#(this is him during the first trip to Nicodranas and him deciding he wants to be a pirate btw)

[captainsparklefingers]

When you haven't written anything in like 2 or 3 weeks, a sudden burst of creativity that ends with you writing 573 words and ending the scene you'd been working on in your crappy lil story feels like a victory.

...of course the burst doesn't last but hey, any progress is good progress, right? And maybe that'll make working on this easier, too. Today isn't over yet, maybe the juice will come back, and even if it doesn't, I'll take a win, no matter how small.

[elizabethemerald]

Fall Anniversary at the Soltryce Academy

Caleb walked into his classroom at the Soltryce Academy with the immediate instinct that something was wrong. He had been teaching Transmutation theory and application in this same class room for the past twenty years, so anything that seemed different set off alarms in his head. 

He mentally checked the wards on the class room and found them intact. There were a few students in their seats, a few more filtering into the lecture hall, by the second. None of them seemed alarmed. Whatever was different today did not appear to be an immediate threat. 

Still just to be safe he subtly cast Detect Magic as he set his bag down and took off his coat. Immediately a few points were highlighted in his mind. Of course his own magical items, the amber around his neck and the amulet beside it, the ring on his finger, the chalk he had enchanted to help him lecture. Nothing off there. 

There were a few points of magic around the rest of the room, each quickly analyzed and dismissed. Transmutation magic on a small pile of coins near the wall, a low level student’s practice project. Abjuration magic in the wards along the walls. Divination magic in a button, another spying device Astrid had tried to sneak into his class room to keep him from teaching against the school’s policies. 

It was the illusion spells that caught his attention. A few of the students were covered in the same, linked illusion. Their appearance normal enough to blend in, but also entirely too normal for a real student. And there, a student he didn’t recognize even with his keen mind, covered in an illusion spell. Several other magical objects of varying power, hidden under the spell. The Vestige appeared to be within its pocket dimension, so at least they hadn’t brought a weapon onto campus. 

After setting down his things and greeting his class he squeezed past a few of the students to grab Astrid’s enchanted button. He quickly dispelled it and slipped it into an envelope to return to her later. As he returned to the front he gave the cat sitting on his desk a brief scratch. 

“Hello Jester.” He said. Of course he didn’t need Detect Magic telling him of the cat’s aura of Transmutation to know his friend. She was bright blue after all and staring at him far more smugly than even a magic fey cat would. 

“Now class, I know we were discussing transmutation principles as applied to effecting the elements around you, but I am afraid that lesson will have to be postponed. It would seem that it is the anniversary of the Mighty Nein getting together and they have decided to invite themselves to my class.”

There was a muttering around the class room as the students looked at each other, before one of them near the front stood up, the illusion dropping off her form as she did so. 

“I told you he wouldn’t fall for it!” Veth said in her high voice, She looked mostly unchanged from when they first brought her back to her proper body. A few more laugh lines, but nothing more to show the passing two decades. “Lebby, is an amazing wizard, he wouldn’t fall for something simple like that. You students better appreciate the skill of your teacher.”

Caleb smiled fondly as Veth walked up to the front to give him a hug. Interspersed through the seats a few more illusion spells dropped. A half elven man walked up from the front row and kissed him on the cheek. Essek’s own illusion lasting even as he dismissed the Seeming on Kingsley and Yasha. 

“How did they rope you into this?” Caleb whispered to Essek. 

“Oh you know I can’t resist a practical joke.” Essek maintained his deadpan delivery for only a few seconds before a small smile graced his lips. Caleb knew quite well that Essek looked as ageless as ever, under his illusion. His elven blood would keep him looking much the same for the next few centuries. Caleb returned the kiss, to the muttering of his students. They weren’t ever a 100% sure who Caleb’s rotating cast of elven boyfriends were, and Caleb was more than happy to keep them in the dark. 

“Well you can’t fault us for trying!” Kingsley said. They were wearing a scandalously low cut shirt, a pair of plain black pants, and a pair of thigh high boots. His purple hair was fading to a less vibrant shade just a bit near his ears and he had a larger collection of scars, as one would expect from years of piracy and being a bloodhunter. They were also wearing their sword much to Caleb’s disapproval, which was apparently not magical. 

“You can’t expect me to hide this glorious look without magic though can you?” He said, sliding his hands down to his hips then back up his torso. Then he grabbed Caleb’s chin and kissed him full on the mouth, with tongue for several seconds, while his students lost their collective minds. Caleb smiled against Kingsley’s lips right before the tiefling stepped back. He was sure the rumor mill of the school would go wild about that for a few weeks. He wished he could see the look on Master Beck’s face when the news came across her desk. “Here’s to another twenty years, magic man.”

Yasha and Caduceus walked up next, each giving Caleb a tight hug. These two showed their age the least of the non elven members of the Nine. Cad could have been just stepping out of the temple doors in the Blooming Grove, saying that he had only three cups, if it weren’t for the increased presence of lichens and mosses of all kinds on his clothes and armor. Caleb was fairly certain there was an actual bird’s nest in his pink hair. Yasha of course looked as badass and muscular as she had when they first found her. Her hair was completely white, done up in an ornate braid. Home life seemed to suit her well, she looked genuinely happy and relaxed like she certainly hadn’t when they had first gotten together. 

Fjord’s spell dropped as well. The half orc’s hair had large stripes of gray in it, he had crows feet at the corners of his eyes, and his salt and pepper beard had significantly more salt to it now. He still looked good, life at sea, despite its hardships, keeping him fit. He laughed at something over Caleb’s shoulder as he approached and he found himself lifted bodily into the air by a pair of muscular blue arms. 

Jester having dropped her polymorph spun him around briefly in the hug before setting him back on his feet. She would never fail to look divine. Her horns now curling in on themselves, almost like her mother’s had when they first met her. Her hair is pulled back into a pony tail, poofing out behind her head from the salt air. Her sailing days were certainly not hurting her in anyway. Her smile was still just as wide, her eyes just as sharp, and her arms just as strong, if not more so. 

“Happy anniversary Caleb! Twenty years ago you were a stinky wizard. Now you are here teaching!” Jester’s happiness in her voice carried to every corner of the lecture hall. 

“What happened to our plan of drinks in Nicodranas this evening?”

“I just couldn’t wait Cay-leb.” She pouted. “Fjord and I got into port early, and I was so bored.”

Caleb smiled at her, then looked around at the rest of the Nein, pretending to count. 

“We appear to be one short. Where is my sister? Couldn’t drag her away from the Cobalt training pit? Or did she get lost in a book like some kind of nerd?” Caleb said with a smirk.

“Mother fucker!” 

He looked up towards the voice above him, just in time to watch Beauregard drop from the ceiling, to land on his desk with a perfect three point landing. She hopped off the desk and punched his arm, before also grabbing him in a tight hug. 

“I am not a nerd, Widogast!” She snapped, a wide grin on her face. 

“Beauregard, please do not land on my desk. It was a gift and I don’t think it could bare too many impacts like that.” He stopped to look up at the vaulted ceilings of the class room. “Also, how did you get up there?”

If she had been invisible she would have tripped the wards on the class room. And if she had gone in the brief break between classes one of the early students would have noticed her and caused a stir. 

Beau took her turn to smirk. 

��I have been waiting up there for four hours so we could surprise you. It’s surprisingly comfortable. I could have gone another couple of hours without breaking a sweat.” She paused to flex, causing several students, and Yasha to blush at her muscles. 

Beauregard’s monk training meant that she looked like she hadn’t aged a day since Aeor. And she could still easily out fight everyone else in the room if she wanted to. She was also the one member of the Nein that Caleb saw the most frequently. Their work to root out corruption among the Cerberus Assembly, and other bodies of power in the Empire often kept them up together late into the night, until Yasha would intervene and throw her wife over her shoulder to carry her to bed. 

“Can I finish the lesson, or should we depart immediately?” Caleb asked, already guessing the answer. 

“Cayyyllleeeb.” Jester groaned, pulling at her face. “I’m sooooo bored. I want to drink and party already!”

Caleb turned back to his class of students. He was sure most of them had heard rumors about Professor Widogast and the wild adventures he got up to with the Mighty Nein back when they first got together. He wasn’t sure how much they actually believed, but he was sure that even the most widely blown out of proportion tale didn’t even begin to cover the truth of what they had done together. 

“In honor of the anniversary of this group of arschlochs finding each other, consider this to be a free day. Keep up on your readings, and if you have any questions I will be at my regular office hours tomorrow morning.” 

The students immediately started buzzing as they stood and packed. No doubt during tomorrow’s class he would have to field a whole host of questions about the Nein, and that was just the way he liked it. The day after the anniversary was the one day he would talk about what his family had done. As the class filtered out, with many a lingering glance thrown at the colorful group at the front, Caleb turned to Essek, setting the envelope with Astrid’s button in it on the table top to deal with later. 

“Would you like to teleport us to the beach, or shall I?”

Essek put up both hands. 

“I already used my spell slots getting us all back together again. You can bring us to the coast.” Essek said, his smile a mix between smug and fond. 

Caleb rolled his eyes before pulling him into a soft kiss. Then he turned to address the rest of the Nein. The family he had made for himself. 

“Are we ready?” After a series of nods, he pulled an ancient clay turtle from his pocket and gave it a squeeze. “Then let’s go!”

And they were off, to a night of drinks and celebration and stories told, and memories shared. And of course many toasts, “To another twenty years.”

[intergalacticwanderer]

The concept from this post of Molly haunting the M9 but disappearing when the Tomb Takers resurrect Lucien is something that I just. Keep thinking about.

First realizing something is up when Molly accidentally possesses Beau during the assault on the Sour Nest. Everyone being very confused after the fight as to why Beau is so agitated and shouting at nothing. Finally put two and two together that Molly is THERE but can only be seen or heard after possessing someone and there’s a bunch of sudden body hopping and even more shouting. Caduceus being very apprehensive and warning everyone else about the potential dangers but settles for being watchful when they insist it’s okay.

Molly hovering anxiously around Yasha while waiting for her to wake up, but not being able to explain the situation to her before visiting the grave and her still leaving the group in grief. Heavy conversations at the grave about what things are like for Molly now and that honestly, he really doesn’t like being a ghost, but not seeing a way out of it besides being destroyed because he doesn’t even know WHY he’s a ghost. Making an informal goal to fix things for Molly somehow, and Caduceus calmly and comfortingly offering to help him find a way to move on if he’d prefer to do that instead. A coat is still left behind as a promise.

Yasha meeting them again after they travel to the coast and the emotional moment where they’re finally able to explain what’s going on. The whirlwind of the next few weeks and months as they all travel together, Molly spending short stints riding along with someone else so he can at least FEEL something for a little while. Acting as a scout and look out for danger for the rest of the group, but everyone else being careful to not say too much about him around others.

(Standing on the deck of their ship, looking at the night sky splashed with stars and waves crashing around them and Molly longing, aching for the chance to feel the sea breeze in person. Wanting to chase the horizon and new experiences, bound to nothing and no one except for what he chooses.)

Being forced to watch, helpless, as Yasha is taken by Obann. A turning point as Molly insists on staying behind with Yasha, staying with her even as she’s controlled, he knows what being possessed looks like, that’s NOT her. It’s dangerous, yes, but less dangerous to him, he can stay with her, do his best to keep watch, she’s worth the risk. Truly splitting up for the first time since he started haunting them, barely seeing each other, connecting for a few frantic moments during a tense chase through the woods at night before Molly is gone again, following Yasha and Obann as they teleport away. Not realizing as they enter the Folding Halls of Halas that that was the last time they’d see him.

A hard fought but victorious battle at the Chantry of the Dawn. Yasha returned to them, only to be followed by that horrible moment of, wait, I thought he was with YOU, what do you mean he’s not with you? But Molly is no where to be found. By anyone. The realization that he might truly be gone for good, and no one was even there to see it happen.

Delayed grief hits home and it hits HARD. They lean on each other, be there for each other, and try to keep themselves occupied with the next tasks in front of them. A dinner with a possible new friend. Tricking a hag. Visiting the Menagerie. A betrayal, returning Nott to Veth, a party, a tough conversation with hope for the future, ending a war. Finally making their way to Traveler Con and Rumblecusp, memories slipping away under a strange influence (there was a coat), stopping that strange influence once and for all and receiving a vision more important that any of them could realize.

Going home and looking for information while deciding what to do next. Eventually coming to the decision to visit a grave for answers. Wondering if this might finally be the chance to give their friend what he’d been looking for, a chance to live, to feel again, but also guilt that they couldn’t do it sooner, worry that it might already be too late. They start digging for the body.

A body that’s not there.

A body that’s not there because he’s already alive again.

There’s elation and shock but also confusion and wariness. Why was the coat left behind? Why had no effort been made to contact them, to contact Yasha? What is going on?

Finding out what's going on several days later with the abrupt murder of Vess DeRogna and everything being thrown into chaos. Giving chase to figure out the answers to all the new questions, and upon finally catching up to this mystery, the person with the face of their friend? No memories, no recognition. Not Mollymauk. Lucien.

Being told that Mollymauk had just been a fragment of a larger whole, an insignificant speck that didn't matter (but he mattered to them) and has been reabsorbed. Putting two and two together with the timing of Lucien's resurrection and Molly's disappearance. Grappling with the implications of what this might mean, what does this mean for their friend? Not knowing the answer but pushing forward anyway, knowing that Lucien has to be stopped, and hoping somehow, someway, they might get their friend back, but not seeing how.

Traveling together is unexpected and even more confusing. Seeing echoes, reflections of their friend in Lucien, seeing the roots of where he came from but simultaneously seeing the ways he is NOT him (let her have her?!) and not knowing what to do with it. Having the choice made for them in the night, chasing after and fleeing away for their lives. Finding safe haven with a guiding star.

Taking only a moment to breathe before rushing ahead. Nearly tripping and falling when Caleb’s past comes calling but (barely) managing to get up again, returning and making their way into Aeor with Essek at their side. Felling three of the Tomb Takers and then the chase is on, racing against the clock and Lucien before catching up with him and Cree at a gate. Noticing something strange in how Lucien reacts to certain words, keeping it in mind as they jump after him into the astral sea.

Dealing with the figurative and literal nightmare that is Cognouza, stopping Cree, plane shifting a threshold crest, saving Yussa. Witnessing a coup by Lucien, who, for some reason, still tells them to run. Leaves them alive (why did I leave you alive?). A battle for the fate of the world.

Fighting back, talking back, and something inside him listens. Hears them as they reach out. Hammer, hammer, hammering away with both weapons and words in the hardest fight of their lives. Some even losing their lives, until, finally, they triumph, Cognouza Incarnate slain. Two lost lives restored... and one more left to try. To give another chance.

It fails.

They mourn, heartbroken. Figuring that if nothing else, he's no longer trapped. Wishing that they could have done more. Hoping that he will be able to rest. Caduceus sending up a prayer.

It succeeds.

Elation, shock, reunions, tears. Single words that speak volumes. Showering with love, they did it, they kept their promise, they did it! Returning to the Blooming Grove hand in hand, all nine of them at last.

Checking in with their restored friend that night and the next day. Coming back to himself and yet not. Memories are gone but he's not blank either, knowing he's with friends but not knowing how he knows. A mind that can't remember but a heart that does, feelings instead of names. A new name and a new start.

Danger follows them, briefly, but it is smacked down, dealt with. Humbled and brought low and given the amount of respect it deserves, which is to say, none. They exhale, exhausted but accomplished. Taking time for much needed rest.

Noticing things about him during the rest. Hugs that linger, clinging a little too tight. Hours spent lying in the grass, hands running through the blades over and over while watching the clouds. Visits to flower after flower, touching petals and breathing deep. Almost crying over a new food, a new taste before eating himself sick. Leaning in at any music, any song, attention lost towards anything else. Closing his eyes and listening to the sounds of nature in the evening, just being. Existing. Living.

Later traveling to Nicodranas. Him watching the ocean, transfixed. Walking to the shore, closing his eyes and breathing in as the sea breeze blows through his hair. Starting to cry without even knowing why. (His mind can't recall the memory, not yet, but his heart does, aching at the clarity. An ache that can hopefully be soothed, now that that longing has been fulfilled.)

Not even questioning it when he joins the crew of the Nein Heroez. Parting ways, but also knowing that they will ALL be seeing each other again soon (too much love amongst them for anything else), starting the next journey. Getting a second chance.

Living life. Being happy. And knowing that he will never have to be alone again.

[sockablock]

From Where We Came (Ch. 1)

I couldn’t stop thinking about backstories and now I think I’m going to do a whole thing for the whole party, so here’s Jester first cause she has the most revealed ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  thanks for reading!

Word Count: 1,606

From Where We Came (Ch. 1)

Jester sits in her room, alone.

 Out the western bay window, she can see ships and boats bobbing on the gleaming waves of what Mother calls the Lucidian Ocean. Mother knows the names of everything, even of things that Jester has never seen before. Sometimes, when Mother has a chance, she lets Jester climb into her lap and together, they test out the names of all they can see in Jester’s view of  Nicodranas, from the big domed temple of the Storm Lord, to the little pastry shop right along the coast. Jester has tried the pastries from there many times; when she is good Mother will bring her doughnuts and cakes, along with gifts from “the beach.” There are many things to find on the beach, according to Mother, especially during her long walks with the people that like to come and take her away from the house. Jester’s bureau sports a growing assortment of these presents, sometimes giant clam shells or spiraling conches or obsidian mussels or bone-white starfish. Jester loves collecting the things Mother brings, and hopes one day, she can walk along the sand and find them herself.

 Until that happens, though, Jester will settle for giggling from up, up in her room, out the window at beautiful carriages and the tiny shapes of sailors and merchants and make up stories about them through the glass. She wonders if all people are so tiny like these, and if she and her Mother are the only big people there are. She will have to ask Mother this, when she comes to visit again.

 But sometimes—and Jester calls these the bad days—Mother won’t come see her for a very, very long time.

 This happens more as Jester gets older, as Mother starts forcing Jester to read all of the books that sit untouched on her desk, as Mother tells her to practice her singing and her painting, as Mother starts yelling at her and hurting her for being too loud, too disruptive, I can’t do my work with you around all the time, Jester!

 You must be quiet, she says with steely eyes. Nobody can know you are here.

 Jester doesn’t like the men and ladies that take up Mother’s time. But Mother insists that they are very nice people, and more than that, they give her all the money that lets Jester have nice things. And Jester—whose entire life is a smiling Mother who brings her beautiful dresses and lacy ribbons and shiny rings and gave her the silk sheets and the glittering inkwell and lovely toys and the huge bay window and one, gorgeous room—understands.

 So she keeps quiet. And everything, for a very long time, continues to be quiet.

 Jester sits in her room, alone.

 Now she is much older, or at least she thinks so, and asks Mother again and again when she will be allowed to leave her room. Mother never really gives her an answer to this, but always tells Jester, one day.

 Jester decides that today will be that day. Or rather, tonight will be that night.

She has been preparing for this moment. She’s practiced sneaking around the house, though she sticks to the upstairs hallway that holds hers and her mother’s room. The carpets are plush and a deep red so dark and rich it invokes a very specific feeling that Jester isn’t quite mature enough to understand yet. There are marble and silver statues lining the corridor that Jester ducks behind any time she hears footsteps coming from downstairs, or from behind her mother’s door. She sometimes musters up enough bravery to peek down the staircase, past the poles of the ornate banister, but she has never before been able to convince herself to take a step. She knows that down below, there’s a beautiful golden chandelier, smooth tiles, but nothing else.  

Dreaming of the world outside her room, Jester squeezes stuffed animals beneath her blanket in a tiefling-shaped bundle. Then she moves to the wardrobe. She knows, from things that Mother says sometimes, that not everybody will be alright with her horns and her tail. They are jealous, she assumes, but she is wise enough to know that jealousy can be a dangerous thing. So she pulls her nicest blue cloak over her head, and tucks her tail into her skirt even though it’s kind of uncomfortable. She slips on some brown boots and ties her little pouch onto her belt. She listens at the wall and can her hear mother in the middle of a song, one of Jester’s favorites, a slow and sad melody about a girl lost at sea. This song means her mother is right now showing off to a new client, and since it is evening, she will be busy for hours.

She snuffs out her candles, and slips out the door.

Jester sits in her room, alone. There are tears running down her face. It is dark.

The first hour had been wonderful, better than anything she could ever have dreamed up herself. The glowing strings of lights between the colorful buildings had looked like stars, and there were people—huge, tall people!—milling about and laughing and smiling at every corner. She had bought a doughnut off a man who looked very confused about the five gold she had paid him, and was told by a nice lady that her dress was pretty. She had stopped and smelled huge red flowers growing by the side of a building, and had watched golden birds flit across the evening sky. A nice stranger in a long cloak like hers pointed her towards “the beach” when she asked, and she skipped along the cobblestone path, under the faint warm glow of the streetlights, until she got there.

It went wrong, so very wrong, when she was caught fixing a merchant’s cart. She thought it would be funny if she mixed around the trinkets and shiny baubles he had lying around. She wasn’t stealing, she was just trying to make him laugh. But the man, hornless and tail-less, had not believed her. She could remember the anger in his eyes, the way he called her “little devil,” and the fear that churned in her chest when he picked up a large wooden stick from behind his stall and started moving closer. For a moment, his tangled black hair was beautiful deep red curls and his clenched teeth were pointed and the stick was a candlestick and Mother was very, very angry with Jester and she didn’t mean to do it, she just tripped in her room and please mother I promise I’ll be good I’m sorry I’ll be quiet—

 —and now Jester refuses to let a sound escape her. Her cloak is lying on the bed, ripped. It had gotten caught on something as she was running back to her room, from the scary man and his scary friends and something else pounding in her tired little heart.

 She wants to try and comfort herself with a song, but knows that if she wakes anybody up next door, Mother really will be angry with her. She can never know that Jester had been outside her room, let alone outside the house. So Jester buries her face into a stuffed owlbear and shakes in the quiet.

 And then a warm hand gently touches her on the shoulder. She almost flinches away, hard, but the gesture is so comforting and so peaceful that she finds herself relaxing slightly.

 And then she hears a voice, lilting and calm, echoing in the back of her mind.  

 It wasn’t your fault, Jester.

 She looks around, holding the owlbear close to her chest. “…hello?” She whispers as quietly as she dares.

 Hello, Jester.

 Her voice is barely a breath on the wind. “How do you know my name?”

 I know a lot of things. I am a god.

 Growing excitement makes her voice quiver. “A god?” she asks. “Like the Storm Lord or the Dawnfather or the Annoying Mistress or the—”

 She breaks off when the stranger starts chuckling. Oh, that’s a good one. I’ll remember that one. No, I’m not a god like they are. And before Jester can get disappointed the voice says, I’m a different kind of god. I’m not looking for servants or worshippers. I’m just looking for a friend. And you seem to be someone who might also want a friend.

Jester’s eyes widen. “I do!” she says just a little bit louder than she intended, “I want one really badly. Will you be mine? I have lots of toys and books that we can share, and oh, I can tell you all about today! It was very, very cool,  mostly.”

 I’d like that, says the voice.

 “What should I call you, if we’re going to be friends?”

How about…the Traveler?

 Jester beams, though she still isn’t sure where to look. “It is very nice to meet you, the Traveler,” she says quietly. “Would you like to hear about the flowers I saw today?”

 Why don’t you show me? A breeze suddenly stirs through the room, and a little, leather-bound sketchbook that had been lying on Jester’s desk briefly flies open. A charcoal stick rolls off a nearby shelf, and bumps into it.

 I hear you’re a very good artist, says the Traveler.

 “I am!” Jester whispers excitedly.

 She rushes over to the desk, dragging a cushioned stool to the space on her right so her new friend can watch her draw. And as her charcoal darts across the blank pages, for the first time in a very, very long time, Jester sits in her room. And she is not alone.