hell the fuck yeah.

independent beauregard, or whatever, from critical role

[eauregard-sb]

ok i moved !

[eauregard-sb]

im gonna bite the bullet and make beau a main blog right now : /

[ruushes]

a pair of beaus from things ive accepted im not going finish lol 💪💙

[eauregard-sb]

hey buddies im glad that u guys have decided to give me a Chance and have sent me memes and stuff... thanks for being cool beans !

[eauregard-sb]

@mightynope / continued !

      The only thing worse than Beau killing Caleb herself... is Beau showing that she cares! Immensely! About people! About her companions!

     “What. Why.” There is no nervousness in Caleb’s voice, but there is in hers; her voice, which spikes, and her mannerisms. How she stops on a dime and turns to face him, takes an aggressive step forward. She hesitates, a split second (”a-a-aah”), and grabs him, nothing gentle in the dark of the night, and pats him down, starting at his shoulders. “Caleb. Why.”

     It takes all of two seconds for her hands to follow his arms, to extend themselves past his hands, to feel against the bolt and jostle it.

[danidoosk]

It’s about time I drew beau.

[eauregard-sb]

' i remember the first time i got into a fight. i wasn't any good at it. ' from keyleth

     “--well, yeah. but that’s how everyone starts, right?”

     getting smashed in alleys? spitting out blood? beau rolls a dismissive shoulder, setting her tankard on the table with an empty thunk. the tavern is warm with bodies and lively conversation, and the buzz in her veins is fifty percent alcohol and fifty percent keyleth’s awkward laugh.

     “and now look at you.” she waves at her whole, general, thing. “you’re a total fucking badass! turning into like, fucking, giant eagles and shit?”

[sacreddear]

dark places | book quote starters feel free to change pronouns as preferred. warnings for mentions of death, murder, depression.

i was not a lovable child.

the truly frightening flaw in humanity is our capacity for cruelty - we all have it.

i am not angry or sad or happy to see you.

i guess i’ve been depressed for about twenty-four years.

i can feel a better version of me somewhere in there.

everyone who keeps a secret, itches to tell it.

coffee goes great with sudden death.

i should just listen to my gut and then do the opposite.

i assumed everything bad in the world could happen, because everything bad in the world already did happen.

you think after what happened there’s any peace for you, sweetheart?

worries find you easily enough without inviting them. 

i like other people’s things better.

do you understand this is serious?

how could you kill something you cared enough to name?

sometimes it feels good to fuck with something. instead of always being fucked with.

if they made any sense, they wouldn’t really be mysteries, right?

i like ponies. i hate spaghetti. i hate you.

what can i say about a man who knows how i think and still sleeps next to me with the lights off? 

what does it do to a girl who knows her mother is a murderer?

i don’t know anyone’s name.

if i say i don’t want to read the book, i don’t want to read the book. 

when i take to my bed, it’s good to know whether i’m sick or just lazy.

geez, not even a hi before you toss me out?

you’re never as broke as you say.

i’ve thought about you a lot over these years, been wondering about you. that’s what you do in here … think and wonder.

but you get what you deserve, you know? i think you know that.

every single person in this case lies, is lying, did lie.

there is such a thing as a pretty trailer park, you know. 

[eauregard-sb]

Now? It’s one thirty in the morning.

      in the dim light, beau’s mouth falls open. and then, with far too much vitriol, far too much defensiveness: “no. no, that’s cool, i get it–”

      in this moment, like a lot of moments in beau’s life, there is a small seed of uncertainty. the question of whether or not this is the right thing to do. a momentary flicker, an anxiety in her gut – that says here she is, trying to help again, and here the world is, caleb and nott staring at her like that showing her why she shouldn’t. and like a lot of these moments, beau punches these feelings into the night sky, because fuck that shit!

     “you wanna. fuckin’.” she’s like a cage-y bird. jittery movements – shrugging with her whole body, throwing her hand up as if what the fuck ever, looking from one corner of the room to the next. “few more hours of sleep, instead of – you know, getting into the most guarded library of the city for a few more hours before we leave. –you know what? you’re right. no, sleep sounds great. fuck knowledge. fuck learning.”

[eauregard-sb]

i feel like beau’s backstory is so CLOSE TO MEEEEE and yet. i cannot watch right now

[eauregard-sb]

And anyway, no one knew who I was. Not even me. / caleb,,

    "Caleb..."

     Her ribcage shifts her body to the side, and with her elbow propped on her knee like this, she can look one moody wizard in the eye. Or, she can try to, if he doesn't shirk away, bones clicking as he shifts his jaw.

     Then, she sighs, and her head rolls downward and hangs there, searching for the right words. How did she come to be in this mess? You make one promise with a man and get lifetime access to his trauma and woes? This is why she likes women. -- Though... it can’t be denied that what happened to Caleb -- it’s fucking tragic. 

      And maybe he needs this. Needs to share his story with someone -- anyone. Even if they’re a near-fucking stranger and a goblin mother.

      “You know that’s...” She looks up again. There’s a sort of somber tone to her expression that isn’t usually seen -- something serious and clear, and almost tentative. “Fucked up, right. That what happened was -- so traumatic -- that it, like, fucked you up, right. If you needed to escape then--” a shrug-- “you needed to escape.”

      Even if he had to escape his own damn mind.

      Another pause. Beau shifts the other way. She is still watching him, though she does look for a split second at Nott. She is a little unsure -- but, fuck it, she’s trying, okay. “At least-- you know who you are, now? Right? I mean...”

[eauregard-sb]

hey. psst. come outside. don't tell the others. YOU CAN REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE!

     her response (in her head): a loud, angry, oh shit!

     several minutes later, when beau wanders out, visibly unimpressed, into the dark night of whatever grand new disaster of a town the mighty nein (mighty -- seven? --nah.) have been asked to help, she rolls a natural six and therefore sees nothing but lamplight and dark shadows and two moons and the stars. 

     it’s a nice, dark night. but for beau there is only a thin layer of frustration. she looks both ways down the street. takes one or two steps one of the ways. waits a moment. takes another step or two.

     pauses.

     brow furrowed, and cupping her hands around her (sticky) mouth and chin -- she does a couple shitty little pigeon coos. coo, where the fuck ARE you guys, coo.

[eauregard-sb]

[holds out hand for memes]

[kowbonez]

Beau is goals.

Trying something a little different with lineart

I’ve got a twitter, come say hi

[midnigtartist]

More character redraw! Love the empire kids

[ownweapon]

EVERYTHING BEGINS AND ENDS AT THE KENTUCKY CLUB SENTENCE STARTERS / CHANGE PRONOUNS & TWEAK AS NECESSARY

Written by Benjamin Alire Sáenz (author of Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe), this book compiles seven short stories set between El Paso, Texas and Juárez, Chihuahua. The Kentucky Club, a real-life bar a few blocks south of the border crossing in Juárez, appears as a linking motif in all seven stories that touch on themes of survival, grief, family, love and sexuality.

HE HAS GONE TO BE WITH THE WOMEN

Some people are so beautiful that they belong everywhere they go.

And anyway, no one knew who I was. Not even me.

I’m not looking for a hook-up.

Everybody knows who you are.

The world’s a big place.

The world you live in can give you all the specifics you need.

You seem not to notice anything except the book you’re reading.

You’re beautiful. And me? Not so beautiful.

You’re something better than beautiful.

What’s better than beautiful?

Interesting is much better than beautiful.

If I don’t say anything, I’ll stay interesting.

I’m not afraid of getting killed. Are you?

I don’t mind. I like the way you look at me.

I could look at you for a long time.

You can kiss me again.

Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve kissed anyone?

I thought about you when I woke up this morning.

You’re not sad. You’re just hurt.

Nothing will happen. We can live like this forever.

You don’t have to tell me what I already know.

You must have been very handsome.

I never gave it much thought.

Since when is being handsome a virtue?

I didn’t like thinking about what I looked like. I don’t think I liked having a body.

Someone hurt me. When I was a boy.

I’m happy you loved him so much.

THE ART OF TRANSLATION

How could they have done this? How could they do this to you?

Shouldn’t everyone’s scars be silent and hidden?

I knew that something in me had died.

No one’s going to hurt you here.

You said you wanted to learn the meanings of every word that existed in the world.

Scars are not just places of hurt. They’re places of healing.

You could learn to love anything.

He’s a little young for you, isn’t he?

You never used to drink.

There’s a lot of things I never used to do.

THE RULE MAKER

I remember the first time I got into a fight. I wasn’t any good at it.

Don’t ever answer the door if I’m not here.

She doesn’t like to talk. I have that in common with her.

So you’re a fucking comedian.

I don’t like people who cry about things.

I’ve been numb most of my life. That’s how I’ve survived.

What if you don’t come home? What will I do?

I wasn’t interested in god and I didn’t think he was interested in me either.

We just sort of ignored each other.

What’s wrong with you? You want people to notice us?

I wanted to find out what I had become.

I don’t know. And you don’t know either.

There’s a lot of shit that goes down here. I don’t want you in the middle of it.

People who worry never change.

BROTHER IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE

Instead of winding up dead, I wound up in a therapist’s office.

Silly boy, you are alive.

Do you have any idea what you’ve done to them?

It might mean they love you.

Hating your father is a lot of work.

Do you know what to do with love?

I just don’t hate her. I feel sorry for her.

Don’t you think everyone deserves to be loved?

No. Not everyone deserves to be loved.

And anyway, that’s not the way it works.

It’s so unnecessary to hate a man who hates himself as much as you do.

I never knew what to say.

Really? You seem comfortable enough with words.

I have a formal and aesthetic relationship with words.

Do you hate yourself for loving me and not him?

There’s no one in the world left to love me.

Sometimes decent people make you do decent things.

Why would anybody want to feel alive?

SOMETIMES THE RAIN

Thinking was the last thing they were interested in.

I didn’t have a plan.

Talking and sleeping, those were my two favourite things.

I think I wanted her to dump me. And it’s not as if I was gonna marry her.

How’d you learn to think?

Maybe I just need to get out of here.

You should leave too. You’re too good for this fucking place.

You want to pretend that nothing’s going on between us?

If I don’t leave this goddamn place, I’m gonna go nuts.

You need a life. I need a life.

Being alone was good. Really, really good.

Get in the car.

Are you sure you don’t want to go to a doctor?

I’m tired of being sorry. I’m so fucking tired.

I know. I’m just being an asshole.

You’re not. You’re not an asshole.

I could sit here forever.

Me too. So long as you were sitting right next to me.

You think you can do this all by yourself?

This is how you start to live again.

Get yourself happy.

What about you?

Oh, I think I’ll get myself happy too.

I think about you sometimes.

I should have kissed you. But I was so afraid you wouldn’t kiss me back.

When I go home again, will you be there?

I promise to stop being afraid.

CHASING THE DRAGON

Neither of them appears to be happy.

Being right about things doesn’t mean a damn thing in this world.

Have you fallen in love yet?

It’s not as if I have to choose.

When are you going to introduce me to him?

I was looking at the photograph.

She doesn’t love you. She doesn’t love anyone.

It hurts everywhere. Can’t you see that?

You really think she’ll ever want to come back?

I knew you were lying.

How? I’m a pretty good liar.

You can’t lie to me. You just can’t.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to lie to you. It’s nice to tell the truth.

We were never young, not ever.

I’m not sure what to think about that.

What’s wrong with a little happiness?

I like you. There’s something about you that’s real.

And, in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re beautiful to look at.

The thing is that I hate my fucking job.

You’re better than that. You’re smarter than that.

Doesn’t it matter what I want?

You’re not taking your meds, are you?

I’m not judging. You know me better. I just worry.

So talk today or talk tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.

And you find him again, the dragon, and you want to live with him forever. But you can’t.

I was born old.

I’m telling you the truth.

That’s why I want you to stop.

THE HURTING GAME

Now? It’s one thirty in the morning.

You were asleep?

What else would I be doing at one thirty in the morning?

I could think of a few things.

Take it any way you can get it, babe.

Sometimes reading makes you feel alive.

Let’s just say I like to sleep with people I find interesting.

How many people do you find interesting?

You’re quiet tonight.

I don’t always have something to say.

You’re a mystery.

I could fall in love with a guy like you.

That’s a load of crap. You just think I’m pretty to look at.

We make the rules and we can always change them.

He’ll just be a bad memory one day.

You’re a better man than you think you are.

Love’s a hurting game, don’t you know that? But it’s worth it.

Sometimes it’s worth it.

We have touch. It’s good. Let’s just leave it at that.

You always a wiseass?

You don’t know what you’re missing.

I’ve never tried walking out in front of a bus. I’m pretty sure I know what would happen.

Don’t get any ideas. I’m not your fucking wife.

Yeah, well, life is a little bigger than all of us.

Maybe that’s the key to it all, that we’re all fucked up and the only way we survive is to do the love thing, you know?

You told me once that you didn’t do the love thing.

[nil-elk]

She blue.

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