#weichei being asked to be someone's ears

[knightcallie]

Baldur's Bounties: Language Learning

Language was something everyone shared and learned over their lifetime, and it came in many forms. Even a common language can have hundreds and thousands of different dialects. Weichei didn't realize his was so different than Faerûn's and forgets he wasn't with his typical party.

Weichei didn’t think it would’ve been a problem. He really, really didn’t think it would be one. All the gazes were questioning, his own lips parted and hands wondering how to sign next.

“Is, Is my Elvish that different?” he queried, signed.

Astarion’s gaze squinted, posture leaning towards one side. “Well— It’s still recognizable, but it’s more—” His coiffed head bobbled, trying to place it. “Sing-songy?” he offered, “Definitely different enough that I could notice darling.” His ruby eyes briefly glanced down at the drow’s hands.

Periwinkle eyes glance up briefly, before bobbling in self-affirmation. “Ruben does take on a more musical take on languages,” he recalled, “Kinda. Thought elvish in general sounds more sing-songy? To non-elves at least.”

Shadowheart lifted her chin a bit, brows furrowed a tad. “A bit, but I suppose it depends where you reside.” Her arms folded across her chest. “But you definitely don’t sound like a Faerûn native.”

There’s the unspoken ‘don’t look like one either’, but Wyll does note, “Or perhaps he’s from a part of Faerûn none of us been to. Northeast perhaps?”

The drow shook his head. “Fenim actually,” he replied, “Rubenschaun, Fenim. I’m not too sure how far exactly it is to Faerûn, but…” The forestline, he wondered how Beau was faring. “Far enough.”

It led to lots more questions about where he came from, what’s it like over there, the languages. Gale was particularly eager, and Weichei happily answered. Eres’ blessing burned pleasantly against his skin, patiently passionate. There’s talk about the possibility of using sign and signals in their repertoire, just to make communication easier on the battlefield. But, it will take teaching, and Weichei does have to think about what were the easier signs and signals to teach and see on the battlefield.

Though somehow, it did relax him enough to use a language he only really used for people he’s close to. He was sitting by Halsin, absentmindedly listening to the campfire talk during dinner. At some point, he must’ve reached for his hand, signing what the other’s were talking about, noting each speaker with a specific letter. He doesn’t really notice the eyes, until Lae’zel spoke up.

“What are you signing? Are you hiding something from us?” 

Her harsh voice broke through his lull, his eyes blinking owlishly. Periwinkle eyes looked around, before landing on the large wood elf. A smile was received when it landed on him, before Weichei returned his gaze to the audience. “Uh—”

“Oh, telling some saucy secrets are we?” Astarion grinned, a suggestive smirk on his lips. “Care to share with the class darling?”

“If it helps,” Halsin started, “I do not know this code you’ve been signing on my hand, so I’m afraid there’s no secrets to be had,” he chuckled.

Karlach then piped with a groan, “Don’t tell me this is another thing we gotta learn, I’ve only got so much space to spare in this noggin’!”

At this point, Weichei had returned his hands to his chest before smiling sheepishly. “No, no— This was just something when I was still in my early years in bounty hunting.” He tucked a loc behind his ear. “Having cannons blow off so often does something to your hearing.” He tapped at his earrings, an enchanted gift from his closest friends and family. “Lorm just makes it easier to keep me in the loop or just have less misunderstandings.” He looked off into the distance with an amused look on his face, a memory surfacing. “I’m so glad I was safe from being eaten for dinner.”

[another-tired-anarchist]

New book about World War Three

I am working on a book that I am going to eventually publish (not online, through an actually publisher to be sold) that is about the Third World War. I am trying to decide if I want to publish the story online at all or just wait so it is completely a surprise when it comes out. The idea is that there is a college student, Kristian Walsh, who keeps having long dreams about soldiers during different eras in wars around the world. He starts having dreams, or "visions" of him fighting in world war three, a war that hasn't happened yet. He uses his so called visions to gain intel and tries to stop the war from happening. Anyway, I am done with two chapters so far but I figured I would post a preview of chapter one to see if anyone is even interested in the book or idea.

My ears were assaulted by a loud noise that I quickly identified as a bomb going off. I felt the ground beneath my feet shake violently causing the ground rushed up to meet me as I fell to my knees, my arms grabbing my head to hopefully provide some sort of protection. Once I felt enough strength I ran behind a large building and leaned against it. I don’t know what kind of bomb it was but telling from the sound and the strength it couldn’t have been that bad.

I clutched my gun to my chest and took a deep breath. The lingering smell of iron was haunting me, reminding me of the blood that soaked the once rich soil. I glanced around me, taking note of what buildings still remained knowing they might not be here for long. I made eye contact with another soldier clad in a green camouflage uniform. He nodded at me before walking out from the building he was behind. Our base isn’t far from here but according to the explosion a mere few moments ago the Russians may have found us. That or they are close. 

I ran my fingers through my brown hair, which was damp from sweat and a lack of proper bathing in at least 5 days. When I looked at the man again he was already at least 50 feet from me. I moved my gun so it hung across my back before sprinting after him. 

“Zamoroz'te!” Someone yelled in Russian. I saw the man freeze as three Russian soldiers came out from behind a building. Being a good distance away from him I quickly ducked into a large building. In this moment I felt so grateful to be positioned in Norilsk because it is an industrial city, full of large buildings. I looked threw the boarded up window of the old shop I was in.

I couldn’t hear what they were thinking but before I knew it the man’s body was on the ground, shot through the chest by the small hand held HELLAD the man is armed with. I felt bile rise in my throat as the two men walked away. I clutched my weapon closer. I know that this is a war but seeing death this close… it is hard. I slowly rose from the cold floor where I had fallen in case they look this direction.

After checking the space around me for any signs of movement I ran towards the man. I knew he was dead but the part of my heart that still had a shred of hope drove me to check for his pulse. I looked at his face and was flooded with guilt. This man had a life, a family. He had so much to live for. I took a deep breath. We all knew the risks… But we also know that if Russia wins this it is over for us all. I gently shut his eyes. He looks like he is sleeping. I took off my top layer and placed it over him, covering his face and part of his chest. 

To replace my upper layer I donned my quantum camo, wrapping it to cover me fully before I started the walk to base. I did not make it far before I heard the near silent rumble of military grade trucks. 

Goddamn it. I turned to my south and sure be it there was a group of trucks heading my direction, the hammer and sickle immediately giving away what side they fought on. I fought the urge to run, knowing it would leave behind footprints in the fresh mud. After taking a few small steps I swore, looking down at my 3 very prominent footprints. Looking up and seeing them close I made the decision to lay on the ground, atop my prints. For the first time in ages, I actually prayed. I awoke with a start, a scream trapped in my throat. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. My face was dampened by the cold sweat I must have broken into at some point in the night. I glances around the darkness of my small room and grasped gently at the small black and white quilt. It was a gift from my grandmother when I graduated high school. She had passed away the year previous and given the blanket to my mother. I smiled at her memory. She was such an amazing woman. With an over exaggerated sigh I forced myself out of the warmth and regretted it the moment my feet hit the cold floor.

I could hear Jonathan’s music playing from his room down the hall. I grabbed a pair of socks and walked, or rather slid, down the small hallway to the kitchen to get some food. I opened the pantry and grabbed a half empty box of cereal. I really need to go shopping, we are low on literally everything. After grabbing a cracked porcelain bowl and pouring in a small portion I went and sat down at the small wooden dining table. 

“God-” I cut my profanity short as I got up again to grab a spoon. As I was riffling through the silverware drawer Jonathan came out of his room and met me in the kitchen.

“G’morning.” He mumbled, attempting to rub the sleep from his hazel eyes. In the mornings his voice usually holds the slightest British accent that he has lost since he moved to the states when he was young. I smiled at him as he grabbed a cup and paused.

“Kristian, do you want a cup of coffee?” He asked, turning on the balls of his feet to look at me. I nodded and went back to my bowl. He handed me the cup and started walking away with the pot.

“Test in Jurisprudence?” I asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded and took a sip from the pot.

“Test’s at noon, I have been up all night.” His voice sounded groggy as he took another swig from the pot. I shook my head as he left and took another bite of my cereal. That kid really needs to get some sleep. I’ll make him go to bed after the exam. I washed my bowl and spoon (Something that Jonathan apparently doesn’t know how to do) before going to my room to throw all of my things in my bag for period one. 

I have my class for Criminology which is in the west building, maybe a 15 minute walk from our shared apartment, right outside of campus. Maybe I will take my bike. As I slung my sky blue and tan bag over my shoulder I thought back to my dream. That is the sixth time this month that I have had a dream like this and I am in the dark for the reason behind them. The air that surrounds me is cold and brisk, the autumn wind breeze gently rustling the brown and orange tinted leafs as the world moved past me.

I drew my hands into the sleeves of my jacket, a small shiver working its way out from my core as a passed the fountain. This fountain always makes me think of my little sister Mia. She is only five but every time mum takes her to visit she loves to throw coins into the water. Everyone loves her so she gets a lot of attention and always ends up surrounded by college students offering her pennies to toss in after her cute little wishes. 

I parked my bike with a sigh with a sigh and made my way quickly to Mr. Gibbs room, hoping to get there in time to get a seat closer to the board to help with my poor eyesight, as well as to set up my laptop in peace. Unfortunately for me by the time I arrived there was already five or six people there. I popped in my headphones and pressed play on my playlist Weichei and the first song to play was Bees by The Ballroom Thieves. I smiled and put in the other headphone, letting the music carry my thoughts away to a beautiful place. 

My mind wrote with such fluidity that I didn’t fully process the words appearing on the paper. I hummed along with the music, feeling it reverberate in my very soul. To my despair the class started after only three short paragraphs. I took out my headphones and set them atop my desk. 

As the teacher droned on I let my gaze fall to my paper and my eyes scanned what I had written and much to my frustration I noticed that about halfway through one of the sentences my words switched from English to Italian, as happens every so often when I get distracted or frantic. I gripped my eraser and erased my work after memorizing the lines translation. 

“Kristian! This is no time for doodling, eyes up front please.” I lightly rolled my eyes before turning back to the board. ‘I once read that I should write something worth reading or I should do something worth writing about.’ I let my eyes focus back on Professor Gibbs. He was an older man, his hair becoming speckled with spots of grey. His eyes still held that spark that only passion can give. Even after 35 years of teaching he still had his passion and I will admit, I admire him for that.

My eyes began to wander around the room, landing on random students, my mind coming up with what their lives may be like. They landed on a boy, his curly jet black hair going to the base of his neck. His eyes gleamed with a curiosity, just like my own. I wonder what his life like? Does he still have all his family or did he lose his father young like I did? What does he do after class? Does he have a girlfriend? Boyfriend?

I focused back on Gibbs, trying to take in what he was saying but my mind seemed to be against me. Looking at the clock and an hour had already passed. I smiled and looked back at Gibbs for the remaining 15 minutes. With the knowledge that I am almost free the class seemed to pass quicker and before I knew it Gibbs was telling everyone their homework and excusing us. I quite literally shoved everything, with the exception of my writing notebook, into my bag before heading to the door. After throwing a fast “Have a good day” over my shoulder I left, just wanting to go back to my apartment.

[knightcallie]

Baldur's Bounties: What if...?

What if the Fenim poly were all present? Casually vacationing in Faerûn and suddenly you got yoinked by mindflayers? Interactions hard with this many people.

Temerity wanted to claw the inside of his head. All that wriggling made it feel like a pounding headache, sharp knives digging into his eye. Teeth bared, he snarled and clenched his jaw. “For fuck’s sake,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes close. It’s awful, he’d rather be black out drunk and wake up with a raging headache as Jilola slammed into the room yelling at the band to get the fuck up.

Beau’s brows drew together, trying to get the pounding to a dull throb. Pressing a palm to his temple, he took in the wreckage of the pod room he was in. No one recognizable, but the vat that held the tadpoles was hardly intact. Getting kidnapped by mindflayers and being hazed in with a tadpole was not in the getaway itinerary, but here they were. He needed to find his husbands quick.

Weichei took in the pod he was in, feeling for a seam he could take advantage of. He lets out a small groan when he felt that little passenger wriggle behind his eye, wondering if somehow his blood could weaken it. Surely the mindflayers didn’t have a mind to flush out his body, unless having a little over 50 years of microdosing poisons and venoms was all for naught. Maybe he still has his hidden weapons…

When the nautiloud crashed, Weichei made quick work to gather his senses and loot any bodies. He apologized to each body, closing their eyes before shooting a quick prayer to Paeon. May the gentle death lead them safely to their resting place. Taking a note out of Beau’s survival tips, he took advantage of the foliage and awaited any opportunities.

Beau had groaned and worked out the kinks in his bones. He hadn’t slept on the hard ground like that in the longest time, taking in the lay of the land. He could faintly hear someone slamming against something, following the sound to find the half-elf he saw on the ship and attempted to free. Shadowheart was her name, and he gladly let her travel with him. Always nice to have company, even if he was a druid of shepherds.

~~~

In a way, Beau shouldn’t be surprised how he found Temerity. They were coming up a hill when he noticed the familiar ombre hair of the tiefling. Relieved recognition was on his face, calling out to the wood elf before being pulled down with a knife at his throat. “Oh Ones Above,” he grumbled, quickening his pace.

An equally pale person, fully elven, was shushing the ever loud frontman and asking for information while also threatening to decorate the road with his guts. “Careful, he’s into that shit,” Beau said exasperatedly, arms crossed.

Temerity merely smirked. “Oh, you know me so well Beau,” he purred, tail swishing. 

Then, perhaps the tadpoles connected. The pale elf let the tiefling go, apologies on his lips. Added to their growing party it seems, and he’s quite relieved to find one husband. Especially the one who was most likely to die on his own if not careful… But, they were both worried when neither had seen their little bat, on the ship or anywhere around here. 

They got to answering how they knew each other, both acquainted fair elves wondering about it. They don’t disclose they were married, simply saying they were in the same band. Beau the bassist cellist, and Temerity the frontman, sometimes guitar. They were vacationing, searching for some inspiration during this down time in their schedules.

The next additions came when they stumbled upon a druid grove. A trio were demanding entry, a tiefling or two denying it. But then, the mention of goblins had turned into urgency and manifested them. They kinda had to join the fight, having a glimpse of someone calling themself the Blade of Frontiers. There was also surprise support, Beau’s and Temerity’s ears pricking in the familiar bang of a firearm as a githyanki came out swinging with a war cry out of nowhere. But the heat and power was far beyond what was typically produced. 

When it was all over, the rest of the surprise support revealed themselves, and Temerity cried out in relief. “Cheri!” he exclaimed, running over and holding the drow tight. 

Weichei squeaked when the tiefling basically threw himself at him, but wrapped his arms around his neck all the same. Temerity’s tail wrapped around his waist, and he leaned his entire weight into the other. “Hi, hi!” Weichei exclaimed, equally relieved. He does little hops to equalize the weight distribution, nuzzling into Temerity. 

It always felt like they parted too quickly, but the drow insisted they should get inside before more come. Quick introductions though as they did, Weichei found a wizard named Gale in a broken waypoint and Lae’zel stuck in a trap. There were more questions of how the three knew each other as the drow pressed into Beau’s side.