He shoves Fjord inside and follows after, pulling the latch shut behind them. Everything about the ocean seems impossible, the waves, the animals, the plants, the salt (he had to taste it for himself, even when Yasha told him not to, and discovered it really is as salty as people say it is. "What's with the flowers?" There was a single strand of curled blue hair that dangled near her nose and she blew it away. Maybe it’s the dubious crab that makes Fjord follow him, taking off his armor and shoes. I realize that making canonically-illiterate Mollymauk a Wizard is a little bit of a stretch, BUT. FANDOM: Critical Role (Web Series)RELATIONSHIPS: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Jester Lavorre & Mollymauk Tealeaf, Fjord/Jester Lavorre, Captain Avantika/Fjord (Critical Role)RATING: TWORD COUNT: 805NOTES: Written for Day Six of @mollymauklivesfest: kindness – notes: you kind have to squint a little bit to see the kindness in this (whoops—love missing the mark on a prompt). Please consider turning it on!
“Thanks!” Fjord turns to give Molly a thumbs up and then, inevitably, frowns, “What’re you doing up there?”, As if to demonstrate, Molly does a complicated thing that involves shifting his weight and wrapping his foot in the rope- acrobat stuff, Fjord can’t really keep track- then he’s hanging upside down by the one foot and waving his arms as if to say “look- no hands!”. Nonetheless, he’s thankful that their stupidity has at least brought him closer to the ocean. There aren't too many colors, …
His hair was so long now it reached his still thin hips and was beautifully braided over his shoulder. There aren't too many colors, almost entirely black, and feathered too, goodness.
i hesitate to tag this as robb lives bc he. 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. 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. Not when he’s got the salt of Caleb’s sweat on his tongue, fresh from where it beads up on the back of his neck. he asks. Her porcelain mask obscures her features, he's heard from bard songs that she rarely removes the mask, and Molly floats immediately in front of the black hole that is her right eye.
He stumbles off the boat in a daze, finds a spot next to the island’s single tree, and sleeps through the whole day, not caring if he’ll fuck up his sleep cycle. This story focuses on Caleb, as the latest addition to the group, recently recovered from a police raid into a countryside home, owned by one Trent Ikithon. Nott is leaving. ", "I don't see how they'll revive me, we lost our cleric, if they somehow find a way to bring me back, I'll be happy. There was a pop and the diamonds disappeared, leaving a tattooed purple body on the table in their place. Tell me, Mollymauk, do you wish to be revived?". When their worlds come together and Caleb finally has to face who he used to be, will it help him choose who he wants to become? “That would be nice, if you don’t mind.”, “Not in the slightest, so long as you do me a favor and extend a willingness to what the card has to say. Beau reached out to put a hand on Yasha’s arm. She didn’t wear blue anymore, not since the falling out with the Cobalt Soul and Dairon. The waves are his favorite part, rising and falling in an irregular pattern like a song with a consistent beat but a chorus that wavers in volume and passion. He spins, shuffles, shakes- whatever he feels like, unaware of or indifferent to how it looks. One little girl sitting perfect in the tree, walking in a line. He ordinarily sets it aside for special occasions, but damn if the fellow doesn’t look like he needs it.
He still wore the same armor but there were dents and cuts on it that told the story of his adventures. Everyone started forming a circle around the table, looking down at the pile of diamonds. He was wearing a nice shirt and a leather vest. We’re on an island in the middle of the ocean, on the run from the crownsguard, and you’re as relaxed as you always are, ready to take a swim as if nothin is wrong.”, Molly laughs and waves a hand through the water, observing and experimenting with movement underwater. Molly smiles at Fjord and then looks back out at the water with a sigh, wild smile softening into something more... wistful. It’s a sentiment Molly understands all too well, and so maybe that’s why he shifts from his usual routine, throws an extra bit of showmanship into the shuffle so neither of them see the extra card he slips from his sleeve onto the top of the deck. “Or maybe that’s the kind of thing you’re into, I don’t know. “Don’t you want to know your future?”, The man—Caleb—had grunted in response, shifted even lower in the chair. Anything you start, you can finish.”, “And you’re the same.
He’s seen oceans on maps and he obviously knows what they are, in theory, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the scale. It’s then that Fjord realizes how late it is, looking up at the pitch black sky, full moon hanging over head, and stars twinkling out of the abyss. Dirt rubbed so deep into the lines of his face that Molly’s having trouble figuring the skin tone underneath, hair knotted up in tangles like it’s been done so intentionally. I didn’t think anyone knew?
Despite the fact that he can see, there are no visible light sources. "I...am not sure, actually. It's not just any wail, it's one of anguish, of loss, with a growling undercurrent of rage. Before he can take his first step, a wail tears through the air around them. She was wearing a handmade dress decorated with buttons and embroidery.