, in for a platinum, she thinks, and pushes away from the wall.
“Partly,” she admits. “Sometimes I need a good distraction. Sometimes I just need.” She ambles a few steps closer, crossing nearly half the distance between them in the narrow room. “But it's a risky thing, finding a partner, and the balance between risk and reward tends to be uncertain with a stranger. I trust you with my life on a regular basis—I figure I can trust you enough for sex, too.”
She's close enough to touch, now, close enough to smell the sting of gunpowder that he'll carry on his skin until they find a place to have a proper bath.
“I trust you not to make more out of it than it is,” she says, blunt again, trying not to look for the approval in his eyes that tends to spark when she refuses to mince her words. “You're deliberate, and detail-focused, which seem like potentially good qualities for these particular purposes.” Her gaze flits down, taking in the length of his limbs, enjoying how much more obvious his height is when she's standing this close to him before looking back up to take in his interested if uncertain expression. “I like your hands. And I think,” she says, tilting her head in a deliberate, practiced move, “that you find me attractive, as well.”
“...ah...”
This idiot, she thinks, another wave of fondness cresting through her, and smiles.
Ugh, my writing slump just will not end, I’m back to looking through old partially-written fics trying to find the will to finish one of them. If you’d prefer one over the others let me know. Samples available upon request:
