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indie yasha nydoorin. by seashell. under co.

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i’m not dead just vibing

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first of all this looks like a cat accidentally gained sentience and became horny 

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[dinah-lance]

I have siblings, I know how to get my revenge when I need to.

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ROOMS

some of these are modern au, depending on the question. it’ll be pretty easy to tell. 

Kitchen:

What is the character’s favourite food?: Yasha has not ... tried a lot of varying foods. She honestly very much does like eating rats, and small game. But things that her friends make? Those are some of her favorite things too because ... her friends made food because they cared. When Jes gets pastries or Cad makes dinner, she treasures that.    Are they good at cooking? How good/bad?: She can cook meat so that it does not poison herself or her friends, but making extravagant things? That’s not going to happen. It’s not a skill she ever picked up. She’s also used to communal eating, from both the circus and xhorhas.  Do they leave the dishes out?: modern au. No, she doesn’t. She puts them away. She’ll throw away other people’s things for them too. It’s not that she’s a neat freak, she’s just being busy.  What kind of food is in their refrigerator?: modern au. The basics, and whatever Molly stocked.  Do they cook, eat out or get take-away/delivered food more?: modern au. She prefers take-away to eating out. And she’s not a great cook, but she’ll cook at home because money, man. Money is not something that she has a lot of. 

Living Room:

How does the character spend weekends?: in canon universe weekends don’t really matter. weekends and daytime are the same; they are both spent working towards whatever adventuring goal the party is currently working towards. in a modern au ... i still don’t think she has much distinction between the weekends and the weekdays, but her friends drag her out of that sometimes: there’ll be a party she stands awkwardly at or something like that.  What do they do with friends?: she just likes being with them. though she doesn’t like loud social activities, she does like being with them. they make her feel better. they make her feel warm. they make her feel safe. so whatever they’re doing, she’ll do, to an extent. but her favorite things? when caduceus and jester and her get to play music. being on the beach in nicodranas. in mdoern au, quiet movie nights.  What’s their favorite pastime?:  she likes quiet activities. things that she can do by herself, when she has the time to be by herself. reading. looking around for flowers. a hike in the woods or sitting on the beach or playing her harp. there are other ones that she likes, especially in modern times: snowboarding, netflix shows with molly. 

Bathroom:

How does the character prepare in the morning?: Sometimes she doesn’t even do her hair. It depends on how fast they have to get going. It’s putting on armor and getting up and going so much of the time.  Do they sing in the shower?: modern au. In general, no. Sometimes there’s humming. The addendum to this is that if Molly is singing in another room, Yasha will start subconsciously singing as well, whatever he’s singing. Duet, bitches.  What kind of hair product/make-up do they use?: She braids her hair and usually braids things into it as well, and her makeup is the warpaint and the eyeshadow.  Does the character have thousands of shampoo/shower gel bottles by the shower, or do they use only the bare essentials?: Bare essentials. Occasionally steals Molly’s shit if she’s having a bad day. The things she does have are violet and rose scented, though, and probably because Molly dragged her to lush one time. 

Bedroom:

How do they sleep? (Position, sleeping habits, bedtime routines):  She doesn’t sleep well, but she’ll sleep wherever she has to. She doesn’t really like beds all that much. If she’s given the choice of ‘who’s sleeping in the bed’ she’ll always take the floor.  What are their pajamas like?: In canon universe it’s just underclothes. In modern au I feel like she has a pair of silk pajamas that Jester got her and then a pair of plaid pajamas she picked up at Target or some shit.  What do they dream about usually?: When she dreams it’s usually visions from the Stormlord, and when she as under Obann’s control it was ... the dreams saved her. The dreams were when she felt like herself.  How neat/tidy are they?: She’s a minimalist sort of in that she doesn’t have many possessions, so she’s sort of tidy just by design. And a lot of the spaces she has she doesn’t exactly feel like are hers, so she leaves them neat for the people whose spaces they are. A little less tidy when she gets more comfortable.  How affectionate are they?:  To talk about platonic affection: It depends on the person. She’s most affectionate with Molly first and foremost, and that was something they developed together over two years. As she gets more comfortable with the M9 she branches out and is affectionate with more and more as she gets to know them. She does love it, it just takes awhile. 

Attic:

What is the character afraid of?; Being taken control of. Hurting people she cares about. Both of these things are things that have happened to her.  How do they deal with bad memories?:  She carries them with her alongside the good ones. She feels as if she can’t let them go, sometimes.  What is this character’s role in a horror movie?: Badass person who finds a sword and starts swinging it. Or ... the person who gets possessed and starts killing others. I don’t make the rules here I just report the facts.  How do they hide their secrets?:  She’s just very quiet so it takes people a long time to find out anything. 

TAGGED BY: @widaugast​ TAGGING: you. 

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hellesfeuer​:

FRUMPKIN   SITS   UP   A   BIT,   EYES   STILL   FIXED   ON   THE   WASP.         caleb   turns   back   to   yasha,   however.            “      if   it   stings   me,   i   would   likely   die,      ”            he   replies   dryly,   poking   fun   at   his   own   ‘squishiness.’      he   nudges   frumpkin,   who   takes   the   hint   and   scrambles   off   caleb’s   lap,   yellow   eyes   still   following   the   wasp.      it’s   stilled   now   atop   the   dome,   and   frumpkin’s   tail   twitches,   catching   caduceus’s   nose   and   making   the   firbolg   sniffle   and   grunt   a   bit   in   his   sleep.            “      quite   a,   ah   .   .   .      a   pickle   we   are   in,   ja?      ”   

“we have diamonds,” she says, and then wrinkles her nose. “sorry, that is a ... bad joke, i think.” yasha’s lips twitch into a smile as she watches frumpkin’s tail brush against caduceus’ nose, and then her eyes track the wasp - not too unlike frumpkin himself. “do you mean the wasp on top of the dome, or -- everything else?” 

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hellesfeuer​:

SHRUGS   AND   SMIRKS   AT   ONCE   BECAUSE   VETH   PLAYS   PRANKS   LESS   THAN   SHE   USED   TO.         he   misses   this   side   of   her,   guilty   as   he   feels   missing   anything   about   her   she   hated.            “      ah,   yes,   it   is   a   shame   .   .   .      but   i   do   still   have   her   bag.      ”            her   trinkets,   her   money,   her   treasures.            “      so   it   is   not   all   a   waste.      ”   

eyes slide to the bag and she grins; crosses her arms under her chest. “oh, i see that. what are we going to steal from it? i think she has things i can throw and make go boom.”

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riverheld​:

“Bugssssssssssss?” Bright eyes dart around the stranger for a moment before trying to worm their way into her clothes, looking for the mentioned snacks. “Lotsssss? Bugssss?”

“They do like bugs,” with the same slight sigh of an exhausted parent, watching her child and hoping they wouldn’t cause too much trouble. “Ezen, behave, please, climbing through someone’s clothing is rude and untoward.”

This doesn’t stop them. 

“Oh, it’s okay - “ Yasha watches, fascinated, as the creature climbs through her clothes. “My friend has a weasel. His name is Sprinkle and he is ... worse.” A weasel she once tried to give a bath, thank you very much, something she is never doing again. Well. Maybe. If she’s asked. 

She breaks her eyes from Ezen to look towards the person in front of her. 

“Sorry, did I introduce myself? I’m Yasha.” 

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i got my drafts from 29 down to 15 and there are some in the queue. 

the neon sign in the corner: you have 209 askbox messages  me: first of all, motherfucker, 

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i unfollowed a bunch of people who weren’t mutuals (and nonactive blogs). i did not softblock anyone. if i unfollowed you and you were a sideblog i unfollowed by accident; please let me know. in addition if you come back and i’m no longer following you please reach out. 

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broughtflowers​:

he remembers the first time  gustav  had  given  him  the  deck.  it  was  still  early  days  &  molly  hadn’t  quite  found  his  voice  yet.  he  was  a  little  skittish  around  strangers,  but  eager  to  learn  &  throw  himself  into  new  endeavours.  they  tried  a  few  things  around  the  carnival.  little  things  he  could  do  outside  of  following  gustav  around  like  a  lost  puppy.  there  was  bodyguarding  with  bo,  helping  with  the  carnival  ledgers  which  was  quickly  ruled  out  because  molly  couldn’t  read  &  then  there  was  this.  looking  back,  it  almost  felt  like  fate.

he  smiles,  thinking  about  a  performance,  but  it’s  yasha.  he  doesn’t  need  all  the  glitter  around  her.  molly  simply  shuffles  his  deck  &  cuts  it  in  half  &  pulls  out  the  card  on  top.   ❛ judgement.  reversed.  a  reckoning.  a  call.  there’s  a  figure  in  the  clouds  above  people  standing  in  their  graves. ❜   molly,  to  his  credit,  doesn’t  flinch  at  that.   ❛ there’s  something  in  your  past  that  you’re  avoiding.  regrets,  past  mistakes,  fear,  doubt——something’s  making  you  ignore  that  call.  huh,  that’s  all  very  serious,  isn’t   it  ? ❜ 

there’s a taste in her mouth like static, like metal, like lightning. she stares down at the cards and up at molly, and knows he wouldn’t bullshit her. she knows how this works by now, or some of it - the leading, the performance. sometimes in the larger crowds she stands nearby when he’s doing readings, just out of sight, to make sure no one’s going to come at him. 

she knows the difference, a little bit. knows enough to know when he’s performing, at the very least. 

( did the stormlord lead her to molly? did the stormlord lead her here? ) 

“well. i don’t know what that is.” and she doesn’t press at it, either. that dark spot in her memory. not yet. not here. there is no pressing at it, she thinks: she was in the darkness, and then she wasn’t. 

and what came before: she carries that with her. 

“maybe no more fortunes for me today.” 

@neinsided

[janedoe297-art]

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pluresque​:

“yeah, it’s– it isn’t the same.” there was plenty that molly did that was like… an echo of lucien. or maybe lucien’s just twisted it, in a warped-mirror kind of way, taken whatever parts of molly might still be in there and turned them into– this. fjord had woken molly up more than once with his own dreams, felt guilty until molly had mumbled something incomprehensible and turned over.

fjord wonders what he dreamed of, back then – but it can’t have been this. he’d have said something, if it was this – right?

this is the worst part of it; if lucien was anyone else, if they were just taking on the rest of the tomb takers, fjord wouldn’t give a damn. not beyond trying to stay alive, anyway. but this— fjord thinks he and yasha might be in the minority, here, thinking about how they’re going to have to kill lucien even if molly is still in there. but it’s worse, watching things he knew were molly’s things – the cracks, the spells, the charm – get twisted and turned against them.

he’s so caught up in it– fjord flushes dark, can’t stop the grin that winds across his face even despite all the rest of it. “yeah, i– did do that, huh?” if there’s one good thing to come from this shitshow… “that, uh – wasn’t the first time. i’m pretty sure jester’s just fucking with veth.”

fjord eyes her, sidelong, and aims for casual: “how’s, ah– how’re things with you and beau?”

no, it’s not the same. and she knows she hoped it would be; she knows it was always a futile hope. it was always a bit foolish. a bit hopeful. maybe she should be allowed to be, after all of that. she wants to be allowed.

and at the same time, she knows how this is going to play out. she’s no psychic, no tarot card reader, but she knows all the same - and she owes it to molly, if he’s still in there, to end this one way or another. what’s more of his blood on her hands anyway? 

“i’m sorry it’s happening again. friends turning on you.” she casts a worried eye towards caleb and beau. the thought is there already, turning over and over in the pit of her stomach. it hasn’t happened yet. maybe it won’t, maybe they don’t understand how this works and one eye isn’t enough to rip the two of them from them. or maybe it is, maybe it is and lucien just doesn’t know yet. 

they can’t be sure either way. 

 “you sure did.” there is something near amusement in her eyes. she doesn’t want to betray jester’s trust, but she is also a terrible liar. yasha scratches her nose, then folds her arms underneath her chest. “i think, maybe, veth is the only one who didn’t know?” maybe beau. maybe caleb. but she knows beau and fjord have taken a watch together recently, and if jester told her - 

her head snaps up. “oh,” and then, “beau”, like a realization. of course she told fjord. “um. we ‘put a pin in it’. not because i don’t like her!” her voice is hushed. “but she wanted to go on a date? in the tower. and now there’s lucien, and - he can sort of see everything. not that - it’s, well. anyway.” 

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what ... does the new thing look like. 

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❝  we’ve all known each other for about four hours and we’re making goblins of ourselves.  ❞

memes. 

“it’s the circus life, i think.” molly has always been right about that; circus people are weird. sometimes they are a little too weird for yasha, and sometimes things get a little too loud, but she thinks it would be worse if they were normal. she knows very well she does not fit in with normal. at least with weird she blends in, even just a little bit. 

she returns to trying to pull the arrow of barton’s out of the tree. this one in particular is somehow shaped like a dick, which she feels in her soul that is jester’s doing. how it still flies is not something she’s privy to. 

“you could probably get caleb to set these on fire. for extra damage.” 

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hellesfeuer​:

HE   SHAKES   HIS   HEAD,   BUT   HE   LEANS   AGAINST   HER   ALL   THE   SAME.         yasha   is   somehow   warm,   even   in   the   snow.      though   .   .   .      perhaps   it   is   because   caleb   is   so   cold.      he   shivers   and   reaches   for   the   potion,   thankfully   downing   it,   only   coughing   a   little   at   the   taste   as   it   hastily   slides   down   his   parched   and   sore   throat.  

“      it’s   fine,      ”            he   replies.            “      that   is   enough.      ”            he   isn’t   back   to   himself,   back   to   his   full   strength,   but   it   doesn’t   matter.      sleep   will   do   that   well   enough,   and   the   potion   will   help      —      pull   him   up   from   the   ground   at   least,   stabilizing   his   vision   and   stopping   the   blood   loss.      he   feels   guilty   enough   taking   the   potion   for   himself.      his   mind   will   not   let   him   accept   anything   more;      he   cannot.  

“      s-see   .   .   .      see   to   beauregard.      ”            he   gestures   toward   the   mammoth   form   of   their   friend,   caduceus   sliding   down   from   her   back,   bloodstained   and   pale.      he   can   only   see   the   back   of   fjord   from   here,   but   he   notes   the   limp   he’s   trying   to   hide.            “      or   caduceus   or   fjord.      i’ll   be   alright.      ”            he   is   better   with   pain   than   they   think.  

he   shuffles   on   his   knees,   reaching   for   his   spellbook   and   his   components   at   once.      they   need   .   .   .      something.      something   more   than   the   open   air   for   protection.      the   dome   at   the   very   least,   though   it   won’t   matter   if   lucien   comes   calling.      the   alarm   spell,   too,   he   thinks   to   himself,   disappearing   into   his   mind      —      into   the   formulae   and   calculus   of   his   spells   and   nothing   else.  

something unknots in her belly when caleb leans against her and reknots when he sits back up, when he says i’m fine. these people, they all pull themselves up by the ragged ends of their fingernails, constantly. she herself has known nothing different, not even when young. still. she wishes they could have a break. she wishes they could have something. 

her stomach flips again when he points to beau, to caduceus. there is a sharp, metallic, taste on her tongue; the memory of blood. ( the memory: their bodies lifted in the air. the blood that cuts tracks threw older blood or fur. ) 

“what? no, i-” the air bites at her as she watches caduceus. beau is safe for awhile longer with the mammoth; at least she thinks that’s how it works, and fjord can still heal but caduceus: she knows he will not heal himself. eyes go quickly between caduceus and caleb before she stands, crunching her way across the packed snow to caduceus to wordlessly heal him. 

( she doesn’t ask. she just squeezes his hand and does it, because she knows what he’ll say, and then casts her eyes towards fjord and beau in a wordless help them. ) 

it’s not even a minute before she returns to caleb’s side, watchful still, kneeling in the snow besides him. 

“i don’t know how any of this works. you can hear me, right? no, i think the hearing thing is just when you go into-” she makes little paws with her hands. “what do you want me to do?” 

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atlasburdened​:

veth rubs her eyes before crossing her arms back over her chest , exhausting & still unable to sleep . she hasn’t taken her eyes off of caleb since they finally made it to the dome , waiting for a sign of another eye , of lucien , of the somnovum . & she startles when yasha’s soft voice cuts across the silence of the dome . she knows . she knows yasha’s right & she wishes that she were more ready for it . maybe because molly had died  & come back before , fjord had died & come back , she had died &come back . why the fuck couldn’t molly have just done it again ? she doesn’t want to kill him . she doesn’t want to see him die again . but given the choice ? she’d do it for them , so they don’t have to .   ❝   yasha , you - you don’t have to . if it comes down to it . i will .   ❞   she says , eyes flitting between beau & caleb & only seeing their faces on glory run road as they’d buried their friend - still hoping , she thinks , that he’d have crawled out of that grave and straight to them .   ❝   i was there the first time so - it won’t be as bad , if it’s me . beau , she - i think she still thinks it’s her fault , you know ? & don’t tell her i said this because who knows how she’ll take it but i don’t want her to carry something worse than what happened on that road .   ❞

“sorry,” she whispers when she sees veth jump. she hadn’t meant to startle her but she doesn’t blame her either. today isn’t a good day for feeling at ease. “i think i do, though?” it’s not hard to follow veth’s gaze and to understand where she’s looking. she won’t let it be them, either. it’s part responsibility and it’s part debt, this aching sense of doing that she doesn’t know how to absolve. “he’s mine,” a pause, a correction, “molly was mine, and -- his undoing should be mine. if he’s in there, veth, and he’s trapped, and we can’t get him out -” 

she notices she’s watching beau and turns back to veth. grief written on her face. old and new, mixed together but unable to swallow her whole. she has them all, and it keeps her afloat. 

“it would be a relief. being trapped like that is a sort of hell.” her shoulders sink, eyes drifting back to beau. “no, i won’t let it be her. i won’t tell her.” she holds a pinkie outstretched towards veth. “it’s you or me then.”