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saphirered · 2 years

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Hi! Hello! Greetings! Loved your Briarwood!Reader fix can I request a part 2 of that? Thanks!

I got carried away in the angst again but here it is! 😘

Night has fallen but the doomed dinner still is an hour or two away. You have another opportunity to sneak away. The entire way to the rebel hideout you find yourself twisting those damned chainless shackles around your wrists, feeling that phantom tug calling you back to your parents. You don’t know why you decided to go after all. ‘Later’ was not exactly time constrictive. You talked yourself into believing if you were reminded on why you’ve been doing what you’ve been doing for years, then your choice might be easier, or maybe you’d be reminded they don’t really need you anymore, not now Vox Machina is here. Is your task done? Not yet. Not quite yet. Shrouded in layers and a cloak you move through shadows, avoiding eyes of all creatures but those who stare into the shadows themselves, live within them until you reach your destination.

Resting in the room so generously provided by the rebels would be a blessing considering it is relatively safe and comfortable compared to what’s on the other side of the door, if not for the company in close quarters. Too many people. Too little a space. Claustrophobic almost. But there is a saviour. A saviour that Percy can’t seem to shake. Were he a man of faith he might have deemed your fates intwined but he is not. It’s simple matter of circumstance and of course his invitation to speak with you privately. A good excuse to leave the less than spacious room at last. The knock of the door couldn’t come a moment too soon. It’s Vax who opens the door, the rogue quick on his feet as ever but Percy is not far behind.

“Hello there.” Vax greets and gently guides you inside but you stay close to the door as you lower your hood. “Percy has told us next to nothing about you and I speak for all of us when I say we are excited to get to know you better.” He winks, hoping to ease out some embarrassing stories from Percy’s past. All Percy let shine through from what little they got from him was that the two of you were close and you took care of him, helped him escape when the Briarwoods murdered his family.

“We know your name, well what Percy calls you that is but where are you from? Family? Friends? Interests or hobbies?” The gnome dressed in purple leans in as if looking for a juicy bit of gossip, or maybe a nice ass. You might just have both. He’ll be satisfied with either. Percy rolls his eyes. Scanlan will always be Scanlan. He just hopes you wouldn’t lower yourself to the gnome’s level, no pun intended. Nevermind the burning ache within his chest at the thought of the gnome charming his way into your bed. Is that a hint of jealousy? No. He’s above some petty jealousy. Though, that utterly indifferent expression that gives nothing away directed at Scanlan leaves Percy feel a bit more confident.

“Wildemount. You’ve met them. No real close connections of any kind until this one showed up, status still to be seen.” You raise an eyebrow at Percy as if to say; ‘lets go’. “As for hobbies and interests? Does sparking rebellion and constantly undermining my cursed family and disgracing their legacy count?” There’s a moment of silence as Percy is at your side, ready to leave. In this moment of silence the pieces are put together and realisation drops. Instantly some reach for their weapons. Percy raises his hand.

“There’ll be no need for that. We can trust them. More than anyone in this entire bloody city.” Percy defends you, taking up a place where you’ve got some cover behind him but you make it a point not to hide. These people can’t bring you anything you fear, but they don’t know that. Though, you’ll face come what may.

“How can you be so sure? They’re a Briarwood, Percy! You saw what they did to Uriel. You’ve seen the state of this city! How can you trust them.” Vex argues, arrow drawn.

“You’ll just have to trust my judgement on this one. Now if you’ll excuse us.” Percy leaves no room for argument but they still protest despite that. That’s when you step in front of him.

“I don’t expect you to trust me, let alone offer me friendship. All I ask is you trust my work, let it speak for itself. I can’t alleviate your worries until actions prove them to you so I will not waste anyone’s time trying to do so.” You’re not here to make friends. You won’t pretend to be. You’re here to talk to Percy. You’re here to make your bloody decision and finally pick a side; the people or your own hide. You don’t get a reply and you don’t expect one either. You just feel eyes following you as Percy pulls you out into the hallway and begins directing you towards the exit. You let him.

Once outside you wander in silence. So much for talking. Perhaps neither of you have the courage to say the first words. Not after what happened in that room. Not while strolling around in the streets of something once good, now nothing but rubble; broken, just like the two of you. You both suffer the curse of the bright ones. Those who shine brightest often burn twice as quick. Your lives are set out through metaphors and perhaps the saddest truth of them all is that they describe your lives perfectly. You’re but wandering through shards of the past until something disturbs them and forces you into the shadows. One day you might have the courage to rebuild, use that hatred you wield for something other than destruction, turn it to creation instead.

You find yourselves in one of the abandoned buildings in hiding of the patrols and a moment away from the larger view of everything you’ve grown to loathe. Inside this building lay the remaining traces of the people that once called it their home. Tossed furniture and possessions, a cloak over the back of a chair, some shoes by the cold hearth, a plate with food long since rotten and eaten by the vermin. All is covered in a thick layer of dust but it suffices the privacy you need and wouldn’t get with other company around. Percy pulls up his nose at the rotten remains of the meal, picking up the dust covered fork at the side and fiddling with it as he moves about. Neither of you have spoken a word. Neither broken the silence. Unsure where to start. It’s in that doubt, and Percy’s own distraction you’re the one taking the first move. You take the fork from his hand, toss it onto the table rather unceremoniously and wrap your arms around his middle, pulling yourself against him in an embrace. He’s caught off guard and it takes him a moment to process what just happened before he wraps his arms around you in return.

There’s a million reasons why. That’s what his mind concludes trying to justify you seeking comfort in him rather than acknowledging a deeper connection between the two of you that’s been left unresolved, and unexplored when you were younger. While something deep within tries to deny it, Percy knows, this is kindness, this is compassion, this is love and affection, this is hope and desperation. Eventually you pull back and separate, with a ragged breath wiping furiously at your cheeks. Your eyes are slightly bloodshot. Percy can’t imagine how long you’d have gone without any of that true affection, the one that doesn’t make your skin crawl. He always had his sister, he always had you and after you were gone he could somewhat substitute that void you left with others but you did not have these options. You were stuck, forced to play perfect child, though by the looks of it, failing to live up to these expectations came with punishments of their own; your own torture, you’d never be able to escape, not like he did, and without the power to gain your freedom on your own.

That’s why you did it, isn’t it? You joined the resistance to stand a fighting chance, every day of your life as risky as the next. You’re looking for your own salvation, absolving yourself of the condemnation the sacrifices for your own freedom would bring. You’re two sides of the same coin, however much he might wish circumstances were different. You’re good, you’re kind and you’re so tainted by the life you were forced into, so much so your own morals became muddled and so faded, for the sake of survival. It’s a surprise you’ve lasted this long. He’d never have the strength. You’ve always been stronger than him. Or maybe you’re not. Maybe you just know how to patch yourself up each time you get knocked down. Each time you fight for your life you assure your own survival. So why is there a sense of desperation and conflict within you?

“You came back.” Your voice cracks as you hold onto Percy’s shoulders, afraid he might fade and this might just be some torturous illusion or twisted figment of imagination, finally driven mad.

“I still have to offer fate a guiding hand when dealing what those who wronged us deserve.” Pompous prick, you think even though the words dignify the curling of your lips. A brief moment where the reality and gravity of that statement falls away, however short it may be but then that smile turns to a frown followed by a sigh, and you looking away, hands falling from Percy’s shoulders as you wrap your arms around yourself.

“Percival-“ You begin but Percy stops you.

“Believe me when I say, I’ve already been hounded enough and I don’t need more arguing, especially not from you.” There’s a hint of desperation in his voice, the begging for something familiar, yet free of burdens. You close your eyes, and sigh. What you wouldn’t do for a sense of normalcy, ignoring the real world, ignoring where you’re standing or the existence of the lives you’ll have to return to, responsibilities you’ll have to face, and choices you’ll have to make. But that is not a life either of you have. You never will, no matter how far you run it will always follow you. You will never be granted the gift of normalcy, not even when your enemies are six feet under.

“I’m not here to argue with you, Percy. I know well enough that your mind is not one to be changed and your choices are your own.” Percy breathes a thank you. “You are as stubborn as a mule.” He had that one coming didn’t he? At least he can see the humour in it. He won’t admit it out loud and maybe that specific wording is-lacking he is stubborn and knows it. Were you anyone else he might have argued for the sake of his integrity, or just to prove a point.

“Then why are you here? If I may be so bold.” He raises an eyebrow waiting for your answer and your face turns to that familiar indifference, though you let the cracks show you’re not truly facing him like you would the wolves in this place.

“I live here.” You deadpan.

“Very funny.” He retorts sarcastically. “You know what I meant.” The faintest of smiles crosses his features and yours follows suit.

“Is that sarcasm I hear, Lord Percival? That’s not very becoming of someone of your status, is it?” You offer a mocking bow. Despite the specific wording striking a chord that is quickly discarded Percy steps up and adjusts your bow, following the motions with you to make it more suited for the court he once attended.

“Sarcasm is the wit of any noble and your footwork is horrendous. I expected your mother to have instilled some values of the nobility in you.” You bow again, this time adjusted before you straighten again, tilting your head. You know those words should have risen something within you but they don’t they just rise that sense of warmth, and familiarity. For the first time in a long time you feel good, like you’re not constantly drowning.

“Then you might be appalled at my next choice of words; she can go screw herself for all I care.” That earns you a laugh. It’s been an eternity since you’ve heard a proper laugh not rooted in pain or malice.

“I missed this, Percy. I missed you.” You admit. Percy might have quipped back about you admitting you must have grown fond of him and truly becoming the rebel you were always meant to be but with the silence that follows your statement it hardly seems appropriate. You’re being vulnerable like once upon a time he was too. So the roles truly have switched. You’re the prisoner now but might he be your saviour? He won’t assume, even if that faint spark of good within his heart wishes nothing more than to be that what you had been for him.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” Percy whispers as he takes your hand, lacing your fingers together searching for that familiar contact, stroking his thumb over the back of it like you had done for him a thousand times before. A reminiscing shadow of a smile crosses your features, though it is hinted with pain as you stare at your interlocked fingers. You give his palm a light squeeze.

“You might not have, did these cursed things not work.” You turn your wrist to show him the heavy bracelets more reminiscent of shackles the closer attention he pays. “Controlling me wasn’t good enough. That little parlour trick is not fool proof, and might not last. My father can't exactly rely on his victim slipping from control just telling him they’re regaining their freedom of mind. As I managed to lie to them before, they couldn’t be certain with me and they couldn’t risk me becoming a liability just yet. They still need me for something but they’ve been holding back, keep me on a need to know basis only. Mother still blames you for corrupting me and my straying from their path.”

“Why do I feel there’s more to this than you’re telling me?”

“Because there is. I won’t lie to you.” You sigh. “Mother informed me that tonight, at dinner they might just take these chains off for good. Apparently I’ve been on my best behaviour and my ‘talent should not be wasted now it might be useful in what is to come’. I don’t trust the reasonings for a second but they are sincere in offering my freedom.”

“Which happens to coincide with the rescue mission of tonight… And you cannot be in two places at once.” You shake your head. You wish you could but you can’t.

“I don’t know what to do, Percy but I have to make a choice.” Somewhat crestfallen Percy puts aside his desire to tell you to stay with him and his friends, see this through but you’re being offered your own shot at freedom on a silver platter. If he were in your shoes he’d have chosen certainty over the sliver of a possibility. He knows he will kill your parents along with those who aided them, or he’ll die trying. Even for those who help him, they know there’s no true certainty they’ll make it out alive either. Even if they save Archie, that’s just a battle. Not the war. But then again, why should you put your life on the line? It’s not your fight… maybe it’s his after all.

“Claim your freedom.” Percy states and your eyes shoot up towards his in shock. That was not the kind of answer you expected. “You’ve been stuck for years. If this is your chance to escape then take it. Live to fight another day. One of us has to.”

“You truly have changed, haven’t you? No terrified boy anymore.”

“Don’t deflect. It doesn’t suit you.” You’d argue differently. “You’ve stayed behind and from what I’ve been told you have been helping the people of Whitestone. You’ve already given enough. Now it’s someone else’ turn to return the favour.” His turn, Percy thinks. It’s his turn to step up now. He might not want to lead, nor does he plan to, that hasn’t changed but he will repay the sacrifices you’ve made in his name. Your mind tells you to argue, trying to counter like it does every step of the way sending you into inner turmoil until you can’t avoid it anymore, but you don’t let it. Percy quells the inner doubt. He’s right. He’s the only voice in this place, perhaps even the world you’d put your trust in blindly.

“Okay.” You nod letting the reality of your decision sink in. “Tell Archie I said hello and I’m sorry. Make sure he raises hell on my behalf.” You’d been caring for the dwarf through his imprisonment under the guise of getting the rebel leader to talk and counter the ways others failed. You can’t help but notice a brief sliver of jealousy pass through Percy.

“I will raise hell on your behalf.” You raise an eyebrow. He clears his throat. “We all will.” Percy quickly adds as you squeeze his hand and step closer until you’re toe to toe. There it is again, that feeling of ease and comfort and warmth in the dead of winter. It seems Percy feels it too as he moulds into your grasp the moment your fingers slide across his cheek and cup the side of his face.

“I’ll hold you to it. But be wary. Vengeance is a path of poison. Don’t let it consume you.” You know your words will do little to change anything that might take place but at least you spoke them.

“How poetic of you? Can I expect a copy of your book of wisdoms once you get the freedom to write it?” You laugh and those embers in his stomach turn to flames.

“First print, signed and all. I promise.” The smiles falter slightly and expressions grow more serious. “I mean it, Percy. It’s not worth it if you allow yourself to be your own undoing. You have your friends, your family. They need you to live. I need you to live. I won’t ask you to make a promise you can’t keep so instead I’ll just ask you to try. This is the price I ask for whatever favours you might have owed me.”

You wait but Percy doesn’t have the heart to answer you so instead he takes your hand from his cheek and brings it to his lips the way he had all those years ago, placing a light kiss on your knuckles instead. For someone who cares little wether people like him or not, outside of regarding him as a well mannered respectable man, he cannot bring himself to tell you how much he’s condemned himself already. There’s no way back for him. It’s too much to unpack and with not knowing where you’ll go after, if he’ll ever even see you again, he’d rather not taint your memory of him. Remember him for the boy you knew, the man he grew into and the heart he’s held for you, instead of the man who sold his soul for vengeance, set himself on a path of rage and ruin, one who would pay any price to achieve what he desires most, even if that means he loses himself in the process; a willing sacrifice. He’d rather you remember him for who he was, not what he will become, has become.

Percy never felt any regret for his choices. Not until now. Not until he looked into your eyes and saw them full of life but tainted by pain and horrors. He never regretted it because he never had anything of old to return to. Sure he made new friends but in the end he’d be willing to part with them to uphold his part of the bargain. He’d be fine with his blood be spilled to end the vicious cycle of death and ruin, end a reign of terror. It’s in these moments he finds himself wishing desperately you’d returned to his life or remained in it because he can’t begin to imagine how different his life would have been if you had been there to keep him on the right path. He got lost in the dark without his saviour to light the path and lead the way out of darkness. Instead he embraced it and sought for other light, but those dancing shadows came from flame and brimstone, not radiance. He longs for that warmth like the sun, but here you are, leaving once more. Percy is not ready to say goodbye.

“You have to go soon. You’ve got a hero to play after all.” You break the silence and Percy’s train of thought but after there is only silence; taking in each other’s presence, ingraining it into memory. Wether it is the icy wind blowing through the broken windows or something else entirely you both feel the cold run through you and instinctively seek that warmth. Familiar-no. Home. A reminder of home. Warmth like a hearth. Comfort like found only in another person. If this is it, wallow in that warmth before it disappears. Slowly leaning in, neither of you know if it is because of hesitancy of your own, or giving the other the opportunity to step away, say this is wrong and you shouldn’t, shouldn’t complicate things or distract. Neither of you do and so your lips meet. While the kiss is chaste rooted more in emotion and that indescribable longing for the company only you can offer each other, it weighs heavy with burden. It feels like a goodbye and then you pull away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.” Percy breathes as you snort.

“Is it too late to say I’d have let you?”

“A little. Could have said so earlier but drama and conflict make for good motivation.”

“Well then, need I ask you to kiss me or are you going to wait until the world comes falling down again?” That earns you a chuckle and a light peck to your lips. You pout, somewhat disappointed with the limited contact.

“Let’s see where we go. We still have some time. Granted, it might be less than desired but I’m sure we can be creative, if you are willing that is.” Mischief gleams in your eyes as you go to lean in, halting but an inch away as you wrap your arms around Percy’s neck.

“That sounds like a promise.” You muse.

“Because it is.” And with that you close the distance. This kiss while fuelled with the emotions of the years past, from your reunion and the uncertainty of what may come, is loving and warm. The dead of winter holds no candle to your flame. The drums of war could be drowned out by by the melody of your stories intertwining and for just those moments the weight of the world disappears. You’re not prisoners. You’re not saviours. You’re home with each other.

#critical role x reader #vox machina x reader #percy x reader #percival x reader #critrole x reader #critical role fanfic #critical role fanfiction #critical role imagine #percival fredrickstein von musel de rolo iii #percy de rolo #vox machina #tlovm x reader #legend of vox machina #percy de rolo x reader #percival de rolo x reader

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nellie-elizabeth · 2 years

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The Legend of Vox Machina: Scanbo (1x07)

Ahhh god, this show just keeps getting better and better.

Cons:

Most of my "cons" in this one are going to be small, mostly nitpicks. I really loved Percy's flashback sequence where he talks about having the dream of making a gun, but I wish there had been a bit more clarity earlier in the season that nobody else in this world has guns, that this is a Percy-specific weapon that he invented. I can imagine a newcomer to the story being confused by that element, where everyone is suddenly like "what is a gun, though?" when nobody has seemed confused by it before.

On a personal preference note, there were a couple Scanlan jokes that I didn't appreciate this week... that weird incest joke at the beginning about Percy and Cass? Like, why? I did like that Vex and Vax told him off in unison, showing that they're united even after their little spat over Keyleth which I'll discuss in a minute. Also, I know there was a lot of poop humor in the campaign, but I didn't literally need to see Duke Vedmire's shit... I'm not saying these are real problems with the episode, just jokes I was unimpressed by.

And this is a nitpick, it really is, but during the truly excellent Scanbo sequence, Scanlan escapes to the roof and then is "trapped" up there. Later, he uses Scanlan's Hand to beat up Vedmire and escape, which looks cool, it just kind of annoyed me that he didn't think of using it earlier when he was stuck on the roof. It was the first thing I thought of, and I felt like it was contrived that he didn't do the obvious thing to get away.

Pros:

Literally this whole episode was amazing, though, and the two that followed it are equally strong... god, this show is something else.

Starting the episode with a Percy and Cassandra flashback was such a smart thing to do. Establishing Professor Anders, and the bond between the siblings, makes everything about the following sequences with Anders hit all the harder. It works better than the Stonefell episode, honestly, because we get a little more setup and time to ruminate in who this man was and why Percy would have him on his List. Plus young Percy and Cassandra are so stinking cute.

I'm going to make a brief confession here, which is that I've always been something of a Perc'ildan shipper. Don't get me wrong, I love the canon ships, but Vax and Percy have an incredibly rich and complex friendship over the course of the stream, and when I was thinking of all the things I probably wouldn't get to see play out in the animated show for lack of time and significance, I was sure that Vax and Percy moments wouldn't make the cut. But these three episodes are rife with amazing moments for these two, which gives me so much hope that their unique relationship will get time to shine in later seasons, when Certain Things occur. (If you know you know.) In this episode, we start off the story proper after the flashback with Vax being super mad at Percy, threatening to kill him if he ever points his gun at any of them ever again. I love how furious he is, worked up and rightfully alarmed, but at no point does he run off and leave Percy to his fate, and as we'll see over the next couple episodes, he's willing to die fighting by the side of my friend. This is the good shit, y'all.

And despite my small point above, I really did love Percy's backstory of creating the gun. Great imagery, such an anime backstory vibe, really upping the stakes and helping to explain the true extent of how dark Percy is willing to go for the sake of his revenge. I love how he says that he's been inspired before, so why does it matter that it came to him in a weird creepy dream? He's so clearly repressing things, so clearly in denial, and the group can see it right in front of their eyes but it's hard to actually do anything about it. I didn't catch it the first time around, but when he's talking about the name on each chamber of his gun: Stonefell, Anders, Delilah, Sylas, and Anna, Scanlan asks about the sixth barrel, and the shadow on the wall behind Percy is pointing the gun at his own head. Those who know the original campaign might be a bit baffled since this isn't exactly the answer that Matt and Taliesin had in mind for that last barrel, but it was a fucking amazing and spooky image that solidifies the intensity and darkness of this story all the more.

Keyleth and the Sun Tree! What an amazing subplot we're seeing, which we know will have a great payoff by the end. The visual of the tree weakened by necrotic decay, the beautiful music of the Sun Tree trying to communicate with Kiki... all of it was great. Then of course she accidentally starts a fire, setting Vex off, and Vax rushes to defend her... I absolutely love all the points of strain we're seeing between the various members of the group. It's like Whitestone and the stress of their situation is bringing everything to the surface. Vex and Vax's codependency, Keyleth and Vax's romance, so many little aspects that can be revealed in between the drive of the main story. I loved that shot of the twins glaring at each other, before Archie cuts in and brings the focus back to the task at hand.

This is a Scanlan Shorthalt-centric episode, and by god, I love this horny little gnome with all my heart. I've talked a lot already about how the Whitestone arc was when the streaming show went from "good" to "holy shit this is amazing", and a lot of that was the darkness of the story-line, a lot of that was Taliesin Jaffe pulling out the fucking indescribably good RP. But then there's Scanbo, a moment I will never forget watching for the first time with my jaw dropped in disbelief. "I'm going to kill everyone in this mu'fucking house," Sam Riegel said, and he fucking did it. So good. And this episode managed to capture so much of what I loved in the original, and add some character development stakes to it that weren't there before.

We start with Scanlan trying to convince the group of his value, while the others are skeptical. Grog laughs, Vax says he'll go instead, Vex is dismissive... but Scanlan insists. He's not the stabby guy who charges in and kills the villains. He's loud, he's annoying, he's built to be a distraction, and right now they need a distraction to draw guards away from Anders and save Cass. This sets up the stakes for his own individual arc, and also helps to solidify his position in the group as somewhat the damsel in distress: he's super skilled in his special areas, but he's not meant to be the one in the thick of things, which is why he's always in such terrible mortal peril whenever an enemy actually gets a hit on him. It makes you nervous for what's going to happen when Scanlan goes on his solo mission, but also excited to see the chaos. And oh boy, the chaos....

Scanlan sing-narrating his break-in to Duke Vedmire's place, anxious but determined... Scanlan sneaking in to find Vedmire on the toilet... just, y'all, the whole Scanbo sequence... they managed to capture the chaos and hilarity of that part in the show in a way I never would have imagined. The guards playing D&D, the misty step potion, shrinking potion, and then FIRE BREATH potion, then the scroll that was set up back in episode five, then TRICERATOPS SCANLAN LET'S GOOOO. Fire everywhere, Scanlan on a rampage, then up on the roof, bloodied and pinned down, flipping Vedmire off, dueling Vedmire with Scanlan's hand... lightning from his dick...

I'm sorry, it's just iconic. Legendary. Scanlan Shorthalt, everyone. What a guy. Whatever else you can say about the dude, he's not lacking for self-confidence, and it pays off in a big way.

Meanwhile the absolute chaos of Scanlan's scenes are cut through with the rest of the gang waiting with the resistance back in the hideout. I can't believe this, but Vex and Scanlan's relationship has really become a highlight of the season for me. She's so worried about him, and she and Percy have this wonderful moment where Percy is talking about what an annoying nuisance Cassandra always was when they were kids, and Vex says she sounds like Scanlan. What a perfect tender little moment. Also, Vex calling Percy "darling" gets me every goddamn time. Just the greatest. I know this essentially goes without saying at this point, but the voice acting in this show is so good. I get distracted, pulled completely in by their performances, but every once in a while I'm like... oh yeah, that's Laura Bailey and Taliesin Jaffe and they're so fucking good at their jobs. Yeesh.

So towards the end of the episode, Scanlan has set the house on fire, guards are rushing to Vedmire's aid, and it's go time for the rest of the crew. They break into Anders's house, come across some guards, Grog goes into a rage, and Percy chases after Anders. He finds him in his study, knife to Cassandra's throat... points a gun at him... and then Anders does it, he cuts Cass's throat and drops her to the floor, bleeding to death.

End of episode.

This is an adaptational change from the stream that I 100% approve of. In the original, Vax is the one to come across Cassandra with Anders's knife to her throat, and he rushes in and starts combat right away, knowing that saving Cass has to be a priority. He nearly dies for his trouble. It's some of my favorite stuff from the stream, to be honest, the whole Anders fight is just EPIC in every way in the original, but giving that moment to Percy is just narratively the right thing to do, and cuts some unnecessary Vax-related drama from the proceedings. I love that Percy has his gun pointed at Anders, a man on his List, and yet he says he'll consider letting him go if he releases Cassandra. He's probably full of shit, the vengeance inside of him probably wouldn't allow such a thing, but it speaks to how much Cass has become his priority even in the midst of his larger quest. What a cliffhanger, too! God, the hits just keep coming!

The pacing of this episode is break-neck in the best way, I was completely gripped in the momentum the whole way through, between Scanlan's chaos and the assault on Anders's home, which is going to break right into an amazing action sequence in the next installment. God, I really could not be more impressed with how they've adapted some of the most iconic stuff from the Briarwood arc in the stream. Just stunning, y'all.

9/10

#review #tlovm review #tlovm spoilers #tlovm #the legend of vox machina #critical role

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nochiquinn · 2 years

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legend of vox machina episode 7: scanbo OR it’s only comic relief until it stops being funny

I got so excited when I saw the title of this episode

all the reactors I've seen thought stonefell was anders on account of the weird cut/camera focus when percy was talking about them

yes your honor I would die for cassandra de rolo

she does sound moderately like a fable npc

mala: that was an assassination attempt

anders is built like a pear on a barbecue fork

like okay. he's not wrong about the baby de rolos being pampered b u t that's not THEIR fault. kids are never responsible for the situation they were born or brought into, only with what they do with it once they're old enough to develop agency. he's just lashing out at them bc they're easy targets. and papa de rolo is right, it's NOT his job, and if it's not an urgent "everything's gonna blow up if we don't do this" matter he shouldn't have kept pushing. also don't bitch about your students' parents in front of them, let alone directly TO them.

okay I'm done now we can continue

I did NOT see the nails holding keyleth's effigy's antlers in place until mica pointed it out and for the record: I hate it

"I assure you, I'm in control" press x to doubt

his hair is getting a lot fluffier/less coiffed as time goes on (good)

"if you turn that thing on any of us again, I will not hesitate, I will kill you"

imagine knowing what percy's guns can do, even if you don't know what they are, and seeing him use them brutally and mercilessly on two prone, helpless people in two days (never mind what they all knew stonefell was and what he did), and now he's leaking smoke and his eyes are black from corner to corner and he's pointing it at you. and if he'll point it at you, his teammate (you'd like to think friend), who won't he point it at? vex? keyleth? and the only way you know to stop him is to put him down.

there's gonna be a lot of meta/fic in these next few recaps and I refuse to apologize

this means he kept the de rolo crest buttons this whole time

I love how they visualized this. just this whole sequence with the hammers and the barrel clicking

how'd he get a forge tho

scanlan

mala pointed out this is how early scanlan deals with dark shit, is to make a joke out of it, but has no filter on when it's appropriate to say it out loud

pours one out for matthew mccoughnatree

this is a really nice sequence tho

when keyleth's ambition outstrips her control

"who's the sixth barrel for?" props to whoever it was caught percy's shadow

I wasn't sure ale would put out a fire instead of dousing it but it probably has a pretty low alcohol content compared to like vodka

it's like dousing a fire with natty light

vax actively countering vex instead of just sniping at her

"this is bigger than all your personal shite" I mean yes but I would like more of the personal shite

s c a n l a n

like he has one job and that's fucking with everyone but. scanlan.

can archie like. wipe his face. it wasn't bothering me until mala pointed it out.

venkman

"let. me. be. ANNOYING." huge tiktok audio potential

me: oh no is this a musical episode mala: it was threatened

this was INTENSELY unneccesary

CrItIcAl RoLe WaS nEvEr ThIs CrAsS

D&D GUARDS

I'm sorry, they're clearly playing bunions and flagons

blink? I assume?

"how would this ever help?" idk if you needed to get inside a dragon

nut check WITH the gauntlet

I remember the fire breath being much more controlled in the stream, I am probably remembering wrong.

scanlan: literally a thirteen year old

yes. YES. the triceratops is LOOSE.

doors: the only thing to stop a charging triceratops

"who let that sex-crazed gnome do this solo?" "uh...you?" "never listen to me again."

"excellent plan, vox machina" "I mean that is what we're known for" rank lies

"I was dead yesterday, remember? can only improve from here."

tbf the DOOR wasn't trapped. just the everything else.

I just love how bigby's scanlan's hand has been used in the show, much more versatile than I remember it being in the stream

(or it was just so ubiquitious in the stream I stopped appreciating it properly)

you have activated GrogRage™

"oh man, they are fucked now"

mala pointed out vex and keyleth still work together in battle, regardless of their personal squabbles. they can hate each other later when they're still alive.

(also probably helps that keyleth actually has no beef with vex, and is likely absolutely bewildered at the way vex has been treating her lately)

COCK LIGHTNING

no! double-tap! confirm the kill!

"good show, scanlan."

I legitimately loved vax running in ahead to find anders (and percy beating the shit out of him for it later) but this does make more narrative sense

"let her go and we can discuss a future where you're still breathing."

hey show what the fuck

hey show what the Fuck

#the legend of vox machina #lovmtag #critical role #spoilers #crititag #liveblog #reaction post

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mj-spooks · 2 years

Text

Okay this is apparently a thing so

Vox Machina, Episode 2: thoughts from someone who has never engaged with Critical Role beyond the bare minimum interaction w cosplaying friends and tumblr posts

- Sorry sorry I just. Cannot get over them having David “would blow away in a stiff breeze” Tennant voice this absolute unit of a General. That is. incredibly funny. to me. But also I... love him?

- “A storm’s blowing through tonight” with a knowing little grin DID I MANAGE TO, IN A SINGLE EPISODE, WITH VERY LITTLE SCREENTIME, DECIDE I LIKED A CHARACTER WHO IS SECRETLY A BAD GUY. AGAIN.

- In my defense! If I did! This time he’s voiced by David Tennant and I am. weak.

- I think you’re gonna need more soldiers there guys

- Yeah and through that whole thing, the general was MYSTERIOUSLY ABSENT. I’m right aren’t I. It’s okay show you can tell me now.

- And oh look he survived with barely a scratch even tho last we saw him he went into his tent and the whole camp was burned. I’m calling it I can’t help it guys I love betrayers and mutineers

- We appreciate the enthusiasm Scanlan but y’all are. A bit late.

- Okay okay okay so. If I’m right. Are Krieg and Sketchy Dude in it together, or is Sketchy Dude a red herring. They want to handle the issue very different ways, is this just to keep the council fighting about it while the dragon kills shit? But also Sketchy Dude seems almost TOO sketchy and this was a ttrpg and we all know how DM’s LOVE to make That One Sketchy NPC to throw the players off.

- I want Sketchy Dude to be not actually sketchy.

- Everybody loves the bear

- “I didn’t catch anybody’s name” MOOD GROG. MOOD.

- Did I mention that I also love flamboyant dramatic merchants?

- So did Vex send Pike with Vax just to make sure her brother didn’t get distracted with the merchant because if they flirted any harder their clothes would literally just melt off

- “foreplay’s over” Pike you’re no fun

- Scanlan no

- “Dick for brains” seems generous tbh

- Grog you are a braver man than I, for I would certainly not partake in any ale that Scanlan had thrown himself into

- Okay no Sketchy Dude (I know his name is Fince now but he’s still Sketchy Dude) is almost definitely a red herring they are playing this Spooky Ooky thing WAY too hard.

- SCANLAN YOU BETTER GET GROG A SANDWICH

- okay guys crisis averted Grog got a sandwich

- Grog wanting a sandwich made me want a sandwich and so now I’m eating Real Food. The Legend of Vox Machina therefore is self-care thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

- the least surprising thing ever is Scanlan’s door-opening song clearly being a sex joke. But I posit the only reason it didn’t work is because that’s obviously the front door, dummy.

- Are all of his songs like this? I can’t decide if I want the answer to be yes or no. But I have a feeling the answer is probably “at least a vast majority” so I’m going to decide I want them to be so it’s funny and not annoying.

- okay THANK YOU VAX because I was LITERALLY over here like “aren’t you a rogue? don’t you pick locks?” bonus points for chekov’s toothpicks justifying the sandwich that Grog so rightly deserved.

- Ah yes, the extremely ostentatious painting hung in the foyer so everyone knows how big and important I am. Elegant.

- “Or maybe we all just go check the cellar” Look Vax not all of us can roll great all the time okay

- Scanlan’s insults would all be very slut-shame-y if he were not, in fact, the biggest slut of them all.

- CALLED IT

- Ah, predictable character preferences, you never let me down

- OSTENTATIOUS PAINTING IN THE FOYER HAS BEEN OVERSHADOWED BY SEXY NAKED LADY PAINTING OHMYGODS

- Percy why would you ever tell a guy like Grog “don’t touch anything” that is the quickest way to make him touch something

- Oh good, distracted by the one thing in the room he literally CAN’T touch and in fact it is of benefit for him to’ve been distracted by, WHICH HAPPENS TO BE THE SEXY NAKED LADY OF COURSE

- DRAGON LAIR DRAGON LAIR DRAGON LAIR

- Love how Scanlan is the very essence of Bard Stereotypes and Vax consistently is the opposite of Rogue Stereotypes. Sure, hand the random child a silver coin, be more level-headed and reliable than the rest of the party, barely react to the giant piles of dragon gold compared to the almost whole rest of your party.

- I mean he is still stealing shit but. He didn’t race down the hill and start swimming in it like the rest of them.

- Vex. I appreciate you figuring it out. But why did it take that long.

- “Did he just say we” YEAH PERC GLAD YOU CAUGHT THAT TOO BECAUSE I’M-

- MOTHER FUCKERS HE *IS* THE DRAGON? OKAY DIDN’T SEE THAT ONE COMING.

- They did not just cast David “disappears when he turns to the side” Tennant to play a Big Muscular Beefy General THEY CAST HIM AS A HUGE FUCKOFF DRAGON this is hilarious

- Brimscythe is a fucking bitchin’ dragon name

- “I’ve got a plan” “Another one?!” look technically the last plan did put you right where you need to be in order to fulfill your contract. so.

- lmaooo dragon too arrogant to realize IT WAS ALL A RUSE

- YEET THE ROGUE

- “I. WOULD LIKE. TO RAAAAAAAAAAAAGE!”

- “Is he dead” I mean his head is in two pieces down the middle but maybe smash it a bit more to be sure

- One of two things is about to happen, either they’re gonna race to get out and then go “SHIT WE DIDN’T TAKE ANY GOLD” or, exactly that same thing happens but one of the party members casually slips a coin purse somewhere the others can’t see it like Altivo at the end of The Road to El Dorado.

- Oh no did Vex just. Straight up have an armful of gold? Hilarious.

- Scanlan also had gold but DROPPED IT YOU IDIOT

- Honorary members of the council seems like a bit much

- NO GOLD ALSKDJFASDKLJFASDLKF

- I mean... you’ll have a house? That’s... not nothing, at least? And “protectors” implies future work which implies pay? I assume?

- “Several dignitaries” hm I feel. like. this. will introduce the Briarwoods.

- *spongebob timecard voiceover* Two. Seconds. Later.

- Y’all some stupid bandits. To any and all aspiring bandits out there, if you pull over some super rich looking fucks to rob and they can’t be arsed to seem a little worried, you should probably just. let them go.

- Dude was already built like a brick house like it’s not as though he’s. not. intimidating.

- Anyway I know nothing about WHY the Briarwoods are bad I just know they are and it has something to do with Percy and he would very much like them dead.

#vox machina blogging #tlovm

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loquaciousquark · 4 years

Text

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E113 (Oct. 27, 2020)

Good evening and good night, lovely people of the world! We’re on the internet and ready to go. Tonight’s guests are Travis Willingham and Sam Riegel. This will be calm, controlled, and sane, I can feel it. Brian points out it’s been seven months since either of them were on Talks. Oof. (Sam asks if it’s been going the whole time without him. Bigger oof.) Travis keeps sneaking bites out of an acai bowl or something and tries to look sneaky about it, and I laugh every time because he’s just...so big. He’s such a big person.

(Brian is wearing a lobstrosity shirt. He and Travis talk about Dark Tower for a bit; then Sam tries to get into the conversation: “Is that the thing from It?” Brian: “Is what the thing from It?” Sam: “Is that lobster the clown from It? I’m not very literate. Is that a Langolier? Is that a Shawshank?”)

Announcements: none! Maybe they just forgot. We’ve been talking about Sam’s spooky skeleton decorations for like five minutes. Brian suggests taking them to Travis’s house. Travis: “That’s the fastest way to get to the smell of burning plastic.” Brian: “Speaking of your girlfriend...”

On Avantika: Fjord wouldn’t call it a relationship as much as a casual sexual interaction. Not official! Super not official!!

The first sea voyage wasn’t great for Fjord, but he tried to be thoughtful about preparing for this one before they left: praying, kneeling at the bow of the ship, etc. He’s a little disappointed the Wildmother didn’t even throw him a “yo, fam” heads up.

They weren’t sure how to resolve the conflict at first, since Avantika went for Fjord rather than the crystal. No one expected it to get exposed in that way. Travis thought the necklace was a pocket dimension and was alarmed to learn it wasn’t. Travis wants it destroyed along with the third gateway, so until they are he won’t rest easy.

Everyone enjoyed watching them all fail on the battlefield again. (Sam: “You used [Counterspell] so effectively!”) Travis thought he’d said Thunder Step, which would imply Avantika was running, rather than Thunder Wave. Sam says it’s fine since none of them have that spell and he wouldn’t know it anyway.

It’s very difficult for Veth to find reasons to stay with the M9. She loves the adventures and making a difference, but she also wants to come home and have weekends and have a husband and life. “She’s a career girl!” He’s very excited about the possibilities of Caleb’s transportation effectively creating an easy commute for her. He also, as a player, doesn’t want to be the person who’s always leaving the party. “My characters wanna roam!”

Travis was fully tilted that Avantika might have gotten away right before the break. He doesn’t think he could have focused on Vess DeRogna’s task knowing Avantika had gotten away; he was seriously working out how Fjord would leave the party to go make a last stand at the third gate if she’d escaped.

Sam looooves how Matt plays Yeza, but it honestly makes him feel a little worse at how encouraging he is for Veth to chase her dreams. “He’s always like - go shine! Go blossom!” He wants to have the conversation about Yeza feeling a little ignored. It’s fun to share the tales of adventures with Luc & Yeza.

Travis says there’s no way it’s Molly--it’s all Lucien. They don’t know if it was a resurrection, if he’s undead, possessed, etc. Everyone--everyone--rags on Taliesin’s accent work. Brian surreptitiously claims Ashly was brought on to relieve him of the burden of the accent. Poor Ashly, ha!

Initially, Travis landed on the Oath of the Ancients, but it had more nature & pacifism in it than he felt fit Fjord very well. Many of them also had a focus on good & lawfulness, which also didn’t feel quite right; he also wasn’t that vengeful for some of the others. He & Matt got together and discussed options. Matt asked what Travis liked about Fjord; Fjord’s love for the ocean was a huge part of it, since Travis himself also loves the ocean & scuba diving, and so Matt created a custom oath for him. Travis does not plan to post its details, but he thinks Matt will at some point.

Cosplay of the Week! a lovely Scanlan by Air Bubbles Cosplay! Sam tells us the “canon” Scanlan cosplay was actually borrowed hodgepodge, and the boots were falling off all day.

It was really cool to see how Yeza & Luc have made a home in Nicodranas. Felderwin was okay, but kind of your basic D&D fishing village, and she likes the Nicodranas is much better. She’s confident & comfortable knowing her family is safe and sound.

Why is Fjord so interested in finding Sabian? To him, post-orphanage, his time with Vandren was the best of his life & the most love he’d ever received, because he mattered & had worth. It was taken by someone he’d known basically his whole life, so Fjord is not going to let that go. “That fuckin’ bill needs to be paid, my friend.”

Sam acknowledges that he should NOT have looked at his phone in re: the Vilya reveal, but it was pretty surprising! He can’t believe none of them recognized it! Travis points out the M9 had never met, heard of, or known anything about Vilya, so it’s not that surprising. Brian points out Matt has also done a really good job keeping the two campaigns separate, so any references were tasteful. Sam marvels that it was so well done: it was tasteful, had emotional and story impact... “That Matt. He’s getting better!”

Liam texted Sam back something like “oh SHIT.”

Knowing Veth had a chance to help someone else return to her child made Veth feel almost karmically forgiven for being away from her kid, but it also made Veth a little guilty--”this lady wants to desperately return home, shouldn’t I want to go home too?” Caleb’s teleportation spell couldn’t have come a better time.

Sam wants Caleb & Astrid to get back together (well, he says “hump each other”), and Dani’s eyebrows climb off her forehead. Veth/Nott really thinks Caleb needs to have a roll in ze hay, and feels like after meeting her that there is a kindness or vulnerability to her that could be worthwhile. Travis thinks she feels like someone tethered, that it feels like she has a bomb or something in her chest that’ll explode if she tries to leave. Sam thinks Eadwulf is super cool. None of these names are spelled like I think.

Travis found the dinner super frustrating, because he felt Caleb was trying to walk a diplomatic line and he just wanted to backhand Trent.

Fjord is still coming to terms with his feelings for Jester, and the feelings are definitely real, but there’s a lot of timing that he’s considering and he also wants to figure out what the relationship is like outside of constant tension and battle. Fjord is also having trouble figuring out how to exercise the ability to display affection as well since he’s never received them, and is feeling out how to give and receive them. “It’s fine now, because he’s feeling it, but once you say it out loud, or once you come to a point where you make it known to the other side, then what happens? It might be ruined. It might be broken. Or it might not be!” The moment with the porcelain unicorn was too good not to try. Travis also sighs that he’s not a romance D&D guy, “but now I am! Fuckin’ Laura Bailey!” He’s definitely feeling it out and will see how it unfolds in the game.

If Jester hadn’t let go of the Traveler, Fjord would have either attacked the Traveler or the Moonweaver and tried to kick them both off.

Sam doesn’t think the Traveler’s realized yet what a dick he is. Brian thinks it may not happen in this campaign, but agrees the full weight of what he deserves hasn’t been felt yet. Travis: “Yeah, he came to the edge, but it didn’t cost him anything.” Brian: “Yeah, he’s a real edgelord.”

Fanart of the Week! a beautiful portrait of Molly in the snow by @claygryphon on twitter.

Veth acknowledges that they work for shady people with shady pasts, so Vess DeRogna isn’t her first rodeo, but this time it’s personal. It’s Jaws 2: Electric Boogaloo. Sam can’t commit to actual actions, since Vess is like level 20 or something, but “I will get some kinda revenge. Be it petty or significant, I will get revenge.”

How are they feeling about being in Eiselcross? They’ve only just landed, so not sure yet. The cold is intimidating. They’re excited to explore a new island that’s part of Wildemount, especially with the river of lava running through it. “It’s icy with lava? Sounds like a Dairy Queen.”

There’s still a ton of unknowns regarding the Tombtakers, Vess, the nature of their job, and who’s here on whose orders. They’re excited to see how it’s all going to play out. Travis laughs that he doesn’t take notes, he’s just here to fight things. It just washes over him when Matt starts talking about names and places. “It’ll reveal itself in time. [...] I don’t write those notes down. I don’t even know how to spell it off the bat.” I have never identified more with Travis. Sam actually does pay attention and take notes and was really impressed by Marisha’s dive.

Veth became interested in branding her own spellcraft as soon as she saw Caleb doing it. “That’s what the influencer agents are gonna be looking at. It would be nice to leave the world better than we found it, but also with some branded spells.”

What were Fjord’s thoughts on dropping so much money on the ring & the Ioun stone? It wasn’t about money for Fjord, it was about a cool thing to acquire. It’s why he saves money in his campaign. Caleb needs “as much of a flak jacket as he can get.” He also REJECTS the idea of buyer’s remorse on the ring and touts the effectiveness it’ll have on the lava river.

Travis talks about his old coins - a 340AD coin he bought at a ren faire and a 120BC coin that was a gift from a friend.

Sam marvels at the love and thought that Caleb put into the tower. Sam points out they forgot to go to the top two floors altogether. Travis: “Did the mansion get as much careful planning from Scanlan as the tower did from Caleb?” Sam: Absolutely not. But they were still thinking small in C1, figuring out how things went, and they didn’t have as much detail in their heads yet.

And that’s all the time we have for tonight! We end on everyone whispering way too close into their mics and tapping fingernails on mason jars. A fitting end to this crazy episode, I think.

Is it Thursday yet?

#talks machina #talks machina spoilers #critical role #critical role spoilers #long post for ts

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joyfulsongbird · 3 years

Text

A Curious Beginning

the pre-canon Campaign 1 Feeblemind!Percy AU I made out of pure self indulgence, inspired by @rainydaydecaf 's Feeblemind!Essek fics that I ADORE and you all should go read!!

here's the AO3 link if that's where you prefer to read!

thank you, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

***

The bar is relatively quiet and subdued after the day, in the aftermath of an attack on a small village people tend to stay inside their homes; spend time with families after the reminder that they could be snatched from this life in an instant. Leaves more drinks and seats for everybody else, so it’s a welcome side effect of the attack. The members of Vox Machina are slightly scattered, some with more energy than others.

Scanlan and Grog are up at the bar, chatting with the bartender. Pike is sitting several feet away, swinging her feet from her stool and watching her friends silently. Keyleth is sitting quietly right by Vex and Vax, who both find themselves in conversation with one of the few townsfolk who is in this bar at this time of night.

“We can’t leave until we find some more supplies,” Vax is saying to the man, a simple butcher who was a good enough conversationalist. Vex is half listening, the other half of her mind nearly falling asleep from the long day. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, spending most of it on watch and the other half tossing and turning for little reason whatsoever. She’s used to spending nights sleeping on the forest floor, but for some reason last night she just couldn’t get her mind to relax. “All our casters are tapped of spells for the time being and the rest of us managed to lose many of our weapons in the battle. We won’t be able to rest if we can’t defend ourselves.”

“The old prison might have a few blades lying around, maybe a crossbow or two.” the butcher says, a finger twisting a curl in his long, brown beard. “I know it was one of the first places to get attacked by those beasts and is still empty, all the guards were forced to leave without taking any of the valuables.” “And what of the prisoners?” Vax asks.

“Let free.” the butcher replies. “Gonna be difficult as hell to round ‘em all back up, but the prisons half collapsed. Roof caved in. You won’t need to worry about dealing with the prisoners, I’m sure there’s something useful in the rubble and in the parts that are still standing upright.” “Let’s do that,” Keyleth pipes up. “You lost your daggers, and Vex still has arrows but her bow got stolen.” “Don’t remind me.” Vex sighs, leaning her chin against the palm of her hand. It was ridiculous, they’re supposed to be the best fighters in all of Tal’dorei and they got caught off guard in the woods. First, by bandits, and then immediately after, a monster attack on the nearest village. It feels like the universe is playing tricks on them, taunting them, giving them victories but at what cost? “But Kiki’s right, we should scavenge what we can before shelling out the money to buy new weapons.”

“Always the frugal one, sister.” Vax says before standing and clapping his hands to get their friends' attention. “We need to have a quick talk, huddle up.”

It’s discussed quickly, many of them are eager to either get back to the bar or to bed. Not everybody needs to go to the prison, afterall, it’s not necessary that all of the crowd into a building that may or may not be unstable and cave in on all of them at any moment. But it’s decided that both the twins will go; Vax for obvious reasons, they wouldn’t be able to open a single locked door or safe without him. Vex will tag along as well.

“I want to make sure you all get the correct things, I don’t want you going without me and finding out you decided to only bring back daggers and whatever whiskey they have stored away.”

And finally, Keyleth volunteers despite not having any spells left, she does have a few cantrips that could be of use. Pike, Scanlan, and Grog all decide to stay behind, the latter two out of desire to remain at the bar, and the first because she has no healing left and would be in more danger than use. And also to make sure the others don’t get too rowdy, just in case. They don’t expect much out of an old prison used just as a holding place for criminals before trial. All of them doubt many of the prisoners from a rinky dink, dusty town like this would carry weapons more than bare minimum in quality. Better to go and come up empty handed rather than not go at all.

They set out into the night, given directions by the butcher to the outskirts of town, away from what little civilization there is out here. If you can even call a town as small as this one a civilization. The streets are quiet and all three half elves blend in with the shadows, though Keyleth stands out with her red hair and green clothing, but there is no imminent danger. The walk is quiet, with few words exchanged in the companionable silence. They reach the edge of the town and start walking through a wide field, the land quite flat and vast until it reaches the edge of a forest. They can see only very little, and the only indication of where they should be headed is the rise of a dark shadow in the vague shape of something that used to be a building.

Keyleth holds out her palm and a small ball of golden white light appears, casting a dim light around 40 feet around them. They can see, now, that the field is covered in old, dying grass and it is nice to know where they are stepping so as not to fall into a pit or step on a snake. They grow closer to the building, and with Keyleth’s light they can now make out the various features of the prison itself. At one point, it would’ve been a one story building, made of gray brick that still looks somewhat like it’s going to crumble. Now, one side of the building has collapsed, leaving a gaping hole that one could easily step through. It looks precarious, as if one flick could send the whole thing tumbling down.

“Well,” Vex says, her voice loud enough that it must travel across this open plain and back into the town. “Looks as if you don’t need to pick any locks.”

Vax chuckles and starts towards the building, Keyleth and Vex following close in his wake. They approach the gaping hole in the wall, inspecting the brick and the foundation for a moment before climbing through. Vax goes first, pulling one leg and then another over what is left of the wall between the inside and outside. One they’re all inside, they stand silent for a few moments. Keyleth’s light seems to grow brighter in this enclosed space, illuminating all of their faces and the rubble leftover from the attack earlier in the day. The place is a mess, but not so much of a mess that they can’t pick their way through this building until they find what appears to be the sheriff’s office. This door is locked, however, but Vax opens it easily enough.

“Rusty ass locks are no match against me.” he says with a grin before swinging the door open and letting them all inside. There isn’t much to find in this room, and in the drawers of the desk they find in the center of the office. Everything is either near bare or not of any use to them. Some writing utensils, papers, a smoking pipe, and other mundane things but that’s about it. Vex is about to throw in the towel when Keyleth lets out a yelp, not one of fear but of excitement. The twins turn their heads in her direction and watch as she drags a crate of some sort from under the floorboards.

“I heard a creaking and thought it sounded sort of hollow under the floor.” She explains as she strains to pull out the crate, Vax rushes towards her and helps place the wood box in the center of the office. It seems like it’s heavier than it looks, judging by how much effort both Vax and Keyleth have to put into carrying it. They pry it open and all three crowd over to get a good look inside, Keyleth holding her light closer to get a better look.

Vex grins. Inside is an array of items, but most importantly, weapons. Maybe not the best weapons around but it’s something. Vax immediately reaches in and pulls out one of the daggers, holding in his palm, feeling the weight. He nods to himself.

“They’ll do for now.” He does the same with another dagger that sits in the box, deeming this one suitable as well. There are no bows, sadly, though Vex had suspected that not many outlaws would be carrying around good quality bows. There is a shortsword and while it’s not her preferred weapon, it’s usable. She’d rather have a weapon she’s somewhat proficient in by her side rather than no weapon at all. She’ll go buy a new bow in the morning, though it will be grudgingly. She’d rather just hunt down those bandits but by now, they’ll be long gone and her bow will be on the black market. The thought makes her fume, even now, but she lets it go with a soft sigh.

There aren’t just weapons inside the box, some clothes are there as well. A few tunics, a couple pairs of boots, a long blue coat, a hat or two, even a pair of glasses. They leave all of it behind, for they have no need for it and perhaps the escaped prisoners will come back for their things one day. Vax is putting away his new daggers and Vex is turning back towards the door when Keyleth’s voice makes them both pause.

“Guys,” her voice comes out soft and confused, with a touch of fear. “What is this thing?”

Vex looks back towards her, her pale face is illuminated by her own light from below, the shadows creating a contrast on her pale skin. She looks almost deathly in this light, like her skeleton is starting to show on her outsides. And with how wide her eyes are, how blown the pupils are in the dim light, it is even more believable. Vex’s eyes are drawn away from Keyleth’s face when she lifts up some mechanism with a few careful fingers. It’s a metal thing, large but small enough to fit in one’s hands. The shape of it is… odd. Not like anything she’s ever seen before. If it was turned upright, it might look a little like a crossbow but even then, that’s pushing it. It’s nothing like anything Vex has ever seen, and judging by her brother’s face and Keyleth’s reaction, neither have they.

Vax reaches forward and gently takes it from her, Keyleth lets it go easily. He gingerly holds it, turning it over in his palm once, twice, and switches it to his other hand. “I- I don’t know. I’ve never…” Vex snatches from him, inspecting it in her own hands. The metal is cool to the touch, heavy but not so heavy that it strains against her wrists as she hands it in one hand. It’s obviously hand crafted, she can see where the metal was shaped, where the leather on the handle (or what she assumes is the handle) was hand sewn, how each embellishment was created with care. She has no idea what it is supposed to be, but no matter what, she’s intrigued and impressed by the craftsmanship.

“We should keep it.” she announces. “Whatever it is, I bet it’ll fetch a pretty penny. Never seen anything like it.”

“I don’t know, Vex.” Keyleth worries her bottom lip, looking apprehensive. “It’s just… I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“It’ll be fine, darling,” she assures her, tucking the thing safely into her belt. “It’ll be out of our hands in no time.”

They leave it at that, though Keyleth looks as if she wants to keep pushing the topic. There’s nothing else of value to bring back in this particular room, and they replace the top of the crate. They don’t put it back under the floor, though, choosing to leave it out in the open. There’s not much of a point of putting it away if somebody’s going to be scavenging through it anyways. They leave the sheriffs office with the door unlocked, the place is already in ruins there really isn’t a point in them trying to cover their tracks.

They walk down the narrow hallway, it’s relatively short too, and they don’t come across a door until the far end of it. It’s a small prison after all, and based on the size of it, probably not able to hold more than a dozen people and even then that might be crowded. The door at the end of the hallway is unlocked, and slightly ajar. Vax pushes it open, the light from Keyleth’s palm revealing a descending stairwell. Vex lets Keyleth pass first behind Vax before following in the back. The stairs are cold stone, damp and muddy and mossy in some patches. It’s disgusting, obviously a very old room, and smells of mildew and piss. Vex had forgotten what untended jails are like, not even a drop of care has gone into the creation of this place. She can see the walls are bare, the same stone as the floor. It’s like a stone box, closed in from every side, stifling and dark. It makes her pity those who end up in here, she knows that many of those who end up in these small town jails are just people whose crimes are petty theft or wrong place, wrong time. It is empty now, the cells separated by grimy metal bars completely bare.

“There’s not going to be anything down here.” Vex calls after her brother who is going to each cell and searching inside. “We might as well leave.”

“C’mon, help me look, Stubby, don’t you want to be thorough?”

“Oh, yes, of course, there’s going to be daggers just sitting around. It smells awful, Vax, let’s just-”

“Guys.”

Keyleth’s voice makes Vex stop her ramble, snapping her mouth shut at the tone she’s taking. A fake calm, gentle but gentle in the way you put on when trying to sooth an animal.

When no other addition comes, Vex moves towards where her friend stands. “What is it?”

All Keyleth does is lift the hand that isn’t alight and point towards the stairs. What they hadn’t noticed when descending them was that they are somewhat hollow, built in a strange way so that there is a hole between the stairs and the wall. Just large enough for a person to fit in, maybe stand if they were short enough or if they bent their neck. Now, when Keyleth is turned towards the hole, the light from her fist shining towards it, they can make out a huddled figure inside. Neither Keyleth nor Vex moves, they are frozen in place. Vex cannot make out who it is, what they are, or even get a good look at their figure, but the one thing she can figure out is that they are afraid. She can see their shaking form from here. The way their whole body moves in tremors. It makes her want to rush forward, to lay a hand on them and comfort in any way she can. But she cannot bring herself to move.

“Vax.” she says, under her breath. “Stay where you are.”

“Vex-”

“Just- stay.” she says, trying to command as much as she can through her tone. Her feet before she can even think about whether this figure could be dangerous, her strides take her almost five feet away from them before she even stops to think. She pauses, grips the handle of her new shortsword for a moment. She thinks about drawing it before deciding, ultimately, that there is something going on here with more nuance than just a monster in disguise or a criminal trying to fool her. She sinks down to sit on her ankles, motioning for Keyleth to come closer. She does, staying a few paces behind Vex but holds out the light to get a better look.

The figure flinches away, turning their face towards the wall. They’re obviously humanoid, if not just human, and curled on themself. She can’t seem to get a good look and scoots just a little closer. She knows that she’s being rash but there’s a pull in her stomach. Something that doesn’t feel right. Something that is making her reach forward and place two careful fingers on the edge of the hole in the wall.

“Hello.” her voice comes out soft, breathy. The person does not answer. If anything, they’ve only shrunken further away since Keyleth and Vex got closer. “Kiki, could you back away a bit?”

“I- alright. Vex… be careful.” she says, as the light fades slightly. Vex keeps her eyes on the subject before her, and the farther that Keyleth backs away, the more relaxed they seem to become. It’s not much, the shoulders are still bunched, the body still shakes, but at least now Vex can make out that it’s a human. A man. His face turns slightly her way and she can see, even now that the shoulders are stronger away from the light, that his eyes are wide, and bright blue.

“Hello.” she repeats. He looks at her, meets her gaze, and in this moment she knows. This man is not a danger. His gaze snaps from her face down to her waist where the shortsword hangs, recognition floods his eyes and he turns away again. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll get rid of it.”

She removes it from her belt and tosses it aside, “see? Gone.”

This, also, seems to sooth him. She’s heard of afflictions like this before. This man looks to be younger than her, but not so young as to be acting like a terrified child. The sort of magical affliction that removes all logic, all knowledge, all language even, the cruelest act you can put on a person. The spell that takes away every ounce of their dignity. She cannot recall the name nor the cure but at least she knows what’s wrong with this man. And that a cure exists. The realization on her part comes early enough she knows to remove all weapons and things that could scare him. She hasn’t met somebody afflicted by this before but she knows how easily spooked they are. Treat them like you’d treat a scared child, a healer she knew had once said. She removes the strange metal weapon from her belt as well, tossing it aside with the sword. The man’s eyes follow this closely, eyebrows furrowed close together as his gaze tracks the contraption. His eyes stay locked on it, gaze more focused than she has seen him thus far. She has no other weapons now, and holds her hands towards him, palms up.

“Can you speak?” she asks quietly, already knowing the answer, but hoping anyway.

There is no reply.

He is still shaking, still terrified, and the quiet is starting to get to her. She wants to leave but cannot leave this man behind, not in this state. He reminds her too much of (however ridiculous it is) Trinket, and of herself, afraid and alone.

“Vex, what’s going on?” her brother’s voice breaks through the silence and she shushes him when the poor man flinches.

“It’s alright.” she soothes. His gaze, as soon as he relaxes again, finds the metal contraption on the floor. It’s the only thing that, when he focuses on it, makes his eyes seem alive, bright. It makes him seem present rather than stuck in a reality that does not make sense, one that can’t comprehend words other than the tone that goes along with them. There’s desire in those eyes, but desire that is held back by fear.

“Is that yours?” she asks, even though she knows he cannot answer. He can’t even understand the words she says, let alone formulate an answer. But she goes to the contraption anyway, scooping it up and placing it before him. Close enough that he doesn’t have to move any closer to her in order to pick it up. He grabs it tentatively, as if he, too, isn’t quite sure what it is but recognizes it nonetheless. He holds it carefully, but in a way that clearly says he has done this before. He looks at it with admiration, almost with love. How strange it is to see a grown man cradling some mechanical object like a plaything, like a comfort toy. He relaxes much more, now that he has the weapon in his possession. Which should worry her, but to be honest, she is quite sure she could single handedly take him out in this state, even if he was armed and she was weaponless.

Now that he is facing her, she can get a better look at him. His face and hair and body is covered in dirt and grime, as if he’s been rolled in mud and dust and then was thrown down in this dungeon. But even under the grime she can see that he is young, maybe a couple years above his teen years but still. His eyes are that striking blue. Hair matted and so dirty she can’t make out the color or texture. It’s like he’s been down here forever. His clothes are the same, once they might’ve been of good quality but now are ripped and dirty and in dire need of a wash. Or even better, just being burned and replaced. Something fierce rises in her throat, something instinctual that tells her that he has been wronged. She doesn’t even know his name, but there are very few people in the world who deserve to have every means of communication and reality stripped from them. Very few people deserve to have their mind taken away and then in addition to that, locked in the dark and the cold. Who knows the last time he saw the sun.

That settles it for her.

“Darling,” she keeps her voice soft, knowing that the only way he can judge people is based on the sound of their voice. His head lifts a little, face turning slightly towards her so at least she knows he’s listening. She holds out a hand, gesturing towards her, hoping that he’ll get the idea. “Come here. We can go. We can get you out. Please.” “Vex, what the hell are you doing?”

She ignores her brother's words, pursing her lips as the man in front of her makes a whimpering sound at the harsh sound of Vax’s voice.

“It’s alright.” she coos. She wishes she had Scanlan here to cast Friends or something but all she can do is just try to get him out of here based purely on trust. It’s apparent that in this state, and probably out of it as well, he is not quick to lay his trust out in the open. It takes a long time, a long time in which she has to continually shut up her brother and sometimes even Keyleth, though they both mean well. She coaxes him out of the hole in the wall, spending minutes on minutes getting him more comfortable with her being close. She doesn’t know why she is putting this much effort in, if anything, it should be Keyleth who is pushing so hard to save some random civilian in danger. But she will not let herself leave him behind.

She beams at him when he stands, nearly falling on unsteady feet, but regains his balance after a moment. “Good job, darling. Now, up the stairs.”

She guides him to the front of the stairwell, lightly brushing a hand on his back as a way of getting him there. Barely a touch, barely even a brush, but he still tries to twist away with a whimper in his throat. She hates having to cause distress like that, but it’s the only way she can get him to go the right way. Otherwise, he’d just wander away or sit back down on the floor. She pauses at the first step, wondering how she’s supposed to help him up. But (thank the gods) his muscle memory still seems to be intact and he climbs the stairs easily enough, though stumbling here and there.

From behind her, she hears her brother's voice, now soft. “Stubby-”

“I don’t want to hear it, brother.” she whispers back. They all reach the top of the stairs and Vex grins at the man. “Well done, darling!” Something in his eyes brightens at the delight in her voice and he leans in a little towards her, his lips quirking up slightly in what looks like it could be a smile. He’s still cradling the weapon tightly to his chest, squeezing it like a lifeline. As soon as she turns away from him, though, she’s faced with Vax’s face, serious and stone hard.

“Keyleth, watch… him, please. Make sure he doesn’t run off.” and she grabs Vax’s arm and walks him down the hall, back into the sheriff's office. She closes the door behind her a little harder than necessary, already knowing what’s going to come out of his mouth.

“Vex, you know this is a bad idea-”

“I know what you’re going to say-” They both cut off at the same time, sending each other equally heated glares. Vax takes the initiative and keeps going, she listens as she crosses her arms over her chest. They’re both stubborn as hell, and in this she has already decided that she’s going to win.

“We can’t just go around picking up strays, Stubby.” he says, voice lowered and even despite the obvious frustration showing on his face. “That guy out there could be dangerous. Who knows how he ended up in this place!” “He was left behind, Vax. In a crumbling building. It’s a miracle he didn’t get trapped down there, or we came a day or two later and he was dead from dehydration. How can you want to leave him behind, when he’s- when he’s so vulnerable.” She can’t explain why she’s so passionate about this, but there is not a world in which she can imagine herself leaving behind this man in that prison. She is not known for being the morally strong one of their group but her mind will not let it go. Seeing him curled up like that, so weak, so vulnerable, so open to an attack… it’s not alright.

“I’m just saying maybe there’s a reason he was left behind, alright?” Vax says, running a hand through his hair.

“Somebody hurt him.” She snaps. “Somebody did this to him and I would hope that if the same was done for me, you’d hope a stranger would help me.” “What is up with you?” He asks, his voice strangled and frustrated. “Why are you deciding that now is the time you’ll try to be like Kiki?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” “You know what I mean.” She groans, “I’m not leaving him behind, Vax. Believe it or not, I do have a heart.” “I’m gonna need a little more proof before I believe that.” she punches him in the shoulder (hard enough to hurt a bit, but not too hard. She still loves her brother) before opening the door back to the hallway. She lets Vax through before turning back to look at the crate. She remembers all the clothes that are sitting on the bottom of the crate, and then remembers how dirty their new addition’s clothes are. Probably for the best that he gets a new shirt or maybe more.

She leaves the door open and makes her way back down the hallway, where it is no longer light and Keyleth stands awkwardly. Their new companion shifts from foot to foot, she can see his head twisting around in the dark, as if searching for something or someone. As she approaches, his head turns towards the sound of her footsteps. She can see his eyes even in the dark and sees how they relax just slightly at the sight of her. He starts walking, stopping a few feet in front of her and letting her close the distance until they’re nearly shoulder to shoulder. It’s odd that he’s so much taller than she is. It feels as if it shouldn’t be like that, when he’s so childlike and hunched over. But if he were to stand to his full height with proper posture and all, he’d be a head taller than her, maybe more.

“I think he’s imprinted on you, Vex.” Vax quips from a few feet away. She ignores him pointedly.

“He got scared of the light,” Keyleth explains. “So I put it out. I think now that you’re back I could start it back up though, he feels… safer with you.” “Yeah,” Vex nods to Keyleth and she opens her palm to make Light again. “I think we should get him some clothes, then leave.” She doesn’t turn to look at Vax, she knows her brother well and she knows exactly how much of an apprehensive, disbelieving expression he will have on his face. She leads them down the hallway and back into the sheriff's office where she immediately goes back to the crate, removes the top, and starts pawing through it. The man (should she call him a boy? He’s barely a man) leans over and watches her move things around, looking for clothing that might fit him. He’s thin, leaner than Vax even and most shirts look like they’d be large on him. As she’s doing this, he leans forward farther and grabs a bunch of fabric in his fist, pulling up what looks like a large blue coat. His expression brightens significantly, as he holds the garment out in front of him with one of his hands.

“Is that yours, darling?” Vex asks, and though he cannot possibly understand, he holds out the coat towards her, as if asking her to help him put it on. In his eagerness to pull it on, he even allows her to take the weapon from him, replacing it at her belt for the time being. She takes the coat from him and holds it out in front of her with both hands, it’s navy blue, made of good material if a little dirty, with buttons that are still shiny and pockets that still appear to be laden with small trinkets and the sort. In the last moment before helping him into it, she has the foresight to check the neckline for any indication of where it might have come from, as many garments had stamps from where they were made. But there were no stamps or tags of any kind, just one word, neatly hand stitched into the collar.

Percival.

“Huh.” she says aloud. She looks up into the boy’s blue eyes. “Percival?” Even if he does not know his name, it is obvious that this sparks at least a feeling of some sort. He sways on the spot, his eyes getting that brightness again. He makes a sound, low in his throat, not a whimper like he had before, but one that sounds closer to being content.

“We’ll call you that then.” she decides as she repeats it in her mind. Percival. Percival. Turns it over in her head, remembering how it felt on her tongue. Percival. She tries to seek out any familiarity in it, tries to remember if they’ve met before to give herself a reason for caring for him so much in his vulnerability when she could’ve easily left him to fend for himself. She comes up with nothing. Now, with his coat on, he looks much more regal, more like a grown person rather than a child. It sounds ridiculous to say since she does not know him but he looks more like himself. He looks happier with that coat on, even twists side to side to watch the bottom of the coat flap around.

Before putting on the coat, she chooses a few other garments out of the crate. A white (or what was once white) button up shirt. A pair of pants. And upon realizing he’s barefoot, she grabs boots and socks from the bottom of the crate and tucks them under her arm along with the other clothing. He’s still watching her, staying close. Maybe Vax is right and he has imprinted on her in some way, the same way a duckling imprints on the first animal that it sees after being hatched. She might’ve been the first person to show him kindness after being reduced to this mindspace. She can’t bear the thought of leaving him even more now. Perhaps she’s become a bit irrationally attached the same way he has to her, but she’ll let it go. He’ll be healed and out of this spell in no time, and then she’ll be able to let it go.

It takes a ridiculous amount of time to get the socks and boots onto Percival, but she does it, with not much help from him at all. She’ll wait on the other clothes, on the most likely false hope that Pike will be able to magically fix him as soon as they get back into town.

Before they can head out though, Percival reaches into the crate again. After rifling through it for a few moments, he pulls out the one pair of glasses that had sat at the bottom. It’s a damn miracle they didn’t shatter.

“Yours, too?” she asks, taking them from him and reaching up to place them on his nose. Again, this makes him look that much more right. Judging from the brightness that enters his expression again, this is good. Perhaps he’d been half blind without them.

“Alright, let’s go then.” Keyleth and Vax are suspiciously quiet as they leave the prison building, coming away with a lot more than they had anticipated when heading over here. She knows that Vax is angry with her and Keyleth… well, Keyleth cares about Vax. And about Vex too. Vex does not blame her for feeling conflicted when two of her family disagree like this, even if they are siblings who tend to disagree on the daily. Percival stays close, now trusting her seemingly implicitly. He is allowing her to touch him, gently of course, but she is able to hold the sleeve of his jacket and lead him through the field. He had allowed her to put on his boots, even let her lay a hand on his forearm for a moment. Out of the prison, he is more at ease, Keyleth’s light doesn’t seem to bother him so much. It’s a relief to see that he has stopped shaking so much out of fear, only does he tremble when there’s an unexpected sound or anybody besides Vex gets too close.

They make it back to the town and Percival moves closer to her, choosing between two evils: close contact with Vex or having to be without comfort in the new environment of the town. He flinches at every passerby (even though there are very few at this time of night), jumps at every sound, even sometimes his own footsteps. So he presses himself to her side, holding his weapon with one hand and bunching up the fabric of her jacket with his other. She allows it, trying to soothe as best as she knows how as they make their way back to the tavern.

They reach the front of the tavern, it looks nearly empty now but vex still worries that it’ll be too much for Percival to go in. She can’t exactly leave him outside by himself though, and she doesn’t trust Vax to recount the story of finding him truthfully. So he comes in with them. He takes these steps with relative ease and follows her through the door without hesitation. He shrinks back in on himself, though, when as soon as they enter Grog and Scanlan shoot up from their seats upon recognizing the three half elves. They stop moving towards them, however, when they see the fourth person who arrives with them when they had left the tavern with three.

Surprisingly, Pike is the first to reach them, as if sensing something is off. Percival steps back, looking back towards the door. Vex holds onto his sleeve, keeping him from running when he quite obviously wants to.

“Sorry, dear, you’ve got to stay.” She turns back to Pike. “Long story, but I need you to fix him. I don’t know what it is exactly that’s wrong but I’d hoped you might.” Pike nods, expression resolute. “Let’s go to a back room, come on.”

Vex manages to coax Percival along, following Pike out of the main tavern and into a washroom of some sort. There are candles and things keeping the place bright enough to see, the glow golden and making Pike’s white hair look more yellow. In this enclosed space, Percival seems far more nervous, more like he was when they first found him. Hands shaking, head twisting side to side to try and look at all of his surroundings at once. Vex pats his hand gently, doing her best to help while knowing that the only way to help him, truly, is to heal this spell.

Vex recconts everything wrong with Percival to Pike, who listens in her usual comfortable silence. How he cannot speak, can’t understand a thing they say, his fear, his childlike demeanor. She nods along and after just a few minutes of speaking, she interrupts Vex.

“Feeblemind.” As soon as Pike says it, the connection makes sense. It was just at the back of her mind, an itch she couldn’t understand. She hasn’t interacted with Feeblemind before but from what she has heard, it’s exactly as painful and terrible as she’s heard.

“I don’t have the magic to fix it.” Vex’s shoulders sag at the words, what are they supposed to do? “I’m sure other healers do, we can ask around but I can’t fix him.” “What do we do?” Vex asks, rubbing her face with both of hands. “He can’t exactly take care of himself right now. It’s Feeblemind. The whole point of it is that it takes away all capabilities. I just… gods-” She feels a soft nudge on her shoulder and looks away to see Percival looking at her, blue eyes wide and… there’s concern there, isn’t there? Real, genuine concern. She bites the inside of her cheek, a little perturbed by that fact. That’s the nature of this spell, isn’t it? It makes you less trustworthy but it also has made him put so much trust in her, the person looking out for him, the one who has shown him kindness. He’s making assumptions based on the first thing people do. Vax, and his sharp words. Keyleth, and her magic. Vex, and her gentleness around him. She swallows thickly, the knowledge heavy.

“I’m alright, dear, just tired.” The look on her face must suffice as he leans away and continues watching Pike warily.

“I know,” Pike says. “There’s nothing we can do tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll ask about a healer. But for now, all we can do is watch him and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. Maybe give him a bath.” Vex turns to look at Percival, at his grime covered face, at his wide eyes, and the openness on his face when he looks at her. What has she gotten them into?

“Alright.” she sighs. “Let’s go break the news to Vax, hm?”

***

Vax, surprisingly, hadn’t been surprised. He’d simply looked at her knowingly, took a gulp from Scanlan’s drink and audibly sighed. “I’m going to bed.”

When he was gone, Scanlan laughed. “First, Trinket. Now, a full grown man. What’s next? You’re working your way up rather quickly.” She had simply rolled her eyes and not replied, ordered a hot bath in her room, and left before Percival had a panic attack right out in the front room. It hadn’t occurred to her how raucous all of Vox Machina could be when they were in one room, people trying to talk at the same time, laughter as loud as a shout. It was not the correct environment for the Feebleminded, so they left after just a few minutes. Up the stairs, winding through the hallway until they reach her room on the second floor. She opens the door and lets him inside, follows quickly while shutting and locking the door. She drops the clothes she’d brought for him on the floor in a messy pile, and looks back towards Percival. He’s gazing around, taking in the room in its entirety. Quite neat, since she hasn’t yet stayed there for a night. The desk empty except for an empty notebook and a pen. The bed made and the pillows fluffed. There’s a tub in the middle of the room, filled with steaming water.

“You’re covered in dirt.” she says, as a way of explanation even though he couldn’t understand. She feels better giving an explanation, despite it not even counting. She’s torn between two sides of her mind. One side, concerned that he can’t consent to anything in this state, that his mind is that of a toddlers. The other side can’t bear the idea of him sitting and sleeping covered in dirt and mud and what looks like it might be blood. In the end, the latter side wins out and she goes about trying to do this while touching him as little as possible. But she finds that as more time goes on, the more willing he is to let her come near him. His allowances had started as just the occasional brush with fabric between them, and now, not much later in the night, he is letting her slide his jacket off his shoulders, unbutton his shirt. She pushes the thought of “why?” away. This trust isn’t real, and it shouldn’t unnerve her.

She gets it done as soon as possible, stripping him to his bottom layers but leaving on any undergarments. Better to leave some sense of dignity for when he wakes from this state. She does not know the specifics of the spell but she does remember the subject tends to keep most of their memories. He’ll remember exactly how trusting he was, how willing he was, how afraid he was. He’ll remember it all in excruciating detail. She guides him to step into the tub, crouching by the edge as he lowers himself down into the steaming water.

She snatches a rag and a bar of soap from where they were left on the floor beside the tub, holds it in front of herself for a moment. Shs shakes her head, if he couldn’t put on boots by himself, he sure as hell can’t wash himself.

Moving as quick as she can without startling Percival, she removes her coat and rolls her sleeves up past her elbows. He’s looking at her again, and this time, she avoids his eyes. Why? She isn’t quite sure but everything about this feels wrong. She knows that if she were in his position, she would want somebody to clean her but how is she to know if he would want the same. It doesn’t feel right. She pushes away the thought once again, apologizing out loud as she wets the washcloth and lathers the bar of soap against it.

He just watches.

She gathers so many small details about him from this interaction. As she cleans his skin, she finds that under the grime, he is porcelain pale. Paler than her and Vax, the kind of pale that shines under light and seems to glow in the dark. But on that pale skin are a multitude of scars. At first, she writes the scars off as just accidents, maybe from childhood, maybe from the hazard of whatever his occupation is. But the more she finds, the less she is able to write them off. When she reaches his chest, she swallows, averting her eyes. Covered in scars. Same on his back. She washes them clean, trying to ignore their presence but she finds herself tracking them. Keeping track of where they are clustered on his body. Most of the more severe ones reside on his chest and back. But she finds many others scattered around. She tries not to dwell too much.

As she’s finishing with his body, she carefully scoops water in her hands and pours it over his head, trying to avoid his face. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind when water trickles down his face, though Vex makes sure to take his glasses. She continues with that process, finding that his hair is much more coated in mud and dirt than what she had originally thought. It’s coated, matted, definitely intentionally so. Like somebody, perhaps Percival himself, had covered the original color in an attempt to disguise himself. As she works to clean off the dried mud, she finds the strangest thing. The hair underneath isn’t brown as she’d originally thought, nor is it blonde, or even red, it’s white. Shock white. Sea shell white. She frowns as the color starts to appear more clearly, the mud finally coming loose. White.

The more she interacts with Percival, the more strange he seems. The hair. The scars. The odd weapon. The more she’s becoming worried, for him and for herself. But he cannot provide an explanation, so she doesn’t ask. Simply continues cleaning him up until the water is cloudy but his hair is white as a lily and his body is scrubbed clean.

She helps him, dripping, out of the tub and wraps a towel around his shoulders. He’s still looking at her, silent and eager. She guides him over to the fireplace, sits him down in front of the fire to dry off before she helps him dress. She’s tired, and just wants this to be over. Just wants to stop feeling guilty for making this man trust him in his most vulnerable state.

She sits on the bed, watching him quietly. It’s been a long day and she just wants to rest but can’t until he falls asleep. She has to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. Then again, the door is locked and he definitely doesn’t know how locks work. If she leaves him be, she’s sure he’ll fall asleep soon enough but she should watch him, right? She’s feeling more and more like a babysitter. That’s really what she is at this point, isn’t it. He trusts no one else. He looks to her like a guardian. She sighs, letting her eyes flutter closed. She should stay awake. She should stay-

When she opens her eyes, the sun is streaming through the window. The early morning sun rays cast a gray-yellow light over her entire room. She shoots to her feet, blinking her eyes rapidly as everything starts to come into focus. Dammit. She knew she shouldn’t have let herself fall asleep, he could have burned himself on the fire, he could’ve figured out the lock, could’ve opened the window, could’ve-

Her eyes come into focus and see the figure lying in front of the dying embers of the fire, exactly where she left him last night. He’s curled up in front of the fireplace, his weapon loosely held in his hand, head tucked against his elbow. She lets out a sigh of relief. What a babysitter she’d be, if she lost the person she’s supposed to be watching on the first night. Hopefully, last night. She goes over to Percival and gently prods his bare shoulder where the towel has slipped away. Guilt pangs in her chest, he’s still undressed. It’s a good thing it isn’t cold at night this time of year or he might’ve gotten sick.

“Percival.” she murmurs. “Come on, it’s time to get you healed.”

His eyes flutter open, confusion first and then are overtaken by relief at the sight of her. She smiles back at him, happy that he’s happy. He looks better today, cleaner for one, and stronger too. Less afraid. But maybe that’s just because he’s alone and it’s quiet.

“Let’s get you dressed.” she says, helping him up. She grabs the clothing off the floor and shakes it to get rid of what dirt and dust settled on it overnight. First, she struggles to help him into the pants, but gets it done as fast as possible. She’s never really done this before and finds it a tad ridiculous to struggle so but moves on from her embarrassment quickly. It’s not his fault he can’t do it himself. Next, the shirt. This is easier. The buttons take awhile to finesse, her fingers are clumsier when trying to do them on somebody else but soon he’s all dressed, coat on his shoulders, glasses on his nose.

“Very refined.” she says with a smile.

He just beams back at her, his hair even whiter in the daylight. She wants more than anything for him to be out of this Feeblemind. She leads him out the door and through the hall, winding her way downstairs until she gets to the main part of the tavern where she’s surprised to find many of her party already there. All they’re missing is Vax. Percival stays close to her side, especially now that there are more than just the other members of Vox Machina in the bar area. But she was right, this morning he has calmed slightly. Whereas last night he would’ve broken down completely from all of the different senses being used, and the amount of people around, he is now just shakily holding onto her arm and staying immeasurably close.

“Your little friend cleans up nice.” Grog says, looking at them both. Percival shrinks back from his huge form, understandably so. Grog is not exactly palatable to those who are especially fearful.

“I talked to the bartender,” Pike pipes up from a stool at the bar. “He says that the healer further in town could take care of him.” “Wonderful.” Vex sighs. “We’ll head there right away. I think it’s better if not all of us go, but I don’t want to go by myself just in case anything goes wrong, familiar faces to him maybe. Keyleth? Pike?”

Both women agree to go, and with a promise of a breakfast for Vex and Percival when they get back, they’re about ready to go.

“Oh, before I leave,” Vex says. “Where’s my brother? He’s usually up by now.” “He’s sulking.” Grog answers. “Something about you, I’m pretty sure. He’s quiet and broody when he’s upset with you.” “Yes, I know.” she grimaces, before walking with Keyleth, Pike, and Percival out of the tavern and out onto the bustling street. Percival huddles against her shoulder, even closer than he was yesterday. Pike has the directions to the healer’s home, she says according to the bartender it’s close enough to walk. Which should be a relief, but Percival significantly slows their pace. He stumbles at the cobblestones, flinches at every passerby, struggles against Vex’s grip when people get too close. She wishes she didn’t have to hold him so close, it feels like a violation of some sort, but if she didn’t, it’s apparent he would break away from them, go hide in the dark the way he was in the prison. He seeks out solace in Vex and Vex alone, everything seems to cause him to flinch, to whimper, to cry out. It pains her to put anyone through this, but finally, they reach the healer’s home. It looks suspiciously like a normal building, made of red brick and with a large oak wood door. Pike saunters up to that door, raising her little hand to knock on the door. There’s a long pause, before the door swings open and they’re faced by an old, elvish woman wearing a nightgown.

“What in hells are you doing here?” The woman's voice is scratchy, her hair gray and frizzy. Knowing how slowly elves age, she must be hundreds of years old in order to appear as if could keel over at any moment. Her nightgown also appears to be old, worn and ripping in places. Vex suddenly has a little less faith that this healer will be able to cure Percival.

“Uh- we’re here for some help.” Pike’s voice is soft, as it usually is. “Our friend is in need of some assistance.”

The woman narrows her eyes at Keyleth, Vex, and Percival, before pointing a long finger at Percival. He shrinks even farther back from them, he’s by far the tallest person in this group, counting the elf woman, but he doesn’t seem like it when he’s bunching up his shoulders, trying to appear as small as possible.

“That one.” she says.

“Yes.” Vex says. “It’s Feeblemind. Can you fix him?”

The woman sniffs, then gestures for them to follow as she turns around and walks on unsteady feet back into the house. For some reason Vex thought a healer, no matter how old, would appear a little less… sickly. But they all follow her inside anyway. The home is small, even more so from the inside, every surface is cluttered and the walls are covered top to bottom in shelves. Some of which are filled with books, but many of which are just laden with trinkets and baubles and other small colorful things. The whole place smells like chamomile, herbs waft from every direction, the combination of smells seems like it should be overwhelming in the sheer quantity of it but it’s actually a quite calming mixture. It seems to put them all at ease; Percival’s shoulders relax slightly, Keyleth clutches her staff a little less tightly. They follow the elf through her home and into the farthest room down the hall, a kitchenette of sorts. It’s very small, containing only a small dining table that could seat two, maybe three people, a stove with a kettle on it, and several shelves, some of which have silverware and dishes in them. The woman is already pouring them tea.

“Uh- what’s your name, miss?” Keyleth asks.

“Lyth.” the woman answers, passing out little teacups and saucers, sloshing some of the tea in the process. The water was obviously not hot enough, so in all of their hands, they’re holding lukewarm cups of weak tea that no one wants to drink. Keyleth takes a few polite sips before placing it back on the table.

“So,” Vex says after a few beats of silence. “You can fix Percival?”

“What? Oh yes.” she waves a hand absently, as if it’s not important at all at this moment.

“Well, then do it.” she puts her little teacup down on the table a little harder than necessary, splashing warm water over her hand and onto the saucer. “That’s why we came here, we don’t need tea.” Lyth grumbles under her breath, Vex only catches a few words but she can piece together to be something about “no manners” and “young people”. She chooses to ignore it. “Yes, yes, stand please.”

Vex begins to stand up before Lyth pushes her back down into her chair roughly by the shoulders, “not you, him!” Mouth agape, Vex twists around to look at Percival, who is shrinking away with the woman, especially after seeing her put hands on Vex and the sound of her voice. “It’s okay, dear, just let her.”

He meets her eyes and she nods, this moment between them where he isn’t paying attention gives Lyth enough time to place her hands on his chest. Percival jerks roughly, trying to pull away as hard as he can, but Lyth is surprisingly strong, managing to keep him in place as the spell starts to work its way through his body. Golden light emits from her hands, spreading through him starting with his chest and then going up to his neck, to his arms, to the very tips of his fingers. For half a second, he is completely aglow before the spell dissipates in a puff of golden mist.

There is silence, silence, silence, before Lyth steps away, and says, “who’s paying me then?”

“Uh, we will. Come on, Kiki.” Pike takes Keyleth's hand and follows Lyth out of the room. The sentiment is clear, Vex had been the one that had been trusted, she had been the one he had clung to, and she is probably the one he would want to speak to first out of his Feebleminded state.

“Hello.” she says, turning her body completely towards him. He’s still got his head ducked, chest rising and falling rather quickly. As she waits, she lets her gaze wander from where his face will appear to the rest of him. His body language has immediately changed. His fist is clenched under the table. His shoulders aren’t bunched but neither are they relaxed, they’re stiff, held tight to give the illusion of relaxation. He keeps his feet flat on the floor, whereas the Feebleminded Percival would often tuck his feet under himself, or hook his feet behind the chair legs. He’s… different. She takes all of this in, gaze searching him and then returning to his face, in just a moment or two. And it only takes that long for him to lift his face and look at her.

He licks his lips, and she waits in anticipation. “Hello.”

She can’t help but let a smile bleed through. His voice is… what is she to say, it’s his voice. It matches everything about him in a way she cannot explain. It just does.

She holds out a hand. “I’m Vex’ahlia.”

He finally meets her eyes. Those blue eyes… they’re different now. They’re colder. Far, far removed from the trusting openness she has experienced for the past twelve hours. Gods, has it only been twelve hours? It felt like days. She couldn’t have expected him to be the same, of course, Feeblemind reduces you to something that is not yourself, you are not under control of yourself nor your emotions. He is not the same. But it still causes her a little pain to immediately see that he no longer trusts her, even if she expected it. She will just have to try to earn it again.

“Percival.” he takes her hand, she notes right away that his palms are rough, calloused. Another strange detail. “You can call me Percy.” “Percy.” she repeats. “It’s nice to meet you, Percy.”

He nods. “It’s good to meet you, too.”

It’s a good thing, she thinks, to act as if this is their first meeting. Because in the end, the Percival she had interacted with was not the real one. Just a watered down, cursed version.

They both open their mouths to speak at the same time, Vex snaps hers shut, gesturing for him to continue.

“I- uh- thank you.” he says, voice quiet and hesitant. As if he doesn’t know how to do this. “For all that you did while I was… you were good to me and I thank you. I don’t think I can properly express my gratitude.”

“You’re very welcome.” she says with a nod. “It was my pleasure.”

He gives a half smile to her, his expression guarded and removed. It’d be a lie if she said that it doesn’t sadden her that he’s suddenly so far away but she lets it go, lets the sadness drift away in a moment. It does not and should not matter what she is feeling, when he was under such a spell.

“Who did that to you?” she asks finally, the question that’s been bouncing around in her mind since finding him in that prison. “How did you find yourself in such a situation?”

Percy hums under his breath, eyes wandering as he seems to be thinking. “It was my own fault, I was careless. And I won’t allow it to happen again. That’s all that really needs to be said.”

Vex would beg to differ but she already suspects this is an argument which she cannot win, that she shouldn’t even try to engage for there would be no point to it. He has already been so exposed to her, physically and emotionally, he deserves this autonomy and dignity. He can close himself off to her, to everyone, she doesn’t care.

“Thank you for keeping my gun.” Percy's voice cuts through her thoughts, she follows his hand to where it’s resting on his waist. Right over the metal contraption. He touches it with the same comfort he had when under the Feeblemind, she had been right, it’s obviously important to him. Something he touches when he’s unsure of where to put his hands. Something he holds for comfort. That all transfers over from Percival to Percy.

“Ah, that’s what it’s called, then.” she says, eyeing it from her seat. “I wondered… what is it exactly?”

He taps the handle of the gun absently. “It’s- difficult to explain. Think of it like a bow and arrow, but more… mechanical. Compact. You’ll get a demonstration someday, I’m sure.”

That doesn’t help her but she nods along, and eventually she rises, “we should head back to the tavern.”

“I-” he hesitates to stand, she can understand why. He was never meant to come into town, he was never meant to meet Vox Machina. Them and him could’ve easily missed each other in every other reality, but now their lives have collided in a way that has entangled them together and Vex is not sure how to disentangle it. Or if she even wants to.

“Come have a drink with us, darling.” she finds herself saying. “Just one. Then you can get us out of your hair.”

This decision of his, this agreement to one (just one!) drink is probably the one that damned him. One drink became many, one night became hundreds. It’s not his fault. The threads of their lives became so tangled and nobody ever seemed to try and untie the knots. They just let it happen. He never really realizes just how much he has let her become a part of him until she’s gone, and then returns. Until he goes, and then returns. Eventually, he comes clean. Eventually, he tells them exactly which evil woman gave him those scars, took away his mind, and locked him in a jail. Eventually, he learns to trust.

He tries to forget about the circumstances of their meeting. It’s difficult, as the other members of their party are often so insistent about teasing him. But he brushes it off, too embarrassed of how he acted, of how he presented himself with so little care. After a while, they have new memories to associate with him, new things to tease him about, that they seem to let go the way he was when they met. He doesn’t speak of it. Neither does Vex. at least not until it is years later. He’s sitting on a bed, on their bed, and it’s almost as if he comes to. As if he is waking up from a very, very long sleep.

“Vex?” “Hm, yes, dear?” she replies from where she is leaning over the desk that’s against the wall of their room in Whitestone. In his home. She’s scribbling at papers, sorting out some last minute numbers before bed. She’s dressed in a nightgown, her hair loose and falling over her shoulders. She’s beautiful.

“Do you remember when we met?” she stops writing, freezing in place. They never really speak of it. Only when Ripley is a part of the conversation do they even think of it, and they never talk about Ripley either. It’s an unspoken rule. Percy doesn’t like to hear about it, to think about it, to speak of it.

“Of course.” she says finally, putting down her pen.

“And the way I was?” “Yes. You were Feebleminded.”

“And you helped me.” She doesn’t say anything for a long time, just leans back in her chair and looks at him. “I did.” “Why did you? Help me, I mean.”

This, too, takes a longer than normal amount of time to reply to. Vex is quick, silver tongued, and prides herself on being able to outwit anyone she comes up against. It says more than a lot that she is thinking about her answer with so much care, taking the time to arrange her words in her mind before speaking them aloud.

“It wasn't out of pity.” she finally says, slowly.

“Wonderful start, dear.” he says with a laugh.

“Oh, shush, I’m thinking.

“I was… I don’t know, truly, Percy. I think I was lonely. And something in me couldn’t let you go.” she pulls one of her knees up to her chest, leaning her cheek against it as she stares off into the distance as she speaks. “I thought about it then and I’ve thought about it ever since. My brother bothered me about it and I never came up with a sufficient answer. I saw you, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t turn my back on you.” “It wasn’t love at first sight, then?” “Percival, I’m trying to be sweet and you’re making this very difficult.” she stands and goes to him, places her hand on either side of his face. She smiles down at him, and in this moment, as he thinks about what she had said, he understands. Never, in any life, can he imagine leaving her to the wolves, turning his back on her. Even if his memory was wiped clean, if they did not know each other, he wants to believe he’d do the same. Now, years later, he still remembers what it was like being under the Feeblemind. Fear. Lights everywhere. Voices ten times louder than they’d usually be. It was a sensory assault from every direction, and he was so scared. Everything hurt and all he wanted was to crawl into the dark even though that scared him too. But there, in the center of it all, was Vex. A calm in the storm. The only reason he crawled out of the dark. The only reason he removed his mask.

“You’ve got a strange look.” Vex comments, her thumbs brush under his eyes softly.

“I’m only thinking,” he says. “I love you, Vex.”

She smiles, a warm smile that reaches all the way to her eyes. “I know. And I love you, Percy.”

She leans down to place a kiss on his forehead. And he thinks he has never been more awake before this moment. Maybe he has been half awake for as long as he can remember. Maybe his mind has still been addled by the Feeblemind until right now. He is whole, awake, alive, in love. It’s more than he had ever hoped for.

#I WROTE A FIC??? WHO AM I?????#critical role #critical role campaign 1 #cr c1 #cr campaign 1 #critical role fic #percival de rolo #vex’ahlia de rolo #perc'halia #cr vex #cr percy #percy x vex #vaxildan #fanfic #fanfiction #this is like the fic I've been wanting to write FOREVER and im SO glad I finally did it #im so happy with how it turned out!! I hope yall like it too!!!

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superfrumpkin · 3 years

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WORTH IT.

Read it on AO3

You always knew this day would come. In fact, you knew you had many of them ahead of you. And yet, when your necklace starts glowing, you feel the dread creeping up, the fear of finding out who's turn it was.

As if she could hear you, Pike's broken voice comes through in your mind: "Kiki, it's Grog. Please, come to Whitestone".

As quickly as you could, you let your father know, open up a portal, and you're out of the Sun Tree. Vex'ahlia, tears in her eyes, and Percy, holding her by the shoulders, are waiting for you there.

You hug them both tight, and you head to Sarenrae's temple, where Pike and Scanlan are standing beside a lifeless Grog.

He looks peaceful. His hulking form isn't menacing with his eyes closed, and his mouth so relaxed. It was time.

You let a few tears fall, hold the gnomes, and you have a small service for the goliath.

You then head to a tavern and drink his beloved ale in his honor, reminiscing of all the good times.

"To Grog Strongjaw, Grand Poobah de Doink of All This and That" a slightly drunk Percy shouts "a great fighter and an even greater friend!"

"To Grog!" You all cheer.

Just as the day begun, it comes to a close. You're all tipsy, and teary eyed. You say your goodbyes and head back to Zephrah, your heart a little heavy.

You carve a space for a cup of ale next to the shrine to the Raven Queen, and head to sleep.

A few years go by, you visit Whitestone from time to time, get to see all the De Rolos grow up, share a knowing smirk with Percy when Cassandra finally introduces her girlfriend to all of you.

You participate to all the great events, the weddings, the births, the tearful final goodbyes to your allies.

Allura introduces you and the Tal'Dorei council to a group of colorful individuals from Wildemount, called the Mighty Nein (but there's eight of them? No one says it but you all think it), who apparently had saved the World and managed to let it go undetected.

You recognize them from your mother's stories, they are the ones who brought her back to you.

You thank them profusely, and you catch the redhead wizard blush as the white haired drow next to him smiles and rubs his shoulder, and stifle laughter knowingly when you see the dark skinned woman, the pale and tall one who was holding her hand and the blue tiefling all looking at Vex with their mouth open. The yellow clad halfling smacks them subtly as their half orc friend politely smiles at all of you.

It's funny, you knew the feeling of being caught staring at Vex'ahlia very well.

You see Percy grow a beard that makes him look older and cheer loudly alongside Vesper when with an excited "Auntie Keyleth, look!" she druidcrafts a snowdrop in her hands.

A few years later, as you're tending to the needs of your people, the necklace pulsates again. You have a suspicion this time, and your heart clenches.

Coming out of the Sun Tree once again, you can see the whole atmosphere is somber. Black flags with the Whitestone crest glowing gold wave in the breeze, falling from the Castle's large windows.

You lean against the Tree that's become like a friend to you.

"Hey, Keyleth. It's quite the sad day. I can feel the grief of the whole city in my roots."

Tears fall and you ask what you already know.

"It's Percy,isn't it?"

"It is. You might want to go to Lady Vex. I know she might need you."

You find them once again, gathered in the temple. The De Rolos are surrounding their mother, who's sobbing loudly. You'd seen her this broken only once before, for her brother.

Only this time, it was your brother, laying limp and quiet, with Pike performing the last rites.

You see Taryon held by Lawrence in the large crowd, but you make a beeline to Vex.

"Mom, aunt Keyleth is here," Vesper whispers.

Trinket is next to her of course, whining in pain too.

Vex'ahlia opens her bloodshot eyes, looks at you briefly and runs into your arms.

You feel her pain, all of it. You try to convey everything you can in that hug.

I'm here. I know. I feel it too. I've felt it too. She holds you like you're the last thing keeping her standing. And you hold her like she held you many years before.

Drinks are had, words and stories are shared. You decide to stay at the Castle one more night, you let Korrin know through Pike.

Everything goes quiet. In the dead of night, you hear a knock at the door of your guest room. You already know who's going to be on the other side, and yet when you open it and the dim candles show a shattered Vex'ahlia, her cheeks wet with tears, her eyes sunken with exhaustion, your heart aches.

"Keyleth..." she says with a barely audible whisper.

No more words are needed. You let her fall into your arms, and hold her through the night, let her sob in your arms until she passes out.

Eventually, you fall asleep too.

Vex gives you the raven skull you made for him before you leave, and you make sure to place it next to the mug of ale, with a pocket watch.

Years keep passing by, you see Vesper's magic thrive and see the proud look in her mother's eyes. You know you must share that same look. You see her become every bit of the leader Percy was, with her mother's wits and her father's strong willpower.

Eventually you have to go to Deastock and say goodbye to Taryon, that's another hard hit on Vex. He was her best friend.

This time you carve the logo of his Brigade in what has become the Vox Machina tree in Zephrah.

You and Vex grow closer. She reminds you of him in so many ways, and yet she's so different. A few wrinkles are starting to appear near her eyes, but as you keep observing her, she's never been more beautiful.

Many things start to become usual occurrences, like you visiting the Castle, and her coming to Zephrah with the help of her daughter.

Everytime you see each other, it seems like the pieces start falling back together.

One day, as regular as any other, you're watching the sun setting on your tribe and you catch her looking at you intensely.

"You're so beautiful, darling."

You're taken aback. She doesn't give you time to reply. Without even being able to register it, her mouth is on yours, and her hand is in your hair.

You'd lie if you said you hadn't ever dreamed of this.

Suddenly, she stops, touching her lips in shock "Keyleth, I'm so-" this time you cut her off, shaking your head and catching her sorry with your mouth.

You're not sorry. You're glad she did that. You would have never had the guts to make the first move. And Gods, her lips are so soft, her hands tangle in your hair and you don't know what to do, but bask in the comfort her body pressed against yours gives you.

She must be feeling something similar, cause her breath becomes shallow as she whispers "Key" in between kisses.

That night you make love and it's sweet, and calm and slow, nothing like you thought Vex would be. You both needed this so bad, you know you've loved her for a long time and if only an ounce of her felt the same, you'd be happy with it.

Waking up next to her is nothing short of magical. She's peacefully sleeping, her dark, naked back warmly lit by the sunrise creeping in. You softly brush your fingers along her spine, and her eyelids flutter to reveal warm hazel irises, looking at you with a small smile. Your breath catches.

"I love you," you whisper, unable to keep it in anymore.

Her smile widens. She kisses you and your heart races fast when she says "I love you too, Keyleth," brushing your noses together.

You feel happier than you've been in a long time.

Life goes on between Zephrah and Whitestone, you both have responsibilities you can't run from.

You say your last goodbyes to Allura, and shortly after Kima, who are buried together as they always asked.

Once Vesper is ready to take the helms of Whitestone, Vex decides that it's maybe time to leave, not without hesitation.

"Mom, go. I get it,okay? We will visit all the time, you won't even have time to miss us".

Vex gives her a teary laugh, kisses her forehead, and with an "I'm so proud of you" she comes to Zephrah with you.

Korrin and Vilya treat her like their own, and you look at her in adoration when she tells you they're like the parents she always wanted.

Vesper keeps her promise, and the De Rolos come visit all the time. You don't catch when Percy IV, their youngest, calls you mama, but Vex does and maybe sheds one little happy tear.

Zephrah is always buzzing with life, thriving under Keyleth's leadership, and Vex's advice.

Their necklaces glow once more, and they know it's time to say goodbye to Scanlan this time.

Kaylie plays a sorrowful piece in honor of her father, as you and Vex hold Pike. They both know what it's like to lose a soulmate.

As always you gather in the tavern and share stories of Scanlan the bard.

"He died as he lived," Kaylie raises her cup "hard and fast!"

You all share a teary laugh and get drunk as you say goodbye to another friend.

You show Vex the Vox Machina tree for the first time in years, as you carve a space for a miniature shawm.

She holds you as you both look at the Raven Queen's shrine.

"I hope they're all together," Vex whispers. "I hope he doesn't hate me for this," she chuckles and kisses your cheek.

Just as she says that, as if out of nowhere, a large raven lands between you two on Vex's shoulder. It nuzzles her.

"I guess you have your answer," you smile and scratch the top of the raven's head. It leans in your hand.

Life goes on, the kids aren't kids anymore, Vesper leads Whitestone fiercely, you say goodbye to Gilmore a couple of years after Allura and Kima, but you have each other to lean on.

One day, Vex feels too tired to get out of bed and Trinket lets out a long groan.

You quickly message Pike, who comes to Zephrah with the children.

She does a quick scan of her body and confirms what you already know.

There's nothing wrong with your Vex, nature is claiming her. It's time to say goodbye.

A sob wracks your body, you knew it was coming. You saw the wrinkles getting more prominent and her hair going gray with the passing of years, but it still hurt to know.

You can never be ready.

You let the kids say their goodbyes, not wanting to intrude on such an intimate moment.

When your turn comes you try to be strong, but your heart is in too much pain.

She lays a hand on your now wet cheek, and strokes it with her thumb, wiping away some tears. "Kiki..." her flebile whisper is full of love.

"I don't know if I can do this without you,too".

"Of course you can. You're strong, and caring, and kind. Your people rely on you. You don't need me to succeed. I will always love you, Key. I will always be with you. Far, but never gone, remember?"

You kiss her hand.

"I love you. You're every bit as beautiful as the day I first met you."

You lean over her to kiss her lips, and with a smile, she lets out her last breath.

You can't help but hold onto her a little longer.

Trinket plops down next to you and lays his head on Vex's stomach, breathing heavily.

You know he must be close as well.

You clutch his fur, as he breathes one last time, too.

All the kids and Pike kneel down to hold you, and together, you mourn the loss of Lady Vex'ahlia.

You take her blue feathers, tie them on your staff, with the black ones you had from Vax.

In the tree, you leave the tip of an arrow, and one of the pink bows you and Vax once put on the bear.

The De Rolos go back to Whitestone, Pike spends some days with you.

It will take a long time to heal, but you have plenty of that.

You'll outlive them all, it's your tragic destiny, you signed up for it. It doesn't hurt any less.

Pike is of course the next one to go, the worshippers of the Everlight all gather to say goodbye to her Champion, you look around and see just how many lives Pike's kindness had touched. It's beautiful.

Your tree has another spot, with the symbol of Sarenrae and a miniature mace.

You carve one last spot on the tree, that you know won't be filled for many years still.

You leave instructions for your antlers to placed there.

You're thankful to have your parents by your side, as the days blur together.

Eventually you feel happiness again, when Vesper brings her firstborn to you and you get to see new life blossom in every corner of your tribe, the Ashari growing and leaning on you, the love on your mother's face and the pride on your father's.

Years, and years, and years pass but you never forget them, not once, not for a second.

Vax'ildan, with his smirk and his daggers, and his wings that held you in safety. Your first love. Forever and ever and always.

Vex'ahlia, matching smirk on softer lips, the best of hagglers, witty and beautiful and quick with her arrows. The lover you got to keep. The lover that got you through.

Percival, your very best friend, your brother and partner in crime, a quick draw, the smartest of you. A loving husband and father, a fierce leader.

Grog, big and strong with a heart of gold, with his smile and fun in fights and taverns, his gentle hands with small creatures. Not the smartest, but still one who thought you so much.

Scanlan, the embodiment of fun and laughter, always ready to pick everyone up and help out, cheering and inspiring with his voice and his charm.

Pike, the kindest of spirits, her heart bigger than her small frame could ever contain, sweet and loving like a mother to all.

Taryon, flamboyant and fun, with his desire to be accepted and his mind full of ideas, always accompanied by his thousands versions of Doty, faithful companion.

Trinket, friend of Vox Machina, her Vex's best friend, as much of a member as everyone else.

You never forget any of them. You feared it would happen after meeting Sprigg, it felt like looking in a mirror of your future.

But you keep them in your heart until you're old and gray, tell your stories to your tribe, make sure they are spread across the world so that Vox Machina may never be forgotten.

As you close your eyes for the last time, you dream of them and hope that the Raven Queen will be kind enough to let you see them once more.

On the other side, what you see surprises you. It's them, all of them. Vax, with his wings spread, in the middle, smiling bright. Vex is next to him, looking like the day you met. None of them is old and gray. Percy's hair is even black, rid of the stress and weight of the world.

Pike's hair is black as well, like the day you first called her to help you with Grog.

Everyone looks young, and happy. You feel yourself crying. As you look down, you notice your hair are long and flowing, a fierce red.

"You did so well, princess." Vex'ahlia winks at you, and you suddenly feel surrounded by all your family's arms.

You smile in the cuddle pile, think back to your adventures, and realize that everything was worth it, after all.

#vox machina #vexleth #i made some people cry on twitter and thought #eh why not do it on tumblr too #vex'ahlia #keyleth #critical role #cr fic #vm fic

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ravenquing · 3 years

Text

I'm never gonna properly write for it, but I keep imagining this AU where Percy is an ex-gang member of Vecna's gang.

Maybe Percy killed someone important to Vecna or he stole money, idk, but he's on the run and shit comes back to bite him in the ass.

(This has been inspired by the song "You Can Run" by Adam Jones, btw, as I've had it on repeat for 2 days now)

So uh, here, I guess. Feel free to take this and make into something more solid -

Percy comes from a wealthy family that went into debt. To try and help his parents, Percy looks for work and finds himself being recruited into a gang ran by an intimidating man known only as Vecna.

Vecna's right hand woman, Delilah Briarwood, and her husband, Sylas Briarwood, take a quick likening to Percy and introduce him to their adoptive daughter, Anna.

Anna and Percy make fast friends, until one day Percy catches Anna betraying the gang's plans to another gang.

Percy confronts her alone, thinking he can handle it, but a fight breaks out and Anna gets shot in the abdomen.

Percy panics, trying to stop the bleeding, but Delilah walks in and all hell breaks out.

Percy has to run and he does, running faster than he ever has before in all his life.

He moves to a different city, laying low and doing odd jobs to keep himself afloat.

One day he runs into Keyleth, a young florist struggling to make ends meet, being harassed by some idiot. He defends her, quite publicly too, and is spotted by one of Vecna's many members.

And thus, Percy accidentally gets Keyleth targeted by Vecna's gang.

Cue Vax'ildan, Keyleth's boyfriend and also a former gang member (who also left on bad terms with his old boss) turned tattoo artist, chasing Percy down thinking he's put a hit out on Keyleth.

When he realises Percy's situation, tho, he feels like helping the poor bastard out. He knows what this is like.

Through this, Percy meets Vax's sister and an esteemed defence attorney, Vex'ahlia.

Soon, the men after Keyleth disappear mysteriously and things calm down for Percy.

Percy falls hard for Vex, fast, while she and Vax help him change his identity and disappear from Vecna's gaze.

Percy becomes a mechanic, becomes friends with the twins and Keyleth as well as his fellow mechanics, Grog, Tary and Pike, even with Pike's husband Scanlan.

Life gets really good;

Percy & Vex start dating, Vax & Keyleth get engaged and Taryon gets a boyfriend.

But then Percy slips up somehow, takes the wrong driver's license while out one day running errands and one of Vecna's spies see it, call it in.

Percy is followed home.

Then, during the night, Percy and Vex wake up to several armed intruders who don't seem to like Percy very much.

"Percy... Friends of yours?"

"Friends isn't the word I'd use."

Then Vecna swaggers in, grinning, baseball bat in hand.

Percy feels his world crashing down around him as he and Vex are manhandled out of bed to be tied up by Vecna's men.

"Percival, long time no see, it's been a while."

"I was hoping it'd stay that way, personally."

"Ahah, oh, dear Percival, quite the funnyman as always."

Then the baseball bat just narrowly misses Percy's face, crashing into the bed behind him instead, Vex screams.

"Don't mistake this as a social call, my friend, this is but business. No, you know exactly what I'm here for."

Vecna steps near Vex.

"Leave Vex out of this! It's me you want, not her!"

"Ah, but such a pretty thing, just like her brother... Would be a shame if anything happened to either of them, no? The boy just got engaged, didn't he?"

"Leave my brother out of this, you bastard!"

Vex's demand met only by laughter, her anger outweighing her fear.

Percy, shaking, terrified for his girlfriend and her twin, for all of their friends-

"What do you want?! I'll do whatever it is, just leave my family out of it!"

"Ah, ever the smart man, Perce! You took something of mine, however, so I must take something of yours... Insurance, to make sure you cooperate, you could say..."

"We don't have much in the way of money or valuables-"

"Ah, but I'm not after things of material value, Percy. No. I want you to have some... Motivation! You know... To do as I say, when I say?"

"Please, leave Vex out of this, I'm begging you!"

Percy, scared for his love, scared of what Vax would do if she got hurt because of him-

"Ah, but she's not it either, as I already have my insurance, Percival - Though, a matching set would fetch a far prettier price should you fail to live up to expectations, my boy."

"No! Leave Vax alone!"

"He killed my men, it's only fair I take him as punishment."

Percy hadn't know what Vax had done back then to save his sorry ass, but he feels sick knowing Vax did what he did because of him.

And hearing the devastation in Vex's voice is the final nail in Percy's coffin here, knowing Vax's life is in danger now.

"Alright! Alright! Whatever it is, I'll do it! Just please, don't hurt Vax! Or anyone else!"

Vecna laughs.

"A little late for that, your good friend put up quite the fight and my men may of had a little fun beating him down."

"You bastard! I'll kill you!"

"Oh, Vex'ahlia darling, I'd like to see you try, my girl."

"You fucking asshole!"

Percy, staring in horror at Vex as she hollers and shouts at Vecna, threatening the man.

Vex, furious and shaking, thrashing around to escape.

Vecna just keeps laughing.

"Maybe I'll keep the boy as my personal punching bag, or I could sell him to the highest bidder? What do you think?"

"I think you're making the biggest mistake of your life!"

"Or perhaps I can hand him to the Briarwoods, what do you think, Percy? Maybe that would take their minds off of you murdering their sweet Anna. Sylas has been wanting a pet to play with and Delilah could use another lab rat"

And Percy goes pale.

"She didn't make it?"

"What else is it did you think I meant by you taking something from me? The girl was smart and promising, Perce, the loss is felt."

"I didn't want to kill her, I swear! But she was up to something! I needed to know what it was!"

"Are you suggesting that a long standing and much trusted family member was planning on betraying her family and her gang? Oh, Percival..."

And Vecna shakes his head, tutting and sighing.

"I thought you were smarter than that."

"I'm telling the truth!"

Percy can't look at Vex right now, can't think of what she must be feeling right now.

Everything he's worked for, ruined in minutes.

"Well, in any case, you still owe me a favour... Unless you'd rather we just get this over with and I have Sylas execute the brother instead?"

"No!!"

And Percy balks.

"No! No! Leave him alone! I'll do whatever it is you want!"

"Good, because I really do like that boy, he has fire in him."

"Just... What is it? What must I do to make this go away?"

"I have a friend, a fellow by the name of Orthax, and he's been crossed by some folks... He needs them taken care of."

"You want me to become an assassin for you?"

Percy feels sick.

Vex is gaping in horror.

"It's just 8 people, Percy, and then this is all over."

"You can promise that?"

"I can guarantee it, my friend, and I never break promises."

"Who are they?"

"In due time, in due time... Now, we're going to untie you before we go, please don't do anything... Rash. I'd hate to have to kill you or your beloved, or her brother at that."

Percy and Vex tense, but stay quiet and let themselves be untied, staying still.

"Good, excellent. I'll leave the list on your dresser along with your new gun... Orthax made it just for you, be appreciative."

"Do I have a time limit?"

"Let's say... You have two weeks, then I'll give away the brother to either my best people or to the highest bidder - Depends on how I'm feeling on the day, you understand?"

"It'll be done before then, I can assure you that."

"So they all say, Percival."

And with that, Vecna and his men start to leave, but then Vecna pauses at the doorway.

"Oh, and, Percy? Don't trying running away again - I mean, I don't mind it, run all you like... But just remember, you can't hide. I'll always find you."

"Trust me, I'm aware."

"Good... Have a good night."

And with that, the couple are left kneeling on their bedroom floor, crying and shaking.

Percy stands first, heading for the list and weapon.

Vex stands next, sitting on their bed, fuming silently.

Then Percy gags and drops the list before running out.

"Perce?"

She gets up, swallowing.

Who did Percy have to murder just so Vax wouldn't be killed or whatever? How bad was it?

Who was to be killed in change for Vax's very life?

She bends down and picks the sheet of paper up, turning it over and reading the names;

Frederickstein de Rolo

Johanna de Klossowski

Julius de Rolo

Vesper de Rolo

Oliver de Rolo

Whitney de Rolo

Ludwig de Rolo

Cassandra de Rolo

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waltwhitmansbeard · 1 year

Note

Also 💀("near death experience") for a platonic Vax and Scanlan, please?

Send me emoji(s) and I'll write a drabble

As Vox Machina makes its way through Castle Whitestone toward the undercroft, Scanlan can't stop thinking about how close Vax came to dying. Members of the party have died before—Pike's death at the hands of that glabrezu is a constant in his nightmares, a ghost that haunts his every night—but it doesn't get easier. He doesn't get used to it. Would they be walking into the belly of the beast right now if Keyleth hadn't managed to heal him in time? Would Vex be walking up ahead, purposeful and strong, if her brother's body were still laid out in Anders's office upstairs? Would they have instead taken the evidence they'd found and the corpse of their friend and absconded, fled from this godsforsaken town with their tails between their legs in search of people who weren't complete fuck-ups?

His swirling thoughts are interrupted by a nudge to his shoulder, and he looks up to see Vax looking at him, brows furrowed. "You're quiet."

Uncharacteristically so, he's sure. "I'm thinking about asking Percy for Ripley's gun." It's only half a lie; he does really want it.

Vax snorts. "Good luck with that."

Scanlan doesn't want to ask the question, but as he's just seen, the next breath isn't guaranteed, so he says quietly, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Just...not care about the danger."

Vax cocks his head to the side. "You think I don't care about the danger?" Scanlan shrugs. "Scanman, of course I care about it. I just care about other things more."

Oh. Well. Scanlan doesn't know if there are things he cares about more than his own life, which, he thinks, may be the problem. So he deflects, because he's so very good at it. "Like Keyleth?" He adds a teasing twist to his tone.

Vax rolls his eyes, but Scanlan doesn't miss the color that rises to his cheeks. "You jealous, Scanlan?"

"Of course. If I knew that all it took to make out with you was a little magical healing, I'd've started helping you out a long time ago."

"Mm, well, you snooze, you lose."

Scanlan elbows him in the thigh. "Hey. It's cool, though. The two of you. And if you ever need a third..."

Vax laughs and rubs a hand in Scanlan's hair. "Look, I'm trying to get her on board with just the one."

"Prudes."

Just then, Vex whips around and hisses at them to be quiet, so they stop talking. Vax returns to the front of the group to help scout the way, and as he goes, Scanlan's thoughts return to the type of bravery that must be required to throw oneself headfirst into the most dangerous situations imaginable simply because it is what needs to be done. Sometimes he doesn't know how he ended up with this group of heroes, strange and bumbling as they are. All he knows is that he could never do what Vax does, and as they press on into the bowels of Castle Whitestone, he can't help but think that maybe he's not cut out for this hero work, after all.

#ask #Anonymous #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #scanlan shorthalt #vax'ildan #my fic

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vexing-imogen · 3 years

Text

the persistence of 1/?

Vex wakes with a pounding headache and the nagging sensation that something isn’t quite right. She’s on hard packed earth instead of her nice, soft bed, and she can hear her friends’ voices, all some measure of concerned. She opens her eyes with a groan, wincing at the too bright sunlight.

Pike is right there, her small hand on Vex’s cheek. The furrow between her brows relaxes when she sees Vex’s eyes open. “Hey,” she says softly. “How are you feeling?”

Vex tries to sit up, gasping when her vision swims with the movement. She lies back down, fighting off a wave of nausea. “Fuck.”

Pike hums sympathetically. “Yeah, you hit your head pretty hard.” The throbbing in her skull recedes somewhat as Pike pumps one healing spell into her, and then another. “Just rest for now. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.”

After a few minutes, she becomes aware of a presence at her side. A hand strokes her cheek, and she risks opening her eyes again, expecting her brother. Instead it’s Percy, staring down at her with a mix of trepidation and relief that feels wildly out of place. It’s almost like he’s... No, that’s absurd. She dismisses the thought before it can even finish.

And yet. There’s something off about him, about everything, that she can’t quite place. A hazy, dreamlike quality that’s not quite deja vu. Maybe Pike’s right. Maybe she just hit her head really hard.

She gives him the winningest smile she can manage while feeling like she got hit with a tree. “Can you help me sit up, darling? I promise I’m not going to throw up on you.”

Percy chuckles. “Because I’ve never heard that before.”

She frowns. She certainly doesn’t recall having ever thrown up on Percy. She’s sure Scanlan and Vax would never let her hear the end of it if she had.

Still, he helps her sit up, far more gentle than she’s come to expect from Percy. He stays by her side, watching her with an expression she can only describe as fond. His hand comes up to stroke her cheek again.

“I thought we agreed we were going to stop doing this,” he teases. Before Vex can ask what he means, he leans in and kisses her.

What. The. Fuck.

It’s not a bad kiss, all things considered. It’s soft and sweet, little more than a press of his lips against hers. But it’s also incredibly intimate, somehow. He kisses her like he knows her. So she does the only thing she can think of when he pulls away.

She slaps him. Hard.

He looks confused more than anything. A little hurt, a little betrayed. “Vex, wha-”

“What the hell, Percy?” She shoves him for good measure. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

There’s a low whistle, and Vex turns to see Grog and Scanlan watching them.

Scanlan is clearly trying to hold back laughter. “What did you do, de Rolo?”

“Yeah,” Grog chimes in. “We could hear that slap from the other side of the clearing.”

Percy shrugs. “I...don’t know?” he says weakly.

Vex is about to protest that he knows exactly what he did when Pike and Keyleth join them. “What’s going on, guys?” Keyleth asks. “We heard yelling.”

“We seem to have interrupted a bit of a lovers quarrel,” Scanlan says, smirking.

“Vex slapped Percy,” Grog adds.

Keyleth frowns. “Oh.” She turns to Vex. “Why?”

Vex sighs, her cheeks flaming. “He kissed me.”

They’re suddenly all looking at her like she’s grown a second head. “And that’s a bad thing?” Pike asks slowly.

“Well, yeah,” she says. “You don’t just kiss someone without asking them first.”

That only seems to confuse them more. “Not even if you’re married?” Scanlan asks.

Vex rolls her eyes. “Well, alright, but that’s different,” she says. “Percy and I aren’t married.”

A few jaws drop at that. Percy’s frozen in place, his eyes wide. “Oh dear.”

That nagging feeling of something being Very Wrong returns with full force. She shrinks back, curling in on herself. “Why are you all acting so weird? What the fuck is going on?” It suddenly hits her what, or rather who, has been missing this entire time. “Where’s my brother?”

There’s a low muttered fuck, she can’t tell who from. Percy buries his face in his hands. Keyleth turns away from her entirely.

“Vex?” Pike asks, approaching her slowly. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

It’s harder than she thinks it should be, but she finally settles on an answer. “Allura,” she says. “Um, she came to the Keep last night to give us the papers we’d need to get into Kraghammer. So we could go find her friend, Kima.”

A terrifying silence falls over the group, broken only by Grog’s muttered, “Oh shit.”

Pike takes a deep breath, grasps both of her hands. “Vex, um, I don’t know how to say this, but...”

“But what?” Vex asks. “Pike, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Pike admits. “But, going into Kraghammer to find Lady Kima? Vex, we did that five years ago.”

#critical role #critfic #vox machina #vex'ahlia #perc'ahlia

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

Heyo! Saw you wanted some individual character requests! I'm a sucker for Grog, and there isn't enough out there for him, so I was wondering if you could do a Grog x Sorceress!reader where the reader doesn't think grog would have a reason to like her since she isn't a melee fighter. Thank you so much!

P.s. Your writing is amazing, and I always love reading your works! ❤️

Thank you for the request! I'm glad you like my writing and hope you enjoy this one! Turned out a bit longer than I intended but that means more content. Anyway, Enjoy! 😘

Seated on the stone balustrade feet dangling over the edge looking over the city in front of you you twiddle your thumbs. You needed a moment away from everyone to sort your mind on your own. There’s a solitude in the dark clouds looming above and the first drops of rain signalling an oncoming storm and it’s never failed you before. Even while there’s no one around, you can confide in such storms knowing your words will be heard but carried away upon the wind and drowned out by the rain and thunder. A good storm won’t judge or hold a grudge. It will simply accept and listen. So here you’ll stay speaking your worries into the abyss and hope for some clarity or ease of mind and heart.

Back inside Grog sits on one side of the table, Scanlan at the other. They hold their respective tankards at the ready as the gnome counts down. By the end of the countdown they swing back their drinks finishing them as fast as they can being cheered on by the rest of Vox Machina and other witnesses to this drinking game. Grog’s determined to win this. While he’s pretty sure his tankard is actually a bucket with a handle, it’s more to scale compared to the gnome’s. Ale spills over the sides of Scanlan’s drink but Grog keeps it neat. No wasting ale after all.

With one last big chug Grog finishes the drink, slams it down on the table roaring in victory as the table shakes beneath his hit. Scanlan puts the remainder of his drink down on the table wiping his face disappointed. Grog looks around the crowd. Some are happy celebrating with him, others pass over money to the happy people for paying up on whatever amount they lost in their bets. How could they even consider Scanlan would win. He’s the best of the best after all and no one can out drink the all mighty Grog. He doesn’t spot you among the crowd and the victory doesn’t feel as sweet anymore. He really hoped you could have seen this one. Where had you gone?

Before Grog can get up and go find you he’s given a refill and the next challenger approaches. New bets are placed, Vex massages his shoulders giving him a pep talk and noting how he’s been making her a lot of money so better keep it up. He doesn’t want to disappoint his friends. One more game. Then he’ll go find you wherever you went.

The next game comes along, and another, and another but he’s done. No more games. When another challenger approaches and the game starts he doesn’t pick up the tankard and pushes away from the table. People ask him what the hell he’s doing but he ignores them. They’ve kept him long enough so he just up and walks before they can stop him. Grog leaves the room but Pike follows behind him worried for her buddy. He never refuses a good ale or a challenge, let alone the two combined.

“Grog? Grog, wait up!” Pike rushes after him leaving the banquet hall behind. Determined Grog still keeps walking but slows down his pace enough to let Pike catch up with him.

“Where are you going? There’s still plenty of ale to be drunk!” Pike reaches for the goliath’s hand to pull him to a stop. He does and turns to face Pike.

“I think I’ve had enough.” Grog says and Pike gasps. Never, never does Grog think he’s had enough to drink. Something must be wrong with him. Is he ill? Does he have a fever? Did someone poison her buddy’s drink? She might go on a war path if someone did and ruined his fun! But Grog seems okay. Physically that is. He’s fine.

“Do you know where she went?” Grog asks, maybe Pike can help him find you and maybe she can talk to you why you left. He doesn’t think you’d want to talk to him about that kind of stuff and while he’d consider himself a good listener, if something’s really up Pike always knows what to do. She can help.

“Who?”

“The pretty sorceress.” Grog states as a matter of fact and it is. Anyone who dares say otherwise clearly need some of those glass thingies Percy keeps on his nose and make him look smart.

“Oh, I don’t know Grog. She left to go get some fresh air.” Pike searches her mind to see where you might have gone. There’s a few places that come to mind but it’s all narrowed down to just the one when thunder rumbles through the sky. She knows exactly where you went and by the looks of it so does Grog.

Grog knows there’s only one place you really love to watch a storm unfold. You’ve told him before and you’ve even watched some storms together there. He shares a look with Pike and picks up his step going where he knows you’ll be, still dragging pike behind. When she doesn’t move fast enough he swings her up on his shoulders, running up the steps as far as they’ll take him, dodging a torch and pushing aside a guard here and there.

Then around the corner he sees you. Feet dangling over the edge, a single push away from what could possibly be a death drop, hand outstretched catching the rain with a sad smile on your face. You’re absolutely gorgeous. More alluring than anyone ever could. If he could paint, Grog would make sure this moment would be captured for eternity just so he would never forget. Maybe he can get some money from Vex to hire a painter? If Scanlan did it, why shouldn’t he?

You’re seated alone at the top of the tower. Lightning flashes through the clouds, sometimes branching down to strike the ground be it mountain or forest, you’re in a valley of safety surrounded by the storm. The drops of rain hit your outstretched arm extended beyond the cover of the overhanging. Cold as they are to the touch you watch them glide around your arm with movement until they too, continue their descend.

“…Sometimes I wish I would just have the courage but I don’t.” You speak into the skies. A burst of lightning strikes in the mountains, the sound echoing and even this high up you can feel the slight tremor of the ground. You know a storm is no sentient being but you read it like a reply no less and continue.

“I’m not a fighter. I don’t know how to wield a sword or an axe. I can barely lift one. We have such vastly different lives. Grog’s got no reason to like me in any way.” Thunder strikes again you smile briefly. You’ve come to terms you’ll always like Grog and your feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. The only reason you’re even spending time together in the first place is because you’re both involved with Vox Machina in one way or another. You’ve got hardly anything in common so if you hadn’t met through them Grog probably wouldn’t even have thought about you twice.

That may sound sad and you’re thankful for getting to know him but Grog has his own life and interests so why should he bother indulging you in yours. He’s already not a big fan of magic and you won’t bother attempting to teach him. It’s not like it’s any interesting stuff and he’d probably be bored out of his mind the entire time. Then again, the theoretics of magic might just not be your strong suit either. It’s more of a natural born gift.

Grog gets this weird feeling in his chest as if he’s been hit by something and it’s being twisted. Kind of like when he got shot by an arrow and Pike had to remove it. It’s not a good feeling. Checking for injury just to make sure he’s fine. It’s clear to him he feels this on the inside; his heart bleeds a little for you. You shouldn’t think that way. He likes you. He likes you a lot actually so you couldn’t be more wrong. Pike nudges him to set her down. He does as they remain around the corner, leaving you unaware of their presence.

“Go talk to her.” Pike whispers and Grog panics for a brief second. How is he even supposed to do this? What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t know how this psychology stuff works. That’s what Pike’s for. If people feel sad they often come to her, talk about their worries and problems and then they feel better. How’s he supposed to do that? He’s not Pike.

“She needs you, Grog. I know you like her and she needs you. Go talk to her.” Pike nudges him on into your direction. The goliath isn’t physically moved by her effort but he does move. If Pike says you need him, if you really need him then he’ll be there. Looking over his shoulder one last time to ask Pike for some advise she’s already half way down the stairs leaving you with him. Grog thinks hard for a moment but thinking isn’t his strong suit either so he’ll do what he always does; face the problem head on.

A throat clears behind you and you almost slip from the fright it gave you. A heavy step rushes forward and an arm wraps around your waist pulling you back before you can fall. You’d have spells to save you in case you did fall but you’d rather not and are grateful for your valiant saviour. The bare arm wrapped around your waist is covered in tattoos, markings and scars and engulfs the majority of your middle. It doesn’t take a fool to know this arm belongs to Grog Strongjaw himself.

Flustered you allow the goliath to pull you back onto solid ground and off the balustrade entirely before he lets go of you, making sure you’re right on your feet. How much of your conversation with the skies did he hear? Did he hear anything at all? Grog steps back and stares at his boots. He doesn’t only appear to be more embarrassed than you feel but also apologetic.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please don’t fall again and please don’t be angry at me.” Grog closes his eyes tightly afraid you might be mad at him as he was the cause of you almost experiencing a death drop. You’re basically gods but if we’ve learned anything from Keyleth; that doesn’t save you from a splat.

You step forward grab one of his hands in yours drawing his attention. With your index finger you tilt his chin up just enough so he’s looking at you and not over you. These gestures are enough for Grog to open his eyes. When there’s no look of anger on your face the tension in his body falls away just slightly. There’s still some rigidness from nerves but he’s closer to usual Grog.

“Chin up, big guy. You saved me too. I’m not mad.” You smile and the smile is returned. The air is still somewhat awkward so you decided you best get this over with and clear it up.

“How much did you hear?” You ask. The blush rushing to Grog’s cheeks and frantic glancing around to make sure no one else is here to witness it tells you he heard enough.

With a deep sigh you step back to the balustrade sitting down upon it once more but now to face Grog instead of the sky, your hair blowing lightly in the breeze, the rain and occasional illuminated sky behind you leave him staring yet again forgetting your question. He’s just captivated but you calling his name snaps him out of it. Saved it. Still got it. As long as he doesn’t turn to ‘drunk Keyleth’ levels he’ll consider it a win.

“I-uhhhh…. Why don’t you think I like you?” Grog twiddles his thumbs rocking back and forth from his tiptoes to his heels in anticipation of your answer. He knows he heard you tell the sky but he wants to be sure because if he gave you any reason to believe he didn’t like you, he did do something wrong. He’ll pick you over any of those other fools down stairs. He might just even pick you over the best ale. He’d already picked you over the ale he’d been offered. If that isn’t testament to his fondness of you, then what is?

“Ah, so you did hear that. I just- I think-. Ugh, why is this so hard?” You try to express your reasons but words are difficult and feelings even more so to describe yet still you try. Grog waits patiently either way.

“Do you think we would have been friends were it not for our lives being tied together as they are now?” You ask the dreaded question. You don’t even know if you really want the answer afraid that it may break any semblance of hope you had somewhere in your mind. Grog’s brow furrows, deep in thought but mostly confusion.

“Of course we would be. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Because I’m not like you. I’m not a fighter. I stay back with my spells and incantations while you run in axe swinging taking down anyone in your path. I read while you train. I sit around in my tower watching the skies while you go out and drink the town dry looking for a fight to enjoy. I could never do what you do and I do not dare to assume you’d have any interest in doing what I do.” The thoughts and feelings find words. A tension lifts from your chest like a breath you didn’t know you were holding just by speaking your mind to the goliath in question.

Grog knows damn well you’re not a fighter in the traditional sense. No steel or arrows for you but that does not mean you’re not a fighter in your own right. If he’s learned anything a fighter comes in many shapes and forms and you fit the description perfectly. You’ve shown determination and strength, courage against all odds and immense skill. You are a fighter.

“When I run into danger kicking ass who’s had my back every time?” Grog asks. There’s a harshness and authority in his voice indicating he’s leading somewhere and you better answer.

“We all have-“ Grog cuts you off.

“No. You have had my back every time.” He corrects. “Who comes watch me train, throwing spells to keep me on my toes? Who does it while reading her books completing not one but two tasks at the same time?”

“I do.” You admit.

“And who helps me kick ass in bar fights? Who cheers me on or joins me in any gamble or drinking game? Who is the best drinking buddy? You are. Now, who spends time with you watching storms whenever they occur up here in the tower or anywhere else?”

“You… do…” Grog’s right.

“I like to spend time with you because I like you. I don’t care you don’t swing an axe. That firestorm you do works just the same and looks way more badass. I’m not the smartest but I know two of the same are not always useful and can be too much. What are you going to do with two when you only need one. You need difference so they compitry- complitarity- colmpli-“ Grog struggles with that word. He’s heard Percy use it in a similar context but why is it such a difficult word to recall. He still tries and just hopes you’ll get what he’s trying to say.

“Complimentary?” You ask. You fear Grog might get himself a migraine if he tries any harder. You still don’t think that’s the correct use of the word but you get it. He’s trying to lift your spirits and it’s working.

“That one. Yes. Complimentary. I don’t just like you, I love you for who you are. You’re special and being different makes you special.” Grog admits he tries to fight the heat rising to his cheeks from admitting what he did but when he sees your smile grow, that’s enough to push his pride aside and let it be. Maybe he can do this thing Pike usually does after all? Maybe not unless it’s you. When he tells you he loves you he means it. When he has to say it to the likes of Vax he’d rather eat his own boots for lunch.

You gesture with your hand and beckon the goliath over to come closer. You rise to stand on the edge of the balustrade and wrap your arms around Grog’s neck holding him close. You feel his arms wrap around you in turn and pull you closer to where your feet barely touch the stone.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.” You pull back to look Grog in the eyes as he still holds onto you and take his cheeks between your hands giving him a quick kiss. Grog’s eyes light up and lifts you up higher offering you a kiss of his own. Sweet and short and filled with glee. He sets you back down on your feet but doesn’t let go of you yet.

“Do you want to go back downstairs? Last I checked there was a drinking game going on? Should we show them what we’re made off?” You grin and the proud look on Grog’s face tells you enough to know exactly what you’re talking about.

“Let me tell you the tale of my grand victories-“ Grog starts as he begins leading you back down the stairs, arm wrapped around your shoulders pulling you into his side as you walk.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #vox machina x reader #grog x reader #critical role #vox machina

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