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@astravates
#ASTRAVATES — an independent, highly-selective, and private multi-muse feat. muses from CRITICAL ROLE, BALDUR'S GATE 3, and other fantasy/ttrpg properties. penned by crys ( 28, she / they ). original character, multi-ship & crossover friendly.
helpful blog links: CARRD. ask memes. promos.
traveling companions: @thelyss; @featherstcnes; @crosaidi; @recitedemise; @sanguistar; @thoselittledespairs; @proelio-procusi; @fenthrasandbluefeather; @ofandrastes & @wickedpeachie.
@astravates sent : “you're doing this to annoy me.” (argument starters from caleb)
essek lifts his eyebrows ever so slightly, indicating just how deep an affront the statement is. his gaze never lifts, focused on the kitten he's petting. he's wearing a robe so thin and short some might consider it indecent. the kitten ( the latest addition to their family ) is purring loudly as she rubs against essek's hand, and a box of pastries lays on the couch to his left — freshly baked, and the human's favorite kind. a caleb trap, some might call it, crafted to pull his lover away from his work.
❝ that is quite the accusation, caleb widogast, ❞ he says, ❝ do you mean to imply that anything i could do could be annoying to you? ❞ surely not. not the love of caleb's life.
"You know exactly what you are doing," Caleb says, the corner of his mouth quirking upward despite himself.
He lowers the tome of transmutation theory he's been poring over for the last three hours, marking his place with a slender finger. His gaze travels deliberately over Essek's form—from the casual elegance of his posture to the expanse of lavender-gray skin the short robe reveals. And their kitten continues her contented purring, oblivious to the tension building in the room.
"Three of my favorite things, arranged so… artfully." Caleb's Zemnian accent thickens slightly as he studies Essek with undisguised interest.
His offer was sweet and it made Niamh smile as brightly as the sun. "Oh, I would love that! I'll have to stop by soon. I'd love to learn more about magic. I know a little, but I never had proper schooling." She wondered if he would be able to help her improve her healing magic. While selkies were skilled in some types of magic, healing usually wasn't one of them.
She wished she had a way to repay him for his kindness. She had a feeling he wouldn't accept money. Thinking for a moment, she shifted her books in her arms and reached up, taking one of the opalescent seashells out of her hair. She had a few attached to some braids, along with some pearls.
"Here, I want you to have this as a thank you for your kindness." She smiled and pressed it into his hand. "It's good luck to carry a shell with you."
Caleb looked down at the shell nestled in his palm, its surface catching the light with an iridescent shimmer that seemed almost magical in itself. The delicate spiral curves were smooth beneath his fingertips, and he could smell the faint scent of sea salt that still clung to it.
"This is… this is beautiful," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine wonder. He had seen many magical artifacts and precious stones in his years of study, but there was something uniquely captivating about this simple gift from the sea. "Are you certain you wish to part with it? It seems quite precious."
Of course Keyleth wasn‘t the same person she had been when he was forced to leave them. He still wanted to be her dashing rogue though, ready to catch her whenever she needed it. That thought had kept him going whenever he watched her struggle through the burdens placed upon her shoulders. The Matron, Keyleth, his sister, their friends. He loved them all so very dearly but loving himself? That was a harder part. He had been the champion for so long, Vax‘ildan only existed in a fraction of that being and now it was forced back into the light. People expecting him to simply be a person… All easier said then done really. Vax leaned into her touch, old habits still remained and did show them randomly. Kiki‘s touch was always a balm for his aching soul, and appearently for his aching body as well. Her wanted to argue but his temper didn‘t flare, face neutral and remaining rather quiet as Keyleth shushed him. His eyes seemed to glaze over. „Keyleth… What if I don‘t know who I am outside of this, outside of being the champion for her or for you… it‘s something that will be engrained into me for the rest of my life. It is carved into the armor i wear all the way down into my very bones. What if I have lost the ability to be a person?“ His face was filled with a vulnerable plead. He so desperately wanted to be what they wanted him to be but also remain the thing he had been. It felt like getting torn apart between to words and her permission to be his own person seemed to terrify him. He stood, flinching at the pain shooting through her back where more cuts ran over his back where the giant monster of a bird had attempted to tear off his wings and nearly succeeded. The room spun and he blinked, reaching out to steady himself on the wall. „Fuck‘s sake…“ He felt hot and cold all over cutting even through the aches as a shiver ran through him. This really wasn’t working in his favor.
Keyleth was on her feet in an instant, her hands reaching out to steady him before pulling back at the last second. She'd learned to read the signs when he needed space versus when he needed support. "Vax, sit down," she said firmly, though her voice carried none of the commanding tone she used with the Ashari. This was softer, more personal. "You're pushing yourself too hard."
She moved to block his path, not touching but close enough that he couldn't ignore her presence. "You want to know what I see when I look at you?" Her green eyes searched his face, taking in the pallor beneath his natural complexion, the way his jaw clenched against both pain and something deeper. "I see someone who's been carrying the weight of divinity for so long, he's forgotten what his own shoulders feel like without it."
The air around them stirred slightly, responding to her emotions as it always did, carrying the scent of growing things and rain-washed earth. "The champion isn't all you are, Vax. It's something you became, something that was asked of you. But underneath all of that..." She gestured at his armor, at the gold that still flickered in his eyes, "you're still the man who made terrible jokes to lighten the mood. Who worried about Vex more than himself. Who saw me trip over my own feet for months and somehow decided I was worth falling in love with."
the loose grip, the way caleb looks away from him, it all hurts. essek has a torrent of passion reaching for him, but it meets a stone wall. ❝ caleb, there . . . it is written all over our culture. not only losing loved ones, but friends, acquaintances. it is something we are aware of with each connection we make, something we have centuries of resources for. ❞
he wants to cup caleb's cheek and turn his head towards him, but he's scared — not of rejection, but of lukewarm tolerance. ❝ i entered our relationship with open eyes. i choose this. ❞ do you choose me?
Caleb's shoulders sink, his eyes still fixed on the falling leaves outside. A heavy sigh escapes him as he finally turns back to meet Essek's gaze, his blue eyes filled with a quiet resignation.
"I understand what you are saying," he says softly, his Zemnian accent thickening with emotion. "But Essek, when I am gone, you will be alone here. You will have no home to return to, no culture to embrace you in your grief. Sometimes I feel as though I have kept you from finding a new home, one that outlives me."
His fingers tighten around Essek's hand now, as if trying to anchor him against the cruel tide of time that will eventually separate them. "That is what terrifies me. Not just leaving you, but leaving you adrift."
i’m trying out the new daggerheart system tonight in a one-shot and i am super excited! also i’ll be back around starting tomorrow to catch up on drafts and messages. i haven’t been ignoring anyone, just super busy these last couple of weeks!!
i promise i haven’t dropped off the face of the earth… i am just binging expedition 33. this game has me in a chokehold…
update: i finished the game and i feel Emotional
i promise i haven’t dropped off the face of the earth… i am just binging expedition 33. this game has me in a chokehold…
"Between the two of you, brother, I think you are the one who needs a haircut." Vex turned her head, looking over her shoulder and winking at her brother. "Don't listen to him buddy, you are perfect just the way you are. We will find you a nice creak and then you can splash your uncle all you want." She waited for Vax to catch up to her, then she shoved his shoulder playfully. "Well, it's really their fault if they can't keep their wits about them when I'm simply being friendly and inquiring about their prices. And my haggling has paid for your drinks more then once before." His hint of pride made her stand a little taller a grin on her lips and a wink in his direction. A perfect intimidation of her flirting tactics with the poor merchants that dared to catch her eye. "You wish you were the pretty one you overgrown ego boost. I'm the fun one and I got the looks. You just have the remarkable ability of being ignored by people." Vex'ahlia bought into his tease, an equal grin on her lips as she flipped her braid into his direction with a pointedly arrogant sway to her hips. As the path they were following wound to a road she heavily sighed... stopping and taking Trinkets face in her hands. "Stay in the clearing, buddy. We won't be gone for too long." The bear gave a sad moan but he was used to it by now. Leaving Trinket made her uncomfortable but this was specifically to make Vax happy and his comfort after the injuries. "Remember when we had to break out of that Prison in Westrunn like two weeks ago?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, highly unimpressed with her brother. "I'm sure someone is in need for curiers of something. We also need some anti-venin. Running a little low on non meet rations too... you need a winter cloak, my bracers are starting to frey too so I will need some thread to fix them. Wax for my bowstrings and strings too. I'm on my last one."
"That prison break hardly counts," Vax scoffed, waving dismissively. "It was barely a prison. More like a glorified drunk tank with guards who couldn't stay awake past midnight. And if I recall correctly, who was it that picked the locks while you were busy flirting with the guard captain?" He arched an eyebrow at her, daring her to contradict him.
The lights of the town grew brighter as they approached, the silhouettes of buildings taking shape against the darkening sky. It was a modest settlement—not quite a village but certainly no metropolis—with a smattering of shops clustered around what appeared to be a central square. "We'll find you everything you need," Vax assured her, his voice softening like it always does with his sister.
As they reached the edge of town, Vax pulled his hood up, more out of habit than necessity. The cloak did need replacing; the fabric was worn thin in places, and one of the clasps had broken months ago. Still, it served its purpose well enough, concealing his features and the telltale points of his ears. "Shall we try the tavern first?" he suggested, gesturing toward a squat building with golden light spilling from its windows. The sign hanging above the door depicted a rather poorly painted boar with an apple in its mouth. "The Drunken Hog," Vax read aloud. "Charming. Bet they have the most watered-down ale this side of Emon."
Before Vex could respond, a commotion drew their attention farther into town—raised voices, the clatter of something heavy being dropped, and what sounded suspiciously like the beginning of an argument. Vax's eyes lit up with interest. "Now that sounds promising. Trouble always brings opportunity, sister." He was already moving toward the noise, his earlier fatigue seemingly forgotten. "Come on, let's see what's happening. Maybe someone needs a problem solved… discreetly."
"He likes soups, so that would be a great place to start as far as the recipes go, besides most soups are really hard to mess up cause you just put everything in a pot and wait." Jester had a grin on her lips as she looked at him.
Caleb couldn't help but chuckle at Jester's simplistic view of cooking. "I think there might be a bit more nuance to Kryn cuisine than that, but your optimism is admirable as always." He ran a hand through his copper hair, mentally cataloging what he knew of Dynasty ingredients.
He, too, stops when Caleb does — there’s a part of him that feels some relief when they do. He’s not eager for this confrontation, no matter what he says. He furrows his brows at the protest, eyes averting briefly, but — he finds it difficult to argue it back. He wants him there with him, and that’s probably the worst part of it all. It’s not necessarily a fear, but there is an insidious little dread that mixes with old hot anger and a weary kind of grief in a volatile, complicated mess.
" I just don’t want y’to get hurt, " he mutters, low, and that’s a heavy truth of it but it’s not the whole truth, is it? It’s no lie, but there’s also a distant worry about what’s going to happen down there that has little to do with power. He’s gentled considerably since their first days — the bitter anger has long grown softer teeth, and the vengeance that drove him has become more like exhausted duty. But his past is his past, and he’s not sure what he’s afraid of —— his gaze meets Caleb’s at the touch, and those words also serve to remind why they’re here, and he just utters a low, affirmative noise.
The funny part, too, is there’s no magic on the air. He can’t sense this, because he’s not connected to the Weave — but there’s no wards, no protections, no whiff of power. And, distantly, a figure walks out of the rock outcropping, leading a mule by a rope to tie it to a nearby tree. The figure is neither tall nor short, and favors a leg heavily: they lean on the mule, and once they have it tied up with a bucket nearby, they pull a cane off its back to walk back out of sight.
Paerin, of course, sees this; he hesitates. " Maybe that en’t him anyway, " he says, a troubled mix of emotions there. " Or maybe he’s traveling with someone. That don’t look —— " He looks to Caleb, then, and snorts softly. " Oi, would be my luck that we followed a bad lead. " Though —— he can feel it, and he swears. " I can’t think right now, " he admits to preparation. " I’m half a mind t’go just —— up there an’ find out. "
Caleb's expression softens, though concern still lingers in his eyes. "I understand," he says quietly. "But we do this together, ja? Always." He gives Paerin's shoulder one more reassuring squeeze before releasing him, turning to observe the figure by the mule.
His brow furrows as he watches the limping stranger disappear back into the outcropping. This doesn't match what they had expected—a powerful mage who had once nearly killed Paerin shouldn't need to lean on a mule or use a cane. Something doesn't add up. "People change," Caleb murmurs thoughtfully. "Time and circumstance can wear down even the mightiest." He reaches for his component pouch, fingers brushing over familiar items inside. "If you wish to approach directly, I can provide cover. Or..." He hesitates, calculating options. "I could send Frumpkin ahead to scout."
A small smile tugs at his lips as he adds, "Though your direct approach has its merits. Simplicity can sometimes be the most effective strategy, especially when expectations are involved." His eyes never leave the outcropping, searching for any signs of deception or danger.
"But first," he says, voice dropping lower, "what will you do if it is him? What do you need from this encounter?" The question hangs in the air between them, gentle but unavoidable. The wind shifts, carrying the scent of cooking food from the campfire—something hearty and simple. No arcane scents, no ozone of powerful magic. Just the mundane smell of a traveler's meal. It makes the situation all the more puzzling.
Vax blinked, staring at the spot where the cat had just been, before starting slightly as the cat reappeared on his shoulder with the snap of Caleb's fingers.
Well. That was quite handy indeed.
He reached his hand up to continue scratching Frumpkin's head, leaning into the cat affectionately. "Cats know good people when they see them. I'm sure he thinks quite highly of you." In fact, Vax'ildan would trust a cats judgement over many of the people he knew.
Vax grinned as he glanced over at Caleb. "I know someone else who thinks quite highly of you as well."
Caleb was grateful for the dim firelight that might conceal his flushed reaction, though he suspected Vax, with his keen perception, would notice anyway. The wizard's mind raced, parsing the layers of meaning beneath the rogue's words.
"Ach?" he managed, his voice coming out rougher than intended. "I cannot imagine who that might be." The lie was transparent, hanging awkwardly between them, but old habits of self-preservation died hard.
Frumpkin kneaded his paws against Vax's shoulder, purring loudly as if encouraging the conversation forward. Traitor, Caleb thought fondly.
@criticalstories | cont.
Dorian's lips curved upward at the gentle kiss, crystal blue eyes crinkling at the corners with affection. He unwrapped his arms from around Orym and settled beside him on the protruding root, their shoulders touching lightly. "I was beginning to wonder where you'd disappeared to," he said, voice soft against the whisper of leaves. "But I should have known I'd find you here." His gaze drifted to the carved stone, expression gentle with understanding. "You know, I think Will would be immensely proud of you. Everything you've accomplished, everything you've become."
"The Tempest was looking for you, actually." Dorian tilted his head toward the village, his ombre hair catching the dappled light through the leaves. "Something about diplomacy missions. But..." He reached over, his sky blue fingers intertwining with Orym's smaller ones. "We can stay here a while longer if you'd like. There's no rush."
A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the distant call of birds and the rustling canopy overhead. Dorian's gaze lingered on the carved moons, curiosity softening his features. "What were they like?" he asked finally, his voice gentle. "Will and Derrig."
he raises an eyebrow, slightly, as caleb touches him — not an admonishment, but a warning. mind yourself, widogast. remember who is in charge. still, essek's mask softens as their foreheads touch; a familiar contact they used even before their relationship began. he doubts there'll ever come a time when he isn't effected by it.
❝ hmm. a truce, then? ❞ he tilts his head back to look at caleb, and releases his chin. ❝ such an agreement must be beneficial for both parties. you must have something to exchange. ❞
his hand slips from caleb's hip to his back, leaning forward until he's pressed flush against him — bare skin to cloth. his pulse quickens at his own boldness. ❝ what will you offer me, caleb widogast? ❞
The sudden closeness, combined with the drow's bold question, sends heat rushing to his face. His cheeks burn with such intensity that he's certain they must match the color of his hair. "I- ah-" Caleb stammers, completely losing his usual eloquence. His hands hover uncertainly at Essek's waist, torn between pulling him closer and maintaining the respectful distance he's been so careful to preserve. The feeling of Essek's clothed form against his naked torso is dizzyingly intimate.
His mind races with possibilities of what he could offer, what he wants to offer… everything, anything Essek might desire… but he's acutely aware of overstepping. The flush spreads down his neck to his chest, visible evidence of his flustered state.
"Whatever you wish," he finally manages, his voice low and slightly tremulous. "I offer myself, at whatever pace you desire."
Vax'ildan's frown deepened at Keyleth's lecture but his hazel eyes shone with nothing but admiration. He was thankful to her, truly and he would certainly make more of an effort to show it if he didn't feel like every inch of his body hurt. He felt cold. He was exhausted and just wanted to curl up, place his head into his Tempest's lap and sleep until nothing hurt anymore. "Love, you forget that eye haven't been mortal in a very long time you have to cut me a little bit of a break." He chuckled but cringed. His eyes and parts of his armor flashed gold with power. He tried to remain silent but the flash of magic didn't help lessen the pain much... Vax hissed again. "Fuck's sake... My body's still adapting to all of this again. I'm sorry Kiki, I shouldn't be this reckless." It was a lame excuse but he tried to strengthen it with a smile. The truth was that he got worried... after watching Keyleth getting attacked and nearly killed the thought of any harm coming her way made him scared shitless and those emotions didn't quite collaborate with the champion. He wasn't the same as he was when he left them. Quieter, more reserved, parts where he seemed emotionless or distant... moments when he missed the Matron but felt guilty because he was with Keyleth and his thoughts should be focussed on protecting her instead. It was confusing and didn't help the headache he was battling. "Thank you for looking after me. I'm sorry I was reckless, truly. Being your dashing rogue might be a little harder then I thought."
Keyleth paused, her hands stilling against his wounded skin. The antlers crowning her head seemed to cast longer shadows across her face in the dim light of their shelter. She studied him—this man who had once been her everything, who had died, and who had somehow returned to her side, bearing new scars she couldn't see. "Vax," she said, her voice suddenly weighted with decades of leadership, of decisions made alone, of standing strong when she wanted to crumble. She set the bloodied cloth aside, her shoulders slumping slightly beneath an invisible burden. "I'm not the same girl you left behind."
A sad smile touched her lips as she reached up to trace the line of his jaw with gentle fingers. "I don't need a protector anymore. I don't need a champion or a guardian or someone to throw themselves between me and danger." And when Vax went to open his mouth in what Keyleth assumed to be protest, she pressed her fingers against his lips. "What I need," she continued, her voice breaking slightly, "is for you to find joy again. To remember what it means to live for yourself, not just for a goddess or for me." She took a deep breath. "The Raven Queen gave us both this second chance—don't waste that gift by trying to be what you were. Be what you want to be now."
Local man has the second worst day of his life.
