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#my au .
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Here's Pomni for my personal tadc au: The Rotting Digital Circus
Yes, I changed her hair color, bite me.
In this au, he's more of an asshole and always tired and irritated. They hate their life and always cuss out Caine. She also has mental breakdowns and uses violence to cope.
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lumyxluminous · 3 days
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Here’s my Ever after High Life au!
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•.Scar.•
Parent: mad hatter
Roommate: Grian
Class: Rebel
Details: runs a coffee shop, has tea times at the most random times, loves teasing, has a hat that gives him anything he wants as long as he’s seen it before.
~~~~~~~~~~
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•.Grian.•
Parent: White rabbit
Roommate: Scar
Class: Royal
Details: overworks, sews as a hobby, always has a clock, and calculates how much time he has to do things.
~~~~~~~~~~
I’ll probably do more for this au but for now have this that I finished today! I’m finally happy with colors so yea. If you have any questions please ask and I’ll answer when I’m not sick anymore! Anyway, ima go sleep.
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Brain gunk from my AU
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luupidraws · 3 days
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WIP
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Just some AU stuff
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nevertheless-moving · 23 hours
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From This AU (you might want to skim this for context on canon divergence), with thoughts and beta from @sorchasolas and @magentasomething
"Thank you again, Adolin,” Shallan said. “This was perfect — exactly what I needed to get restarted on some of my natural studies."
Kaladin rolled his eyes at the lighteyed chatter, trying yet again to tune them out.
It was a bit easier now that they were away from that menagerie; the moving crowds provided plenty of threats to draw his attention. Harder, because that also meant he had to stay close, which unfortunately meant hearing the two simper at one another.
His mind wandered again to Amaram, in his golden cloak.
So much for coming forward as radiant. His stomach churned.
"Kaladin," Syl said softly, floating beside his shoulder.
He shook his head, not looking at her, forcing himself to focus. For some storming reason, the Davar woman had insisted on walking back through Sebarial's camp to be escorted to her quarters, wanting to take the 'scenic' route.
On one level he was glad — an alternative arrangement might have led to sharing a carriage with Wit or Dalinar or Amaram —
He shook his head again. Threats, I’m  supposed to be focusing on threats. My job right now is keeping Adolin Kholin alive. Focus on that. He scanned the lighteye marketplace: shops selling exotic fabrials, winehouses with noxious colored wines, lofty conversations containing sphere totals that could buy his hometown.
Snippets of conversation buffeted him.
"That horrendous scarf, I can't believe he actually thought that shade of green—"
"I know! Humiliating isn't it? So last—"
"Tell me more about this one?"
"Fine taste, my esteemed citizen, very fine taste. All the way from—"
"I'm terribly sorry, Brightlady, but I'm afraid you've been misinformed.  We've been just as hard hit for supply by the... unpleasantness as anywhere else."
"Oh dear. So hardly any for sale?
Kaladin froze, turning back quickly.
No. Impossible. It can't have been her voice.
She's dead.
They're all dead.
He spun back to his charges, cursing when he realized how far ahead they had gotten. He jogged to catch up, pushing through the crowd.
Adolin turned over his shoulder to glance at him, frowning at his expression. 
"Something the matter, bridgeboy?" The tone was light, but his eyes scanned the surroundings warily, hand slightly to the side.
"No," Kaladin answered brusquely. "Apologies, Brightlord, I thought I heard something, but was mistaken."
Adolin nodded, then turned back to Shallan. They only moved forward a few steps when he heard her again.
"Kaladin!"
Great, now he was imagining her calling his name. He tightened his hands on his spear, not turning back. It had to be in his head. He hadn't been getting enough sleep. Wit, The Whitespine in that cage, Amaram, Amaram being named Radiant — the day had rattled him.
"Kal!" 
Adolin and Shallan stopped for some reason, turning back, looking...over his shoulder?
"Someone you know, bridgeboy?" Davar said with a bemused expression.
"Kaladin!"
Kaladin turned slowly, looking behind him, but all he saw was a crowd of lighteyes and rich citizen merchants. One Brightlady was pushing her way through the throngs of people towards their position.
She looked...familiar. Had he seen her in Sadeas's camps? He blinked. Something about her face didn't make sense. And her voice. She opened her mouth.
"Kaladin!"
The Brightlady had his mother's voice.
And face, older, with unfamiliar eyes but...it was her. She was calling his name.
His mind went blank.
- - - 
"Someone you made angry?" Adolin asked, but the captain didn't seem to even notice the question. None of that funny wrinkled nose or slightly bulging forehead vein when he said something annoying.
"Captain?" Adolin asked, starting to get concerned at the way the man was white knuckling his spear. He didn't reply, and the look on his face... it was more haunted than before, after, or during their fight with the Assassin.
He looked back at the unfamiliar Brightlady; she didn't look like a threat, but...
"Adolin," Shallan whispered urgently, leaning in. "I overheard her when we were walking by. She's a slave trader, I think I heard her say she's in the Shattered Plains looking to buy, since the rebellions have disrupted trade elsewhere." 
Adolin felt a sinking sensation in his gut.
"Captain?" Adolin asked more softly. "Is she...did she used to..."
He didn't finish the sentence. The bridgeman clearly wasn't looking his direction. Despite her height, it would be a stretch to call the woman physically intimidating. Adolin had never been property before. But he did know how cruel Brightladies could be to anyone they considered beneath them for any reason, worse for those of low dahn, worse again for servants. He didn't want to think about how terrible some might be to slaves, those without even a shadow of protection under the law...
Shallan was looking at the former Bridgeman with concern.
"I'll take care of this," Adolin muttered to the both of them, stepping in front of the still unresponsive guard.
"Kal! It is you!" The woman cried, nearly upon them.
"Brightlady!" Adolin said cheerfully, stepping forward and tactfully blocking Kaladin from view with his bulk. "I don't think we've had the pleasure of being introduced. I see you're familiar with my Captain of the Guard. My name, as you may know, is Adolin Kholin, Heir to the Kho—"
A boulder, or a chull — something suddenly hit him. He was airborne a moment, before hitting the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of him.
He scrambled to his feet, heart already pounding for his Shardblade. A distraction for their guard, and an attack, it must have been planned — Shallan, she —
He blinked starspren from his eyes, looking around for attackers. But all he saw was the Brightlady — hugging the bridgeboy? And —- the bridgeboy was hugging her back?
"Mom?" Captain Kaladin said, and Adolin didn't think he'd ever heard that much emotion in the man's voice. 
"You're...alive?" the Captain whispered, just loud enough for Adolin to overhear. Yellow shockspren formed, breaking around him.
Adolin blinked again, not thinking right now about why those words sent a pang through his heart.
He stepped up beside Shallan, who was staring wide eyed at two, clinging to each other for dear life in the middle of the thoroughfare.
She wasn't the only one; they had drawn a bit of a crowd — the two cut fairly noticeable figures. A Brightlady and a shashbranded darkeyes crying in each others’ arms, both a good foot taller than the average passerby.
"Did — did the bridgeboy knock me over because I got in the way of him seeing his mother?" Adolin muttered to Shallan, only slightly indignant.
He perhaps should be angrier but...another pang went through him as he looked at the pair.
"No, actually," she replied absently.
"Then what—"
"His mother knocked you over. Guess she hadn't seen her son in a while and wasn't going to let anyone stand in her way, not even a highprince's son."
Adolin looked down at Shallan.
"...You're joking," he said finally.
Shallan coughed in her hand, not meeting his eyes. "I'm not actually."
Adolin squinted at her.
"I swear! It was..." she waved her freehand in a dramatic sweeping motion. "She sent you flying! It was... very surprising!"
She coughed into her hand again, and he strongly suspected she was laughing at him. He just wasn't sure if it was because of the lie, or because a distracted mother had knocked a Shardbearing Prince aside like crem on a doorframe.
"Begging your pardon, Brightlord," a nearby merchant said. "But she's telling the truth." 
Adolin stared at him, and the man flushed, but held his ground. "It's really not the sort of thing you see everyday, I'm certain I'm not mistaken."
He shrunk back as Adolin continued to look at him.
Damnation, he thought, finally turning away. How strong is that woman? He had only been barely prepared to accept that storming Stormblessed could have knocked him that hard from a standstill let alone—
There is something not normal about that family. 
- - - 
"Mom—how—"
He pulled back, staring into her eyes. Her pale, violet eyes. Had she...gotten a Shardblade? The idea was insane. And yet...
"Kaladin..." she said softly, glancing around them and letting out a small huff.
A brilliant white spren appeared between them, and Kaladin leaned back, staring almost cross-eyed at it.
"My lady wishes me to inform you that she will be happy to explain her appearance at a later date, however—"
"Oh!" Kaladin said, things clicking into place.
"You...understand?" Hesina said hesitantly.
Kaladin nodded, smiling.
Syl zipped between them as well, squealing with delight.
"Ooh! Ooh! I've been wanting to meet you! I mean I've seen you before, because the winds were always with Kaladin, but oh! This is great!"
"You too?" Hesina said, smiling widely. "Of course. Oh, Kaladin."
"He thought you were dead!" Syl said growing uncharacteristically grave. "You never left Hearthstone before. And then Laral said you went to the city, to find him, and never came back, but there were reports of violent riots." Kaladin made a soft noise of agreement.
"You thought that...oh I'm so so sorry Kaladin. We had to look for you. Stormfather, we practically tore the country apart looking for you." Her hands moved up to cup his cheeks, the radiant spren shifting to either side of her arms.
"Is..." He couldn't get the words out.
"Is his father alright?" Syl asked quietly.
"Yes!” the ball of light — what type of spren was she anyway — said proudly. "The father is back in the tall town with the younger siblings."
Kaladin sighed in relief, then gripped his mothers shoulders, gently pressing in.
"Wait, what? Siblings?"
- - - 
“Are they… talking in code?” Adolin asked, bewildered.
Shallan seemed to actually consider the question, which made Adolin feel less stupid, which was nice. She finally shook her head.
“I don’t think so. Not that I can tell anyway, and I have some talent in detecting patterns.”
They continued to talk in maddeningly half finished questions and answers, which the two of them seemed to understand perfectly, going by their reactions. Apparently bridgeboy had believed that both his parents were dead? But they weren't? And he had siblings he didn't know about? 
Adolin hadn't even realized that he had been curious about the man's life.
She cocked her head. “I suppose this explains bridgeboy’s conversational skills, if he’s used to people who can apparently interpret and intend full sentences from and with grunting.”
“Oh, this explains more than that,” Adolin said, a number of bizarre behaviors slotting into place. The way he talked down to everyone, even lighteyes. The education that he had to have had — he had seen the Captain using glyph pairs to send orders through messengers. Storms, the way he carried himself. Adolin grinned. Yes, a Brightlady mother explained a lot, though not everything.
He was going to enjoy teasing the rest out of him.
Shallan seemed to have the same thought, eyes twinkling.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said demurely. “But perhaps you would care to join us in our walk, Brightlady…”
She paused leadingly, but Stormblessed’s mother just smiled.
“Please, call me Hesina.”
Not sharing a family name, Adolin thought in exasperation. Of course she’s as mysterious as her son.
“I’m afraid I really do need to check back with the rest of my party,” Hesina said, and he could see Kaladin’s hands tighten around hers.
“Well, we should be safe enough, if you want to take the rest of the day, b — Captain.”
“No,” the man said. He glanced around, glaring at the crowd. Several people bustled immediately into motion as his eyes fell upon them, and soon enough traffic was flowing fairly normally. Adolin rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure the king would have had a hard time — that was probably a bad example. He was fairly sure his father would have had a hard time clearing a group of gawkers like that, with sheer presence alone.
Hesina chuckled. “I’ve seen you’ve grown into your father’s disapproving glare. Ha! Oh, Kal you won’t believe who he stared down a few months back.”
Stormblessed, to Adolin’s delight, seemed to flush at that, lips twisting upwards into what one, if they were being a bit generous, could call a smile. “He’s well then? You — and my younger —“ Kaladin’s expression seemed to stutter at that.
“We’re all well,” she said softly, and Adolin's heart shouldn’t be aching this badly. It really shouldn’t. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her son’s forehead. Adolin looked away, feeling out of place. Shallan continued staring at the two of them, with…hunger in her eyes. A deep longing, that passed in a moment, smoothed over by genteel patience. If he hadn’t been looking right at her at that exact moment, he would have missed it.
“I’m sorry mother, I really do need to get back to my duty now.”
“I’ll find you later. We’ll talk about… everything. Oh my sweet boy. Kaladin. I knew we’d find you.” She smiled again, eyes watery, then pulled away.
Their hands stayed clasped until the last moment, arms stretching as they both stepped back, fingers reluctant to let go. Then she turned, quickly slipping back into the crowd, then turned a corner, and was gone.
Kaladin stared in the direction she had came around for a long moment, then turned back, face and posture stiff.
“Apologies for the interruption, Brightlord Kholin, Brightlady Davar.”
Adolin rolled his eyes. “I think, under the circumstances, I can forgive a small dereliction of duty.”
“Provided, of course,” Shallan added lightly. “You tell us all about your charming, brightlady mother.”
She clasped his arm with her freehand, then started slowly pulling him along into the current of traffic.
Adolin raised an eyebrow at her, and she jerked her head firmly.
Storms, where has this woman been all my life.
He pressed into the other side of the captain, slinging an arm around his shoulder so he couldn’t move behind or in front of them. The man, incredibly, grew even stiffer as they walked at a leisurely pace towards the Sabrial Manor.
“This is not an effective position for me to protect you from,” he said grimly as he was dragged forward.
“Less efficient than when you were frozen in place? Or having a touching family reunion in a crowded marketplace?” Shallan said, and Adolin winced slightly. She probably didn’t realize how seriously the man took his job.
Bridgeboy grunted as if wounded.
“Besides, this is perfect! You’re guarding my right, Adolin’s left. You don’t have to strain to hear what we’re saying to make fun of us; we don’t have to strain to hear your mean spirited snorts of derision.”
Bridgeboy grunted again, but Adolin wasn’t sure how to interpret it.
“So…” she said, sounding thoughtful. “She seemed rather well appointed to be a tenner. But anything higher must have been quite the scandal.”
He felt Stormblessed’s shoulders flex under his arm, and for one insane moment he actually thought he was going to attack Shallan.
Adolin cleared his throat. “That must have been…good though, right? I mean…it sounded like you thought she was dead. It must have been good. To see her.”
He grunted again, and Adolin felt a sharp, possibly disproportionate spike of annoyance. He brought his right hand around to poke the Captain in the cheek.
“Come on! That’s not enough to get you to crack a smile? You just learned your mother is alive!”
The Captain froze, soulcast to stone for all Adolin would be able to get him to move forward. Shallan stumbled.
Kaladin bent over slightly, breath escaping as if punched out. Adolin watched in somewhat sick fascination as emotions passed over his face, each clear as the purelake, intense as a high storm.
Grief, Rage, Confusion. Joy, Relief, Delight, Disbelief. Relief again, Pain, Guilt, Pain, Love.
Emptionspren flickered around him, disappearing too quickly to register as anything more than shifting light. He was vaguely surprised the man didn’t fall fully to his knees. Adolin felt dizzy just watching someone feel that hard. It reminded him of Renarin, before he learned to draw in on himself, boxing out the world.
“They’re alive…” Stormblessed whispered, hunching over further. “They didn’t die. They’re alive.” Tears streamed freely down his face, and another small crowd started to clump up. This time Adolin glared them away, waiting for the man to gather himself.
When the Captain straightened, Adolin guided their group to a nearby alleyway, where it would be at least harder for passersby to watch and listen.
“Well?” The Captain finally snapped, voice hoarse. “Going to mock me now? Ask if I’m a bastard? Threaten to have me fired for unprofessional behavior?”
He glared, red-eyed, at Shallan, then Adolin.
Adolin flinched, but didn’t look away, and neither did she.
“No,” Shallan whispered. Her eyes were…haunted. Ever-present smile gone. “No. I shouldn’t have made light of this. I’m sorry...I used to dream about my mother coming back…about it all being a misunderstanding. About us being a family again. I can only imagine how much you’re feeling right now.”
Kaladin’s eyes widened as he looked at her, apparently surprised by what he found there.
That pang from earlier ripped through his heart. So that’s what it was. “Me too,” he said, roughness in his own voice surprising him. “It didn’t make sense that political dissidents… I just kept waiting to hear that it was a mistake and there was some…”
He cleared his throat, wiping at suddenly burning eyes.
“I didn’t,” Kaladin whispered. “I…thought something must have happened to them. I thought it almost as soon as I left home. Our Brightlord…a part of me was sure they would be dead If I ever made it back. Couldn’t afford to get letters back, so I just sort of…lived with the dread. Figured if I didn’t confirm anything at least I could hold onto a shred of hope. I tried not to think about them when I was…after the army. I couldn’t. Then, when I finally got free… and I learned more about the riot. I had heard that houses — I thought maybe I might be actually able to help, if they were in trouble. And I had real money for the first time…
He shuddered.
“I hired a spanreed... Laral said they went to look for me. They never left town before that. Never. And as soon as they did…to try and find me, somehow pay my slave debt even though that would have been impossible…” His voice grew bitter. “That was right at the start of the first riots in Sadeus. When they didn’t return, the town assumed they must have been caught up in the madness and killed. I thought they died because of me. Just like — just like everyone always—"
He laughed hoarsely, and Adolin didn’t know what to do, what to say in response to the terrible noise. He just gripped Kaladin’s shoulder more firmly.
Kaladin tensed, but didn't shake him off. “I don’t know why I’m trying to explain this to you.”
“The sorrow,” Shallan said softly.
Her voice grew so quiet Adolin couldn’t hear. He moved closer to her, reaching for her gently, not letting go of Kaladin, turning their awkward line into a small huddle.
"— feeling hope become stringy sinew and blood beneath your fingers as everything collapses?”
“Yes," Kaladin whispered.
Shallan looked up at Adolin, then blanched, turning to face the cobblestones.
When she looked back up, she was smiling, and it was beautiful — the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He felt Kaladin draw in a surprised breath.
They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing. They felt warm beneath Adolin's hands, and he didn't try to look for words.
Then a carriage clattered by, and the moment ended.
Kaladin cleared his throat, pulling away. Shallan arranged herself properly on Adolin's arm. The two of them left the alley, walking calmly, ignoring any curious eyes.
Bridgeboy trailed close behind, and the short rest of the walk to Shallan's residence went uneventfully, without any more words on the matter of mothers, without very many words at all.
Adolin waited until he was saying goodbye to Shallan to glance at the Captain again.
He was staring into the air, smiling.
Another pang went through Adolin's heart. He ignored it.
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arrowheadedbitch · 18 hours
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New Chapter, guys!
I'm so sorry to have missed the last two weeks updates, thank you all for your support and understanding
I'm really sorry that my comeback chapter is so short, please have mercy on me
https://archiveofourown.org/works/50546239/chapters/142101035
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1moreoffkeyanthem · 22 hours
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Style giving Moose catnip..
Plz tell me they do because I’m giggling imagining it
Oh my god NATURALLY!!! And Moose goes STUPID like bro is fucking hilarious just running around with his back arched posted up doin flips and the boys LIVE for it
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ashiiuou · 5 months
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merry christmas from henry and michael <3
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yaelartworks · 5 months
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most normal college professor^
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Dying by the hands of GOD.
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For my personal tadc au: The R0TT!NG Digital circus :/
When the masterpost is up ill put it here.
Anyways, Jax is pretty much the same in this au except he actually does things instead of threatening and not doing ittt
Go see Pomni!!!!
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kumakooo · 1 year
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Ohh Idol Wally got a gift from his beloved fan!
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(I think Barnaby fits on to be a bodyguard ☺️)
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luupidraws · 2 days
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ITS DONE
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I got a bit lazy with the sweater but ain’t he a doll?
Naw he’s a puppet
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papalimatango · 5 months
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Shopping sprees!
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reddit rarepair prompt > stormlight discord conversation > AU where after killing the king Moash goes to Mourn's Vault instead of giving himself over to Odium. Searches out Kaladin's ex. Finds her. It gets complicated. First:
Moash walked out of the palace unopposed the day he killed a king.
He stumbled a few times, parshman and human corpses littered the halls, and the light was strange and hard to come by, but no one actually stopped him. Or if they did, he killed them. He can't remember.
Everything between there and the tavern he was sitting in was a blur.
"I did it," he said hoarsely. "I actually did it."
No one said anything. He wasn't sure where the old owner, Jyn was. This was his grandfather's favorite place; he remembered coming here sometimes. Jyn gave him watered down yellow, but he put in a proper mug, like for a real man.
Their little secret, his grandfather would say.
He looked around. The place was empty. Right, he had to knock down the door to get in. Distantly, he could hear screaming. Fighting.
"I avenged them," he murmured to the dusty room.
"Come on, in and out—" Moash turned at the sound of voices, closer, coming from the wreckage of the door.
A man pushed his way in. "We grab a few bottles, so we have something to —"
The man stopped, catching sight of Moash in the dark and immediately reaching for his belt.
"What is it?" A voice said behind him. It was almost familiar.
"Someone here."
"Damnation."
"I did it," Moash said again, puffing out his chest. "Captain said I couldn't, but I did it. Sah's dead but…" His voice faltered, but he shook his head, clearing thoughts of marbled bodies. "I avenged them."
"Madman?"
"Obviously." "Reveler?" "Doesn't look like."
"Wait, wait — Moash? Is that you?"
Moash startled, squinting at the second man. "Mak?" Storms. A day for ghosts.
"Moash used to work the caravans with me," Mak whispered urgently. "He's strong, a man you want on your side when things get tricky."
Moash nodded. Yes. That was him. Strong. Someone you wanted on your side.
"You hiring, Mak?" Moash asked.
"Tell you what kid, help us get out of this city alive and we'll get you to the coast. Can't do better than that these days. "
"I'll want actual pay." But Moash was already standing as he spoke, hopping over the bar. "Especially if I'm helping you carry all this crem."
"We've got a contact near the border with Herdaz," Mak said quickly. "He'll pay us when we get there. Best we can do, times being what they are. How'd you end up here, Moash? I heard you went to the shattered plains for the last war, right?"
He didn't answer.
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