nexus_crossings | and in the laylines of stained glass i wondered (spoilers potentially)

and in the laylines of stained glass i wondered (spoilers potentially)

It's all so much. Compared to the monotone, white out wasteland of Eiselcross and....Aeor, to some extent, and Caduceus' ancestral home, Yasha half expected the damp, musty rainy field she'd fallen asleep in, but. No.
No, this was certainly not it.

It'd been a few hours of wandering around, keeping to herself mostly, and fretting about her friends---Beau, Caleb, Jester, Caduceus, Fjord, Veth---and finding no one. So, fighting off distress for now, she'd explore. They'd find her. Caleb was good with magic for finding, Jester doubly so, and she'd just have to do her best to listen for any floating voices in the ether. That's how a Sending worked, so, she'd go with it.

Oh, shoot. She still had Lady Kima's sword. Holy Avenger was a wonderful weapon, sure, but she'd promised to return it. If this didn't end up just being one great big dream, then...well. It'd be a long while before she saw Magician's Judge again.

So first, she'd explore some carts. The sweet and warm smells of coffee and other confections made her think of Jester, and any little comfort in the center of this 'Nexus' would be a boon, she knew it. Maybe if she wasn't here long, she could bring something back. Something for Jester, something for Beau.

Right. Hesitantly, she makes her way over to look and maybe make a purchase, if they took her gold here. Some small part of her wondered quietly if they'd have anything of the crunchier, beetle variety. She makes to tap on the shoulder of the nearest person, gently, as she knows---well. Sometimes she can be a bit imposing.

"Excuse me. Ah, What is your favorite flavor of coffee to get here? I've never tried any of them...What do you think wouldn't be too sweet?"

[[ EDIT WHOOPS FORGOT MY QUESTION. hiya! i'm becca, and i'm just screwing around with Yasha here, let me know if you'd like to plan anything/hit me up through DMs and we can plan! She's from about two episodes back in Critical Role Campaign Two, before they leave Caduceus' family in the Grove and go back to Aeor. My tags will be slow, just a forewarning! ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Since his little breakdown a bit over a week ago, Molly had been doing his best to try not to backslide into that same place again. It was hard admittedly, but he had support, people he could contact if the loneliness got too oppressive or the empty cold feeling yawned too threateningly wide inside of him.

And while he'd told himself the second room in his little apartment would be a ostentatious wardrobe, he'd found himself instead filling it with... flowers. There were so many here, varieties he was told were native to entirely different worlds and he found himself thinking of Yasha as he would carefully pick the best-looking pots of them. He wasn't entirely confident in his ability to keep them alive but if- when he saw Yasha again, he knew she would like them.

He was actually debating rummaging through the nursery again after a coffee, and Yasha would be forgiven for not realizing that it was Molly she'd come behind- his own coat was home drying after a careful washing, the dark blue one he was wearing just as ostentatious but with a riot of silver beads and embroidery, hood up which just hid his curls and horns. He felt the tap, already on the verge of turning to face them when he heard that familiar voice, a lurch of delighted joy hitting him with a jolt as he spun on his heel in a flare of dark blue and the starry hot-pink lining of his jacket, red eyes wide as he took in the sight of his very missed best friend.

"Yasha-" Sorry girl were you asking a question because nope it is time for a hug bring it in-!

And she thought that the Nexus Plaza was too much. It's probably the ostentatious beading that'd drawn her in initially, the grief long since passed for Molly, turned into reticence and familiar apprehension for Lucien. On instinct, she wants to push away. It couldn't be Mollymauk, that face and accent and feeling was long gone. The association was now with the person who wore her friends face now and killed her other friends for amusement.
To him, she looks different. She stands taller, her hair is grown some, there's a tangled ivy mess of vines and runes on her arm that twinkle emerald when the light hits it just right.
She's older. In the lines of her eyes when they crinkle with shock and worry as she pulls away.

"Wait---" her better judgement wins out. This could be a trap. This could all be a trap, a dream like Beau's. A little hope, a little wish in her head hopes that it isn't. That she'd talk to him in her dreams like she'd wanted to and get some closure.

"Just---wait. What's your name?" she asks hesitantly, hands tight on his shoulders when she creates distance.

His relief blinded him to the changes at first. Just too happy to see her, desperate to know that she was real, that he wasn't just imagining things. But he can't possibly ignore the recoil from his attempted embrace. Couldn't help the flash of hurt as he studied her, respected that distance she placed, though there was an aborted move, a hand lifted lightly as if he wanted to touch that odd tattoo she had before it dropped again.

"Molly," He felt uneasy, ill at the question. And if Yasha looked, he looked no different than he had when she'd last seen Molly. The only real difference being the nasty looking scar he'd gotten from Lorenzo, though it still looked new, fresh, mere weeks old. "Gods, he really is as bad as I was worried he'd be isn't he?"

Edited 2021-04-04 21:16 (UTC)

It's really the hurt look that tells her everything. Her hands move from his shoulders to his face, coming up to hold either side of it and feel how real he is, trying her best to address the fight in her mind between rationality, caution, and relief.
Molly. It's a verbal confirmation. There's no lie to it, and ~~after a solid Insight check~~ after he asks the obvious question, Yasha all but falls to her knees. Her arms circle around his waist, holding him to her. Her friend, her person, the first after her, someone she'd never thought she'd lose and then she did, someone who she never thought she'd see again.
It's a bear of a hug if anything, and she has to stop herself from tearing up too much.
She'd screamed, cried, and not fallen asleep for days after.

His presence was both a joy and a painful reminder of how she hadn't been able to protect him. She wasn't there.

So much had happened that she'd wished he was there for, that she'd seen him out of the corner of her eye in moments that she wished she didn't.
With a tight hug, she can barely bring herself to reply to him with anything other than a scoff in spite of her own sorrow, croaking out her response with the rasp of someone about to cry.

"...he's such an asshole. I missed you so much."

Edited 2021-04-05 01:40 (UTC)

As if Molly was any better, on the verge of his own tears, hidden easily as once the stance shifts and arms go around him his own fling around her in kind, just pinning as close as he could to her, basking in the warmth as he buried his face in against her shoulder. His best friend, and while he might scoff at the idea of romantic soulmates, as friends wasn't she his other half?

And yet he'd failed her when she'd needed him, he'd failed her utterly. It was such a relief to see those signs in her that she'd had a life past what had happened, that the others might have succeeded where he fell, for all he ached at that failure faced again with her. Not that he was about to let go for anything, a suspiciously watery chuckle following her assessment.

"Well then I maintain my superiority as Better Option," He muttered sardonically into her shoulder, tail curling around her arm. "As if I didn't miss you just as much."

"You absolutely are." she adds with another slightly sad scoff, really holding him as though he'll somehow disappear again. Her Mollymauk, her eye of her storm, her friend.

It's a rough beat of silence for a moment before she says what she means to immediately.

"...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there, if I could have---"

"Nope! None of that now!" He exclaimed, turning his head to press a kiss to her cheek with an exaggerated muwah! "No apologizing for a thing that wasn't your fault I won't have it, especially not now. Let's get you your coffee and you can tell me all about what you've been up to because something tells me that is a story and a half."

And because it would keep her there with him, he could just stay and be reassured by her presence that she was here and safe, alive-

And also it might distract him from his own apologies weighing down his own tongue like a poison, that he knew if he gave into in his current mood would just break the floodgates again and he didn't want to have that hanging over their reunion.

Yasha looks slightly rebuffed, but, if anything, grateful for how grounded Molly was. It makes her ache deep in her chest. Gods, she missed this. How easy this was.
The Nein were one thing. Beau was one thing. But Molly?
Molly had seen her at her worst; even after Obann, she had some semblance of control over herself. Zuala? Less so.

The denial of her apology makes her make a face, holding his to hers again by the chin, forehead to forehead.

"I have a lot to tell you." a deep breath. "But please. Forgive me. For me." And with no small amount of honesty, she asks again with the look on her face.

She could not ask the dead for her forgiveness. But he was not dead. So she would ask him twice now moreover.

They just fit together. They worked in some strange way that Molly had never really worried about beyond the fact that they did. A thing he'd missed terribly in the time he was here without her.

Gods but he was a mess without her.

He wanted again to insist there was nothing that needed forgiving, and she might see that familiar stubborn furrow of brows before he actually paused long enough to take in the sight of her. Expression easing with a soft sigh, because really how could he ever deny her anything?

"Alright. But only for you," He replied, a hand reaching to brush lightly along her forehead and through her hair. "I forgive you. I'll always forgive you, you know that. It's what we do."

They protected each other, loved each other, forgave each other. Always and forever, as far as Molly was concerned.

It's what we do. We forgive each other.

A long moment passes, and at his words, she can't, she cannot help but be haunted by the image of Beau, pinned by herself to the marble floors of the temple by her own hand, consumed with a rage that wasn't her own, and for a moment, it is all too much again. Yasha holds him with another squeeze close to herself and nods.

That's what she wanted, right? Forgiveness.

"Thank you." she weakly croaks out. His hands pass through her hair, white again, near the roots, then cascading into a sea of inky black, back into gray white, making her growth evident and palpable, unlike her friends.

"Let's get real drinks. And talk. Yeah?"

Molly was getting the sense that there was something else underlying that tension. Something that he wasn't privy to, and he wanted desperately to know what it was, to be able to help smooth away whatever rough raw edges were there to hurt his friend. But... Yasha would tell him when she was ready. He might play at being pushy but at the same time would never actually press where he wasn't wanted.

"That sounds perfect." He hums in agreement, noticing that shift to her hair, the clean white and the black, a sure sign that things had changed for his dearest companion while he'd been...

Well.

And tellingly enough he wasn't making to release his grasp on her just yet. If Yasha didn't want to wait for him to finally be able to bring himself to let go of her, then she was just going to have to heft his skinny ass around.

Yasha eventually brings herself to part from him, if only to wipe the tears from her face that kept wanting to fall. Swiping them away with the backs of her hands, she's only gone from him for a second---then returns for another solid hug. A happier one this time, not as somber or relieved, but genuinely radiating joy.

"Well. I don't know what inns here look like. But I guess we should find one if we want to drink." she says offhand, before pulling away again to look at Molly and really take in the sheer difference between him and Lucien.

"What do you want to hear about first?"

Oh no, he sees those tears. And to distract from the ones clinging to lashes on him he'll just be kissing each cheek and then her forehead before he's brought in for another hug that he returns enthusiastically, trying to squeeze her with every scrap of emotion he felt. ~~as well as his puny 10 strength~~

"I know just the place," As if that was any surprise. "Run by a delightful pirate captain, has some great drinks and wonderful stories."

But if they were supposed to be drinking they'd have to go to the drinks, so he'll reluctantly draw back to lead the way, though keeping his grasp on Yasha's hand.

"Tell me something fun." He was sure there were plenty of painful stories to hear, but he couldn't bear that just yet, not out in public. They could save the harder tales for back at his apartment where there would be no prying eyes for reactions.

Yasha has to comb through it all, and picks out her favorite moments---things she knew he'd be thrilled to hear while they walked.

"Jester tricked a powerful bog witch with a stale cupcake." That's it. That's the only context she's giving for now as she turns to walk with him, hand most certainly not leaving his.

"I went on a date. With Beau. A couple of days ago." she adds, matter of factly. "Veth---" Veth. "Nott isn't Nott. She's Veth. And she has a family." There was a lot there to unpack, even the fun stuff.

Damn straight her hand isn't leaving his. That's his hand now, he's licked it that's the rule.

Okay well he hasn't licked it ~~this time~~ but it's still his.

And he's glad to hear her coming up with several things. It relieves him that good things were happening for his friends, for Yasha and from the sounds of things, the Nein managed to pull through the mess with the Shepherds without him.

"Okay all three of those sound like a heck of a story on their own," He mused as he looked over the area. Things moved, and while the Scarlet Hooyim was generally found in the same basic area, on occasion it was on a different part of the block. But soon enough he spotted the tavern, tail flicking as his guidance became a bit more purposeful. "But you and Beau? Here I can't even give her the shovel talk, I feel positively robbed."

The mention of Molly shovel talking Beau, that makes her smile. Shaking her head again, her tone remains even, and she actually does take her hand away from his. It's not for long though; instead it comes around his shoulder.

"They really are. But. You wouldn't have needed to." she says somberly. "She's hard enough on herself for the both of us. And she knows." A beat passes before she adds.

"She got a tattoo, too. For you."

He can't help the faint jump to his heartbeat as her hand slips from his. An irrational but real fear there that he'd turn his head and find her gone, that she'd never been there at all, it was all in his head-

But then her arm was around his shoulders, and he shoved the fears down again under a grin as he just happily wedged himself in against her side, an arm slinging easily around her waist.

"You're going to have to give me details, you realize." He mused as they headed into the tavern, Molly choosing one of the tables where the barrel seats had a heavy-looking plank over them so that he could continue to remain glued to Yasha's side while they sat and drank. Maybe a little clingy but he felt he was forgiven for now.

"She did?" His tone was softened at that, gaze flicking over to Yasha at the idea. "Well how about that... Beau is just full of surprises."

Clingy, as though that were a problem for her. She's happy to let him take up as much of her space as he liked, plagued by the same fear: that he'd disappear and that this wonderful place was all just...some kind of mean dream.

"Details about what, how the date went, or why you don't have to give her the talk?" she asks, with a degree of clipped mirth. The hand over his shoulders grazes over the nape of his neck, textured with scars and hair and jacket, but there none the less.

"She did. This one." she adds just as softly. "...Losing you changed everyone."

As if Molly wasn't clingy at the best of times. Just draping against her side as they sat, snuggling right under her arm with a soft hum.

"Everything!" The tiefling exclaimed, pausing only when a barmaid came around to order them drinks. He had no clue what kind they were, but who better to try new things with? "You know how I love gossip."

And he's just going to relax utterly under that light touch, head tilting to rest with a thump against her. "I... didn't realize."

He didn't like the idea of the others hurting because he was gone, but there was still that part of him that was in some way relieved that he'd had some sort of effect. That he'd mattered to people, was real in some way he'd always feared would be beyond his grasp.

Yasha stammers for a moment at the sheer selection, asking for something eventually, that was what everyone else seemed to like.
Molly relaxing like ~~Frumpkin~~ a cat against her is a nice feeling, secure in a way she didn't know she needed. That she'd only just had again, recently. Who knew, she thought, that she was so touch starved?

Her hand gently pets the back of his head, looking down, making sure it was him, always, while she did.

"Mm. Caleb, too, even. And Veth. Beau...likes to leave things better than we found them. I wonder who that sounds like."

Molly was absolutely touch-starved at the moment, all but melting for that hand against his hair though it was in that subtle way of his that accompanied those true things, emotions he usually hid behind smiles and sass. But not with Yasha. If anyone got truth from him, it was her.

"Sounds like she took advice from a right idealistic asshole." He replied, though there was that hitch of emotion there, glad to hear it. Glad that he'd helped them in some way.

"I think she did, yeah." she jokes back at him, giving another fond squeeze. Yasha can tell he's having a hard time with it already, so she drops it and reverts back to a previous topic.

She tells him everything she can remember. The island of Vokodo. Their new friend, Caduceus and his grove. Veth, and her son (of whom she was certain he would've loved) and her husband. Essek, the drow Shadowhand whom they'd been betrayed by ommission by before they'd even met---and yet, he'd helped them in all manner that he could, and loved his new friends.
Jester's mother and father, and Caleb's wonderful tower.

"There's a lot of you in there, actually." she adds, on her second drink. "Especially in the library."

Another reason he so easily relaxed his guard with Yasha- she was apt at noticing when not to push at those real things. When to let the artifice stand instead.

And he listened intently to what she said. Drank in the stories of what she and the others had been getting up to, people he missed dearly. But that was the way of bonding with others. It hurt all the more when they were gone, but at least he could take heart that they weren't gone in any bad way, that they were living life in their delightfully chaotic way even without him there. It was the best he could hope for.

"The room I'd have the least reason to be in, you mean?" Molly teased lightly for all it wasn't entirely true, a faint flush darkening his cheeks.

Loki has had a busy week, and this is the first time in a while where he has been out in the Plaza alone, without children or friends or lovers at his side. He used to be so much more solitary than he is now, and some days he misses it. Mischief is best located alone.

Then again, if he really didn't want to talk to anyone, he wouldn't walk up to the snack carts and risk bumping into someone he knows, so maybe he's just mellowing in his old age. He is dressed like someone with minimal need to travel: there is a linen tunic over boots and trousers, but no overcoat, cape or armor. His hair is braided back and tied with what appears to be a pastel rainbow ribbon, though, with sparkles woven through it.

The look of this woman reminds him a little of Brunnhilde, and a little more of the clans in Midgard where he and Thor used to be most welcome, centuries ago. He gives her a sidelong glance. "Well, I like my coffee like I like my men," he begins reflexively, then hesitates.

ground up and in the freezer--
sliding off the roof of my car as I back out of the driveway--
tied in a burlap sack and dragged through Colombia on the back of a donkey--

Perhaps he shouldn't make those jokes with a total stranger who may not be from the right time period to appreciate them. "Actually, I don't think I've ever met coffee I didn't like," he muses. Well, that's going to paint a definite picture of him.

"But if you prefer a smooth coffee that doesn't need sugar to cut the acidity, the bakery across the way makes a perfect Swedish egg coffee."

((ooc: hello! I am woefully behind on tags and will also be slow, but I wanted in on this.))

Yasha was drawn to the stranger thanks to his familiar choice in clothing, so like attracted like. She gingerly listens, looking to and from the person to the cart menu and back, and his answer makes her smile just a little bit.

Maybe she should hold onto her own joke for now.

Maybe not.

"Well. The way you make it sound...if coffee is all that comparable to men, then maybe I should skip it altogether for something more familiar."

She sounds like she's meant that seriously, until she casts her own sidelong glance back his way.

"Egg? In a coffee? That doesn't sound...much better, actually."

Loki blinks at her, then breaks into a small grin. "Tea is also a noble beverage, and one I enjoy from time to time, as well."

He's not always upbeat and whimsical, by a long shot, but he's more likely to stay that way when met with the same attitude. In any case, he appreciates her point.

"It's not quite how it sounds," he explains, regarding egg coffee. "The egg is mixed with the grounds until wet, sometimes with the shell, and then it's brewed and the grounds are separated from the liquid. You're not really consuming the egg, it's just part of the brewing process."

"But if you're not feeling that adventurous, it's hard to go wrong with Hazelnut." There's a faint smile on his face now. "This is funny, the last conversation I had with my brother about coffee went something like this. I was trying to convince him to try butter in it."

"Tea I am more familiar with." she says graciously, a fond smile returning to her face as she remembers her and Caduceus sharing drinks he'd made carefully, precisely. The memory of the Grove floods back to her mind, and for a moment, Yasha is not there.

At the mention of butter and other things in coffee, her expression grows more perplexed.

"Hazelnut sounds good, actually. If it's not sweet..." she thinks out loud. Butter sounded strange but not as strange as egg.

"Butter? Doesn't that just make it oily?"

He hesitates a moment, because that lost-in-thought look can signify nostalgia, or it can signify a more serious sort of flashback, and in either case it's better not to disturb the thinker if you want to remain on good terms with them. When she responds to him once more, he's reassured, though, and his amusement returns.

"Hazelnut is delicious if sweetened, but by itself it has a smooth, rich flavor with earthy undertones."

He gives a shrug. "Everything is subjective, but you have to remember that real butter is basically just churned milkfat. It's like cream, but more so. Only you do have to be careful not to use salted butter. Even if you don't care for sweet coffee, I can't imagine most would enjoy salty coffee."

"Thor wasn't convinced, though, I don't think."

"Favourite? Huh. Well, it would have to be really strong coffee flavoured coffee. The really roasty type that is full of caffeine to get you through a sixteen hour night shift. Not really into the sweet stuff myself."

Tony lived off the stuff now that he had given up booze. It helped him through the day and night when he was working on something in his workshop. His hours could be brutal since he was a workaholic. Everyone knew this, especially those close to him. The engineer loved keeping himself awake with black coffee. Even more so that he had his fancy AI-infused flask with him now, which he is now shaking in front of the stranger's face.

"Got myself a fancy coffee mug which talks to me when I need a top up. Handy, huh?"

A gift from the devil.

Yasha is immediately perplexed, something about the caffiene/staying awake with it, she didn't entirely comprehend, but the gentleman seemed rather confident in his tastes.
She looks back to the menu with a frown.

"Are they all...brewed to keep you awake? I know some teas keep me awake, I imagine it's like that, that there might be kinds to...prevent that. I need to sleep eventually."

"Most of them? Yeah. Unless you're caffeine intolerant. Then you can have a coffee that's got no caffeine in it so you're not bouncing off the walls."

Tony offered her a smile. Was he being helpful? He hoped he was. The man had been throwing mugs of the stuff down his gullet for well over seven or so years now. At least. Ever since he went sober. Was it ten years? It felt like it.

"If you want to sleep? Try herbal teas. They're a hell of a lot better, especially the green ones and chamomile ones. Herbal stuff."

He got into the health thing and Pepper helped him back when he was on Earth.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

and in the laylines of stained glass i wondered (spoilers potentially)

/SCREAMING FOREVER

oh, for me???

UM YES ABSOLUTELY

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

spoilers in this bitch, sheeeesh

ALSO MANY FEELINGS

Re: ALSO MANY FEELINGS

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject