Based on what Marisha said in talks tonight, I love the idea that her less than careful handling of Pate is like this joyful embracing of “physical consequences don’t matter cuz he’s already dead”. Especially because Laudna used to have that for herself. In earlier episodes, she seemed to be equally carefree with her own physical vulnerabilities (dislocating joints, pulling out hair, etc) because she already died and came back. She had a powerful woman in her head that kept her alive. It wasn’t ideal by any means but she did the Laudna thing and found joy in embracing the perceived lack of consequences for herself.
Then she died, for real. She saw how hard it was to bring her back and without Delilah, the consequences are very much real again. But she still finds that outlet in Pate. It feels like a more bonding/shared experience. Like she’s showing him where he can find joy in his undeath and still holding on to that carefree playfulness that she can’t truly afford for herself anymore.
How do I explain to you people that interracial relationships are okay
Not every white person dating a POC is fetishizing. White people can be respectful and responsible when it comes to culture and relationships and not everyone has bad intentions.
Asian people can date Black people without you saying shit like “your kids will be so pretty” they’re not dating for pretty kids. They’re dating bc they like each other.
Someone can dress their partner in clothing from their culture if they want. Someone can take their partner to cultural events if they want.
People in relationships can share cultures, experiences and love without it being toxic or skin deep.
Their partner isn’t culturally appropriating. Their partner is being shown the ultimate form of love, bc their partner trusts them and loves them enough to share their history and heritage.
Yeah, dating someone from your culture is nice bc you automatically have similar experiences. But you’re not limited to dating people with the same experiences. Loving someone is sharing and growing and being together.
Interracial relationships aren’t always toxic, and some of y’all need to stop projecting onto other people.
This is an Ashley Johnson appreciate post. Every significant imodna moment in cr3 I've had to watch 3 times:
to ✨experience✨ it
to pay attention to Marisha and Laura's faces
for Ashley's reaction
Because her reactions tell me that it wasn't just me noticing the gay shit!! It wasn't my bias as a viewer. Ashley's literally sandwiched in between these two amazing actors and she's as awed as the rest of us!
Listen, I love her as Fearne. I love how Fearne is chaotic and vengeful and unapologetic. But I love Ashley as a player even more. Because, especially this campaign, she's so open about how much she's enjoying the game! This is a group of incredibly talented professionals telling a story together. But it's also just a group of friends playing d&d. And I think there's something so unifying, about seeing another person who loves d&d enjoying d&d the same way I do. Our games probably couldn't be more different. But to actually see, to have video proof, that other people have that same instinctual, immediate, joyful reaction to the game as my friends and I do? There's something magical about that to me. And Ashley shows that in the most honest, unfiltered way that I've seen online.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the Ruidus stuff Imogen pulled out in the battle with Delilah and we know that Imogen took damage to deal damage. But this is Campaign 3, the stakes are HIGH. So I can’t help but wonder if it does more than that.
My crazy theory is that the damage Imogen dealt lowered Delilah’s maximum hit points. Especially since Laura only brought it out after we saw her healing abilities. But if that’s the case, Imogen’s max hit points probably took a hit too. So she’s literally draining her life force in exchange for that power.
And if I were Matt, that life force would go straight to Ruidus. It would contribute to whatever shit was going on up there. Which also would explain why Otohan went as hard as she did. She would literally have been trying to unlock a new source of power for her moon.
Imogen promises to bring Laudna home and we only get the barest of nods from Laudna. Probably because Laudna has long since lost track of how long she’s been stuck here. Tortured indefinitely, constantly wishing to be freed, how can she have hope that it will work this time?
But instead of saying that, which might hurt Imogen, she does something different. She’s honest, she shows a bit of vulnerability to Imogen in a way she never has before. She doesn’t sugarcoat her reality at all. I just love in that moment where an honest response would have hurt/discouraged Imogen, Laudna still found a way to be honest. And she did so in a way that showed how much she trusts Imogen.
It’s almost like she’s saying that even though she’s too tired, too hurt to feel hopefully anymore, she trusts Imogen enough to not close that door. She’s holding onto the possibility of hope because she believes in Imogen. Always has, always will.
Sometimes thoughts are verbal but sometimes they’re visual. And I can’t stop thinking about the implications of that for Imogen. Does she see the visuals too?
Does her blood run cold when they walk through the sun tree? Because she’s seen this skyline, each time laudna told her story. Does she panic as she realizes that the path they cut through the city is the same one Laudna took 50 years ago? When they reach the castle grounds, is she filled with all the fear that Laudna was too hopeful and trusting to have? It must be surreal to be making the walk so many years later, surrounded by a crowd of hopeful people.
After last night’s episode, I have hope that everyone will be brought back with revivify. But I can’t stop thinking about how this will impact Imogen’s dynamic with the storm and her nightmares.
With all her guilt, I can totally see her perspective changing. Like episodes go by and instead of dreading it, Imogen starts to welcome sleep, welcome her nightmares. She looks forward to walking into the storm each night. Over and over and over she gives in, lets the storm swallow her, for every second in combat that she could have saved her friends and she didn’t. And as terrifying and painful it is, there’s also a little bit of relief. Because each time she does, she’s proving to herself that she can do it again to save her friends. She won’t hesitate next time, no one will get hurt because of her.
She embraces the deafening winds and the rains that cut at her skin. Imogen lets herself drown in the chaos and feels a weight lift from her chest. Because maybe this is what she deserves, rather than the understanding and sympathy and support from the people she failed. She can’t listen to them without hearing the impact of Otohan’s blade against their sternum, can’t look at them without seeing their faces contorted in pain. It’s easier to embrace the storm than to look at Laudna’s face and see flashes of her form truly lifeless, eyes dull, music silenced. And know that it’s all her fault.
The thing that surprised Laudna most about the incident, as she’d taken to calling it, was how cold Imogen’s anger was.
In her mind, Imogen was always associated with warmth. Whether it was their fingers laced together, walking through the market, Imogen’s presence beside her in bed each night, the jokes she made that brought a flush to even Laudna’s lifeless complexion. Even in anger Imogen was alive with a warmth that brought Laudna comfort. But ever since their fight, it was like the sun had gone out. The image of Imogen’s face devoid of caring or engagement as she murmured “Yeah, I’ll bet” before turning away, chilled her to the core, each time it rose in her mind’s eye.
It confused Laudna endlessly. Anger she understood. She had betrayed Imogen’s trust, broken something important to her. But this wasn’t the eyes flashing white, lightning bolt kind of anger. It wasn’t the sharp, biting retorts Imogen would use with shopkeepers who refused to sell to Laudna. It wasn’t even the ranting, pacing kind of anger she’d seen when the Conservatory wouldn’t grant them admittance. Instead, Imogen had taken a deep breath and gone to bed. And that was somehow worse than all the other reactions combined.
Laudna mulled over it constantly. What did it mean? How could she make it better? Would fixing the rock even be enough? She turned it over in her head, again and again, terrified to act, convinced she would make things worse. That is, until a conversation with the Bell’s Hells brought everything to a halt. She wasn’t sure how the topic of parents got started, too busy trying to read Imogen’s facial expressions. It was only then that Laudna realized that she’d seen Imogen like this before, when talking about her own father.
“He was fine Laud. He loved me but all *this* was a lot to deal with.” Imogen had said, gesturing to her head.
When Laudna had commented that that didn’t seem fair to Imogen, she’d only shrugged, a bitter smile on her face. “I learned a long time ago that expectin’ people to be somethin’ they’re not will only lead to disappointment. Better to just accept it an’ move on.”
A cavern seemed to open up in the pit of Laudna’s stomach as she went over the incident again in her head. Her hand becoming stuck, the panic, the apologizing, Imogen’s soft “you lied” which seemed to shatter Laudna’s heart in a million pieces. But then the withdrawal, going to bed without talking, the coldness since. Ice seemed to curl its way up along Laudna’s spine at the realization.
“Come now Darling,” Delilah’s words echoed in her mind. “You didn’t truly expect her to keep trusting a puppet like you?”
“I’m not a puppet” Laudna thought, aiming for forcefully but landing on hesitant, the memory of the rock’s power still too fresh in her mind.
“Aren’t you, though?” Delilah whispered, her words carrying the weight of magic as Laudna felt control of her limbs fall away.
I love the idea of being like 70 episodes in, BH finally figure out Imogen’s moon stuff, and Imogen is super powerful now.
They go into another battle, laudna dies AGAIN (bc at this point I’m pretty sure we’re going to need a counter just to keep track of how many times it happens). FCG ofc brings her back. Afterward, Laudna’s like “don’t worry Imogen, I’d never leave you.”
Then a crying Imogen is like “damn right” and just becomes Laudna’s warlock patron by sheer force of will. Her powers are:
1. Cannot die
2. Expertise in crafting
3. Pate becomes a familiar
4. An aura with a “calm emotions” type of effect so that laudna can be “fun scary” with kids
Bonus, we get a Imogen v Delilah fight to determine who gets to stay Laudna’s patron.
The question caught Imogen off guard. When was the last time some had asked to be a presence in her mind? She’d been doing her best to block Laudna out this whole time, to shield herself from the details she knew would confirm her worst fears. But she couldn’t say no to Laudna, with her kind eyes and pleading expression. So she nodded, steeling herself against her worst fears and allowed their minds to meet.
It wasn’t words that she registered first but music. At first it was bright and lively as the scene unfolded before her. It was the moment in the tavern, their friends around them. She could feel Laudna’s amusement, her joy, as the conversation flowed. She saw herself next to Laudna, shoulders touching as they shared an amused glance at Dorian’s floundering. It was both familiar and alien, witnessing the reflection of her own memory, only devoid of the mental balancing act that came with her own recollection.
But then, through Laudna’s eyes, she saw herself look away, drawn by the call of another in the group. From there the vision diverged from her memory, Laudna taking bites of food she hadn’t witnessed, laughing at a joke from Ashton that she’d missed. The music began to change too. It became slower, slipping into a minor key, the volume reducing. The color of the memory began to fade too, as if seen through a milky film. Imogen felt, in tandem with Laudna, as the emotions slipped into an emptiness. There was an awareness that she should want to push through the film, a thought adjacent to desire. But all she felt was exhausted melancholy. The vision faded to monochrome, the melody silenced. It was so cold. And Imogen found herself wondering if this was what death felt like.
But then suddenly, a jolt of electricity kicked everything back into motion again. The color returned, the melody, and her vision turned to take in her own face, contorted in pain.
The vision continued to shift, filtering through many more memories like this. Some she had a reflection of in her own mind. Others she had not been present for. But all of them contained the same fading, like being mentally enveloped in cotton.
The images shifted faster, this time fluctuating at the edges, as if imagined. The melody was almost frantic as the world transitioned from first to third person. She saw images of Laudna, falling behind the group as she lost herself. Then there were moments in battle, Laudna mid-spell as her limbs fell limp and her mind drifted. The melody began to crescendo. Enemies pushing past her body, facing no resistance to fell Imogen. The music was so fast , it was impossible to distinguish single notes. She watched how Laudna’s form was pulled upright by red strings, puppeted by a shadowy female figure, her magic turned on Imogen. It was just noise now, messy and atonal and impossible to think through, the aural equivalent of panic. She watched herself fall to inky black eldritch blasts, a cackle from Laudna distinctly not her own, cutting through it all.
Imogen pulled away as fast as she could just as the spiral narrowed to a terminal descent.
Laudna!
Electricity sparked from her fingers in alarm and her vision cleared. She was back in their bedroom, pulling away from Laudna. Black streams of ichor trailed her cheeks, dripping onto the sheets. Laudna pulled away too, shaking fingers wiping away the tears. Imogen’s heart clenched as she realized she’d never seen Laudna truly cry before.
“Sorry, I’m making a mess,” she sniffed, using her lace handkerchief to dab the bed sheet.
“It’s okay, we can wash it later.” Imogen kept her voice quiet, gentle, as she cupped Laudna’s cheek, guiding her to meet her gaze.
Any relief that it wasn’t her driving Laudna away was drowned out by the lingering terror of the what she’d witnessed.
This is why you want to leave?
Emotions warred inside Imogen as she forced herself to ask the question. The fear in Laudna’s visions was visceral and she could still feel the echoes of it thrumming through her. She wanted to hug her tight until the terror evaporated, to promise her that those visions would never come to pass. But the reality was they didn’t truly know what made Laudna the way that she was. It made her want to storm the Starpoint Conservatory and demand all the access and answers they needed. Anything to keep them together.
Laudna nodded, giving her a sad smile, “I’m not alive Imogen. Not really. I thought coming to the city, being around more people, would fix things somehow. But if anything, the differences are worse and I’m-”
I’m holding you back
Like hell you are. Her thought was almost a growl, the ridiculousness of such an idea. Laudna, you are such a light in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
For one, you’d actually be able to interact with people instead of being turned away because of me.
Anger swelled in Imogen at the tired certainty of the statement. It was anger at the people who’d made her girl feel this way, for their shallow closed-mindedness. And anger at herself, for not noticing the extent of its effects on Laudna. What good were her abilities if not to help the person she cared about most?
I don’t care to interact with idiots like that.
Imogen…
I’m serious, Laud. You think the kinds of people who react negatively to you would act any differently toward me once they saw what I could do? Your presence doesn’t hold me back. It liberates me.
That’s a sweet sentiment darling, but you can’t deny that day to day interactions would still be easier for you.
They wouldn’t be. Imogen huffed, she sometimes forgot she wasn’t the only stubborn one in their pairing. Your company, our life together? It’s priceless to me. Avoiding the judgment of a few shop hands is pennies in comparison.
But what if my company isn’t always my company? I don’t know what happened to me, what might continue to happen. I don’t want to put you in danger.
You won’t. If something happens to me, it will be because of Delilah, not you.
It will be my fault, because I chose to stay.
Doesn’t it matter that I’m asking you to stay too? There are risks with every decision. From the moment we agreed to work for Eshteross, we were putting ourselves in danger. But we decided it was worth it. And now I’m telling you that you are worth all the risks to me.
Laudna’s eyes had turned wholly black from the tears, shed and unshed. Her face was contorted in sorrow and Imogen would have done anything to take away that pain.
I can’t hurt you Imogen, I couldn’t live with myself.
Then stay. We’ll find answers together. We’ve got access to the conservatory now. We can find a way to get Delilah out of your head. You know we make the best team, you said so yourself.
Imogen brought her lips to Laudna’s wrinkled brow, trying to smooth the worry away. Brushing cool skin, she willed the contact to convey all the messy love in her heart, the utter certainty that they would survive this together. Laudna sagged beneath her touch.
You really think we’ll figure it out?
Laudna’s question was softer, lighter, this time and it ignited a fierce hope in Imogen’s chest.
I promise.
A moment passed in tense silence as Imogen waited, watching the journey of indecision on Laudna’s face. If she decided to go, there would be nothing she could do. But she hoped, more than she ever had in her life, that her assurances would be enough. Truly her life would be shades of gray without Laudna in it.
… Alright
You’ll stay?
Laudna nodded, more confidently this time, and Imogen couldn’t contain her smile. She felt lighter as Laudna’s lips tilted upward in return and she pulled her in for a tight hug. The music was back, soft and hesitant but happy. And it left Imogen feeling like she could fly.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
No need to thank me, Darling. There’s no place I’d rather be.
It didn’t solve everything, their future was still uncertain and there were a lot of unanswered questions. But as they curled back into bed, back into each other, that didn’t matter so much. They’d have all the time in the world to address it, together.
Imogen’s hand burned in her own as Laudna looked into lavender eyes. The words rang in her head and the hot knot in her throat tightened further. For a moment Laudna considered playing it off, to act as if Imogen was just asking her to sleep in like they did sometimes, when they had nowhere to be. It would be easy, Laudna told herself, to pretend that’s what Imogen meant. She would smile and say that she was just getting a glass of water, that she’d be right back. Imogen would smile in return and wait for her. Then they would wile away a couple hours talking about little things until they felt ready to face the world. It would be easy. She wanted it to be easy.
But she was locked in Imogen’s gaze, witness to the tears forming there, mirroring her own. And it was too late, she realized. Imogen knew, knew what she’d been thinking. That she’d intended to leave. It was this that finally made it feel real to Laudna.
“Imogen” Her voice came out hoarse, barely recognizable.
She tried to say more, but her throat was clogged with her grief. This was happening now, she couldn’t stay. Even Imogen would know the extent of her selfishness then.
Imogen pulled on her hand and for a moment, Laudna resisted. It would be so much harder, she knew, to leave if she stayed first. But her will shattered as quickly as it had steeled. Because she was weak, so selfishly weak. So she sat on the bed, inches from Imogen, thinking that at least she could savor her company one last time.
They sat there for a minute in silence, Imogen with her legs tucked under her, holding Laudna’s hand in a vice grip, Laudna with her feet criss-crossed. Separated by a breath’s distance, the gap between them felt like miles. Laudna didn’t know where to begin, which only rattled her more. She couldn’t remember the last time she struggled with talking to Imogen. Usually, she just said what was on her mind. But her thoughts were like leaves in a storm, unable to land long enough for her to make sense of them.
So instead she stared at their hands, Imogen’s delicate fingers interwoven with her elongated gray ones. She could feel the heat of Imogen’s touch burning away the chill in her own. Even now, in an act so simple, she was siphoning away Imogen’s life force. The thought tore at her heart. And this was just the beginning, Laudna knew. Right now it was the little things. Stealing Imogen’s warmth, undermining potential relationships with her startling presence. She didn’t need to read minds to see how people’s faces changed the moment their focus shifted from Imogen to Laudna, the way they withdrew or rushed them out of their stores as quickly as possible.
She’d convinced herself that things would change once they got to a big city. People with more magical knowledge, more worldly experience, would be more understanding. They would see her as a person rather than an undead monster. But all of that hope had been built on the assumption that she was alive, that all she needed to do was be around more living people to prove it. Instead, the last few weeks had only crystalised the ways in which she was not alive, not truly. She just wasn’t quite “there” enough. And as D’s presence in her mind interjected more often, Laudna worried about how wholly herself she would remain. How could she stay, knowing these things?
“I know I don’t have any right to ask this of you Laudna” It was the sound of Imogen’s voice that startled her more than anything.
They rarely, when alone, spoke aloud. And maybe it was the surprise of actually hearing Imogen that jostled the thoughts loose from her head. Or maybe she just couldn’t leave without Imogen knowing how important she was to her. Either way, the words came.
“You have the right to ask anything of me.” The truth of it stung and she resisted the urge to reach for Pate. She owed it to Imogen not to deflect.
“Then stay,” Imogen’s words came out in a rush, soft and pleading. “I can be better, I promise. I’ll give you more privacy, more space. I’ll talk like a normal person. We have leads, with the library. Maybe we’ll find a solution, a way for me to be less of a-an imposition.”
And Laudna was so caught up in the emotion of it that it took her a moment to process the words. When she did, she frowned. An imposition? Imogen? The confusion cut through the shame enough to tear her gaze from their hands to Imogen’s face. And she was startled to find silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Her heart ached.
“Darling, what are you talking about?” Laudna asked, using her free hand to wipe some of them away.
“I just, I know I can be a lot. It can be,” Imogen glanced down and away. “Exhausting. To be around me.”
“Imogen” she touched her chin gently, waiting for Imogen to look at her before continuing. “You are not an imposition. Being with you is,” Laudna switched to speak mentally, not wanting Imogen to doubt the sincerity of her words.
It’s a joy and an honor, one that I’m grateful for every day.
It doesn’t have the desired effect. She can see it in the twist of Imogen’s mouth, the hopeless slump of her shoulders. All she sees is resignation, exhaustion. People had left her before, Laudna knew, or asked her to leave. They were utterly stupid people. And in this moment, she felt just as bad as them, actually worse. Because she was leaving too. She didn’t want to and it wasn’t for the same reasons, not even close. But it was having the same effect on Imogen. How could she have let this happen?
But you’re still leaving.
Imogen didn’t phrase it as a question and Laudna felt fear spike in her chest. She didn’t want to go, gods she didn’t want to go. The thought of it made her sick. But staying would hurt Imogen more and she couldn’t bear that. Laudna just didn’t know how to say that, didn’t know what words would make her believe that it really, really wasn’t her fault. She had to try though.
It’s not because of you Imogen. It’s me… I just
And that’s where Laudna got lost. Because how could she sum up all the chaos in her mind?
It’s not you, it’s me.
Imogen’s mocking tone was drowned in sadness, accompanied by a sardonic laugh. It made Laudna flinch as she replayed what she said with new ears.
That’s not- I’m making a mess of this.
Laudna could feel the desperation growing in her chest at this point. Imogen was pulling away and everything she said made it worse. A small voice whispered that it was better this way, it’d be easier to stay away if she knew Imogen didn’t want her back. But even as it spoke, every cell in her body seemed to rebel against the idea. She couldn’t live with leaving things like this.
It was maybe a couple of days into teaming up with the larger group that Imogen noticed it for the first time. They were sitting at a long table tucked in the back of the tavern for a quick lunch. Fearne had said something patently wild that had the rest of the table erupting into laughter and follow up questions. The buzzing in her head reached a fever pitch in the excitement, causing a sensation like a knife driving from one temple to the other, directly behind her eyes. Her vision blurred from the pain and Imogen, like always, reached for the soothing balm of Laudna’s melodic mind. Only… she couldn’t feel it.
Panic spiked through her as she reached out farther, eyes searching for Laudna’s. It was almost disorienting to find the woman right next to her, to see her but not feel her mind. To anyone else it likely would have seemed like Laudna was lost in thought, fork held lightly and her face wearing a vacant expression. But she wasn’t there. Imogen could feel the absence more than the thousands of needles seemingly trying to burrow their way through her skull. Her heart clenched in fear.
Hand falling to Laudna’s, Imogen flinched at the contact. Laudna always ran cool, a comfortable counterbalance to Imogen’s unusual warmth. But as Imogen intertwined their fingers and squeezed, the temperature was frigid. Laudna didn’t move, didn’t seem to notice her.
Another larger group got seated at the next table over and Imogen squeezed harder, this time against the pain as the volume, in the tavern and her head, doubled. She felt heat rise in her hands and arms. As she fought not to drown in the sea of thoughts, a faint purple glow became just barely visible through her sleeves.
“Not here” she begged herself, willing her body to stay in control as her vision faded to white. “Please”
She could feel the small quakes of electricity beginning to flow down her arms to her fingertips. She wouldn’t be able to hold it in much longer. She needed to get out of here, but how? She couldn’t see or stand. Thinking, at this point, was getting farther out of reach. She wasn’t a person anymore, just disembodied pain.
“Imogen?” A melodic voice cut through the noise, echoing as it reached both her mind and ears. A cool palm cupped her cheek, a relief against the heat of her electricity. “Are you okay darling? Want to head outside?”
The words enveloped her like a melody clearing away some of the static. It was an anchoring point that allowed Imogen to breathe. In for four, out for eight. It took a minute but eventually her vision cleared and Laudna’s face came into focus. Her brow was scrunched in concern, her black eyes scanning Imogen’s face. The noise was fading away quicker now and she leaned her forehead against Laudna’s in relief, letting her eyes flutter close.
It’s getting better now Laud, thank you.
She focused on Laudna’s slow breathing, trying to match her pace.
If you say so darling. Anything I can do to help?
You already are, Imogen responded honestly.
The pain was already receding to a dull throb and she could feel the wave of exhaustion that typically followed these instances creeping up on her.
But maybe we can head home soon. I think I could use a nap.
Of course, I’ll call for the bill.
Relief flooded her as Laudna turned to signal the waitress and she allowed her head to drop to Laudna’s shoulder. The music had returned, soft and soothing. And in her exhaustion, Imogen briefly forgot that it had disappeared in the first place.
It was a few weeks later that Imogen found herself faking sleep in the early hours of the morning. She probably should have felt guilty about it and she definitely would later, but at the moment she was too busy fighting the dread in the pit of her stomach.
It had all started a few days ago, when Imogen had awoken to find Laudna already awake. She’d thankfully enjoyed a night free of nightmares and came to consciousness slowly. She could hear Laudna’s irregular breathing, a bit faster than when she slept. So she curled into Laudna’s side, not quite ready to face the day yet.
“Mornin’” she mumbled, feeling Laudna flinch in surprise against her before placing an arm around her.
“Morning darling, sleep well?” Laudna's cheerful response sounded a bit clipped as she spoke, her melody slipping into a minor chord as she spoke.
She almost didn’t catch it, sleepy as she was. Imogen only hummed affirmatively in response, her mind bordering on the edge of the comfortable darkness of a dreamless sleep. It was quiet for a minute and Imogen felt herself drifting back to that place as cool fingers drew circular patterns on her back.
One more day. It can’t hurt to stay one more day.
Laudna’s voice echoed in her head, strained and contemplative and definitely enough to wake Imogen up. Her eyes shot open to find Laudna staring at where her fingers trailed up and down her back.
“Did you say something Laud?” It certainly hadn’t felt like a thought meant for her ears.
Laudna glanced back up at her, seeming a bit distracted. “Hmm? No sorry, just daydreaming.” She gave Imogen a quick smile before crawling out of bed. “But enough of that, we’ve got a busy day today. Said we’d meet the others an hour after sunrise right?” She grabbed Pate and her towel from the nightstand. “Pate and I are going to wash up! See you in a few!”
Imogen had spent the rest of the day pondering Laudna’s words, watching her carefully for any kind of explanation. She didn’t pry into her mind, despite the temptation. Though the decision was more likely driven by fear of what she’d find there rather than a sense of principles. But she seemed normal, or normal for Laudna at least. And by the end of the day, Imogen had convinced herself she’d just dreamt what she heard. She’d been out of it anyway.
But then the next morning it happened again. Laudna was awake before her and she caught a passing thought
It’d be better if I just left now.
It hadn’t stopped that day either. Imogen maybe didn’t work quite so hard over the following days to block out Laudna’s thoughts. And she caught bits and pieces. Thoughts of leaving, plans of when to do so. And she noticed a couple more times when she couldn’t feel Laudna at all. Was Laudna blocking her out? She’d never done that before and the idea gave her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
As the week went on, the panic crawled higher and higher in Imogen’s chest until she constantly felt like she was going to upend the contents of her stomach. And that’s how she got here, listening to Laudna’s private surface thoughts as she considered what to pack and where she should head next. Imogen was frozen in place, unable to move or speak, just stuck listening to her favorite person in the world work through the logistics of how to leave her.
Her insides churned as she listened, thinking about all the people she’d pushed away. Her friends back home, her father, all people she’d grown up beside her entire life, and now Laudna. She couldn’t blame them really. For leaving or asking her to leave. It was a lot, she knew, to deal with her. To sacrifice your right to your most basic sense of privacy, just for a girl who couldn’t get her shit together.
Honestly, it was a surprise Laudna had lasted two whole years. It was a testament really, to the kind of amazing, compassionate, loving person Laudna was that she’d stayed. Imogen couldn’t fault her for running out of patience, especially after everything she’d done for her. She had to let her go, Imogen told herself, ignoring the way her heart seemed to claw at her throat, begging her to ask Laudna to stay. It would be selfish to handle it any other way. Laudna deserved a better life than one Imogen could offer.
Imogen was pulled from her internal struggle as she felt the bed dip and release as Laudna stood up. It happened faster than Imogen could process. One moment she was reminding herself of all the reasons Laudna deserved better than this life, a better life than her. And the next, she was up and kneeling on the bed, arm outstretched to capture Laudna’s hand in her own. Laudna turned to look at her with surprised eyes, shiny with unshed tears. And Imogen’s heart final broke through her chest as she said
Laudna was fascinated with death, always had been. As a child it had been a morbid curiosity. Growing up on a farm, raising animals, she was no stranger to death. People treated life and death as a binary. But she’d grown up watching the slaughter of animals for harvest season. And she knew there was the point where a creature was definitely alive and a point where it was definitely dead. But there was also that in between space that she could never figure out. Some people said it was when the heart stopped beating. Others said you knew when the light left their eyes. But doesn’t a heart stop beating between thumps? And doesn’t the light is a person’s eyes also fade when they are sad or sick? Laudna would spend hours pondering these questions as she raked hay or feed the pigs, wishing there was a way she could know more.
…this was not the way she’d hoped to know more. Coming back from the dead had been an unsettling experience to say the least. Waking up amongst the bodies of the dead, shivering against a cold that was bone deep. She’d felt numb for many days after that, her emotions muted while her mind raced, grasping for what to do next. She hadn’t expected death to motivate a desire to live so strongly. But as she moved from town to town, fleeing ignorant and angry people, that was the only thing she could latch onto, the desire to live. Those years of fear and isolation were colored by that drive. She’d tried to convince herself, if she could just find the right place with open minded people and cute decor and new experiences, she’d really be alive again.
In some ways, she’d been right, Laudna would realize as she stared up at the ceiling of their bedroom in Zhudanna’s, Imogen asleep beside her. She had all of that now and she could feel the happiness of it in each conversation she had, each time she teased Dorian or made Imogen laugh. But she could also feel the underpinning of sorrow that she tried to hide with too wide smiles and lewd Pate jokes. Because she still felt apart from the rest of them, an echo amongst their booming voices. There would be moments where her grip on the present would slip. Lights would dim, sounds wound buzz, the edge of her reality, both physical and emotional would dull. The voice in her head would tell her to panic, but in those moments she couldn’t reach an emotion that strong. It was like trying to gain momentum as she swam upstream.
Imogen never commented on these moments and Laudna wondered if it was because she couldn’t notice them. On the nights that Imogen fell asleep first Laudna would find herself wondering if it was because in those moments, Imogen was too alive and Laudna too dead. She swallowed tears on those nights, fighting the ache in her chest so that she wouldn’t leave black streaks of evidence on the pillowcase. True life, she’d think to herself, would forever be out of her reach. Her heart would always beat to slow, her blushes warm too little, her emotions dull too often. What kind of existence was that? Where the only constant emotion was a desire for the things she couldn’t have?
As her thoughts spiraled they would meld with the hateful voices of the countless mobs she’d encountered. Was it selfish of her to grasp for the kind of life she could never have? Was she bringing death to the people she cared about rather than they bringing life to her? She thought of Imogen, with her big heart, mischievous sense of humor, and devilish curiosity. She had a world of possibilities and hopefully answers, mapped out before her. Laudna thought of the ways she’d lit up working in this new group, her girl’s smile in the heat of the moment and the way she seemed to glow with contentment after each new adventure. Meanwhile, Laudna would find herself struggling to maintain a grip on those same emotions rather than slipping back to her numb-er equilibrium. One day, would it be her standing in between Imogen and a vibrant life? Was she already doing so?
Her heart ached from the guilt of it all. On bad nights, she’d wake with the melancholy clinging to her like her own ichor. On worse nights, she wouldn’t sleep at all. She’d just stare at the ceiling, convincing herself that she should leave now, before she ruined Imogen’s chance at a good life. But her feet wouldn’t move. And then Imogen would wake, soft, lavender eyes finding hers. Laudna’s chest would expand with a warm buzzing feeling she didn’t understand but loathed to lose. And the next thing she knew, she was convincing herself to stay just a little bit longer. It was selfish, so incredibly selfish. But she ignored it just like she ignored D’s knowing laughter.
Imogen had seen love a thousand different ways between thousands of different people. With thoughts bombarding her all the time, it was hard not to notice those sorts of things. It was the “I hope she comes by tonight” in the mind of a young halfling buy flowers at the market. And the “No mushrooms tonight, Marilyn hates those” reminder as an older half orc browsed the produce stalls.
Some moments were more intense. The pleading “pleases” in Orym’s head as he rushed to Dorian in battle. Or the “thank the gods” in FCG’s after Ashton returned from some of their more risky dalliances. Imogen’s abilities accessed more thought than emotion. But still, after all this time, she considered herself somewhat of an expert on recognizing love. How odd it had taken her so long to recognize it in herself.
Perhaps it was because what Laudna made her feel was so different, even from the beginning. Since the moment Laudna had been close enough for her mind to recognize, her thoughts brought with it a musicality that drowned out all the noise. The other voices receded to a soft hum, almost imperceptible beneath the chorus of Laudna’s musings. Laudna presence never failed to provide her mind with some relief. Was it so surprising then, when that music began to leave her skin buzzing? Or that the quiet moments she shared with Laudna began to loosen the tightness that’d taken up residence in her chest years earlier?
It seemed only natural, the way Laudna’s antics left Imogen laughing and buoyed with fondness. Teasing Dorian, prodding FCG, bantering with Chetney, Laudna brought a joviality to it all. Why should she be surprised then, when her jokes and compliments left Imogen with a beaming smile and the sensation that she was shining from the inside out.
It wasn’t her, it was Laudna. Laudna, who had taken a lonely, awful situation and found joy within it. Laudna, who took broken, rundown, and abandoned old things and made them pretty and useful again. Laudna, who lived so vibrantly you’d forget she’d died. Laudna, who had a sort of magic that had been saving Imogen from the beginning.
For so long, she’d thought that’s what it was. Laudna was special and magical and just simply lovely. It was her identity at the core, it had nothing to do with Imogen. Imogen was just grateful for their friendship to beginning with.
It had taken her much too long, especially as a self-proclaimed expert on diagnosing love, before things clicked into place. How many times had she shared a laugh with Laudna? Locked eyes with her from across the table in shared appreciation for their new life together? Felt her heart stutter, her cheeks flush, her skin prickle from the sheer thrill of their moments together. Time after time, month after month, year after year, that’s what it was. An appreciation for their friendship, their life, their progress, that seemed too strong to put into words.
Until one day, it was more than that. Instead, as she belly-laughed at Laudna’s antics, felt the weight of the world expelled with her breath, as their eyes connected in shared amusement, Imogen felt her awareness shift. Her heart still fluttered, cheeks still flushed, skin still prickled. But this time, those things seemed to settle in her with a weight she recognized, with a love.
When she’d reflect on it, Imogen would struggle to pinpoint when exactly things had changed, when friendship and fondness grew to love. But it was an impossible task, like pinpointing the beginning of a sunrise. It had simply happen, constant and inevitable as it brought new warmth and light into her world.
The way Matt uses Esteross to provide the party with disguises because literally everyone forgot that numerous eye witnesses could both identify them at the scene AND attest to them acting very weird, such a DM mood.
