KIROKAZE
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@revcre
independent & private cri.tical role multimuse — penned by katya ( she / her, 30+ ). rules under the cut.
muses ( * primary muses distinguished by an asterisk )
campaign 2.
yas.ha nydoori.n *
cadu.ceus clay
avan.tika ( by request only )
campaign 4.
hala.ndil fang *
vae.lus
bola.ire latha.lia
al.ogar fang
characters stolen from other media who are basically ocs.
cameron averin ( adaptable for any campaign ) *
ksunye ( una ) ( adaptable for any campaign ) *
rules.
on principle, I love the concept of cr abridged.
in practice... I cannot follow the flow of this for anything...
I get to go home from housesitting tomorrow night after work... and I cannot tell you all how eager I am to do so.
playing harp…. so thinking once again about my oc who is built to be a bard lugging an impractical instrument around araman…
he gives a hesitant nod, trying to be polite while still processing the words. an open world is being presented to him, one where he doesn't have to jump whenever his fear barks. but he doesn't view them all like his family.
“ i- i know that, ” occtis says, gently. “ . . . kind of. ” the latter is added with a smile. because in one way, he is expecting them to be like them — perpetually finding fault in him. maybe, just maybe, he can accept the idea that someone could be truly on his side.
he looks back at hal. “ th- ” no, he's already thanked him. that's an appeasing reply. “ i- ” but is he cutting himself off because he's worried hal won't like him aiming to appease? occtis takes a breath. the correct answer is what he wants to say, but nothing substantial comes to mind. “ it- it may take a bit, ” he concludes, with another awkward smile.
hal arches a brow at the false starts, words and sentences cut off that something else might take their place. in the end, however, the challenge that expression makes ebbs itself into a smile and he claps the young man on the shoulder. ❛ it always does, ❜ he agrees, leaving the it vague, such that it might encompass all facets of the changes entailed.
❛ now, ❜ hal says with all the determined emphasis of one eager to shake off a conversation turned far too serious, ❛ I don't know about you, but I for one am not a fan of camping and would rather not still be out here when night falls. let's see what we can do about getting out of the woods here, eh? ❜ what he wouldn't give for the familiar surrounds of the city he's called home for so many years...
that sounds like pin. occtis worries for hal too. it's always hard to tell the people around him that he thinks they should be resting. what if he irritates them? maybe an adorable fox is less provoking, in some circumstances.
“ um . . . ” he looks back at his half-halo of papers. it's hard to explain why it feels safer to do it on the floor. desks and tables are for tests, the ground is for play. but the concern, as always, feels good and he wants to encourage it. “ yeah, ” occtis says, with an abashed smile as he starts to scoop up the papers, “ yeah, i probably should- pin, please! ”
the latter words are said despairingly. the ungovernable fox has reappeared behind hal and is tugging on a mouthful of his pant leg, still trying to get him on the couch.
there is something surreal about the juxtaposition between the mundanity of taking care of a guest in his house and the absurdity of the determined fox, especially situated against the backdrop of all that has transpired. at a certain point, one has to surrender to the ludicrousness of the universe.
hal laughs, shaking his head, but rather than retiring to the couch, he bends down and pries pin from his clothing, scooping him up into his arms. ❛ will you at least ❜ — he speaks to the fox as though to another sentient, rational being — ❛ allow me to get your wizard settled someplace other than the floor before I sit down, if I promise to do so? ❜
what, hal thinks, has his life come to that he's bargaining with a fox — and an undead one, at that...
the answer to 'what am I doing with vae.lus' is probably 'properly canon-divergent it up' because, honestly, there's too much canon compliance on his blog 😅. I've gotta have one. it was inevitable...
also... spoilers for thursday's ep under the cut...
HIS SHOULDERS RELAX AT THE FIRST STEP INSIDE THE HOUSE. it's instinctual at this point, every time he finds himself in the warmth of the house. “ two nights after the funeral, a carriage with sir filoneus halovar was waiting outside. ” azune offers at alogar's mention of hal's paranoia. the photarch had requested a meeting but hal hadn't seen anyone else in the neighborhood thus far. and alogar's comment pointed to the same conclusion. still, too paranoid, or not paranoid enough?
a soldier's greeting is something azune is far more comfortable and that's exactly who alogar has grown into. not the teenager he remembers but a capable young soldier. his own grip wraps around alogar's forearm, tugging him slightly closer. “ someone had to now that... ” actually saying that thjazi is gone, rather than stating the fact of his funeral, is near impossible. although, lately hal had been looking out for him.
there's a quick shake of his head. “ i'm glad to see you all right... we thought you'd found trouble of your own. thaisha and sir julien are looking for you in the eternal night as we speak. ” not the only reason for their travel, but a significant one nevertheless.
his father had filled him in, to the best of his ability, on his mother's and sir julien's endeavors, and alogar laughs now in a way he had not dared then: in a way that belies just how justified his mother's concern — and with hers, that of everyone else — truly was, all circumstances given. still, he has yet to fathom what aid she had thought to offer, arriving days upon the heels of this vision that had driven them in pursuit. ❛ my mother forgets I'm old enough to find trouble and get myself out of it. I know you're supposed to stay put when you're lost, so that you can be found... but I guess there's a bit of a problem if you don't realize you're lost. ❜
the jokes ring hollow, though. his mother's presence at tannesar would have been welcome, all bravado aside, and there is too the guilt — the knowledge that had he merely delayed his journey westward long enough to pass through castle torch, he'd have learned both of his mother's errand and of the futility of his planned return to dol-makjar. of course, he might well have turned right around and gone back into the dark, might well have risked that they would pass each other in the dark...
he should have waited there for their return, joined forces in a concerted effort — though to do what, alogar no longer knows, his clear intention to deliver what he knew to the one person he thought might make something of it undermined even before he had embarked upon it.
but regrets accomplish nothing, and he returns instead to an earlier statement of azune's. ❛ what do the halovars want with my father? ❜
CRITICAL ROLE 4.27 Complicated Questions
+ bonus Kattigan reaction:
the fact that back during the soldier's table I went yeah cam would serve and fight for king gus ages before we met him... and yeah, yeah I was right.
honestly my favorite thing about the overture & the convergence is listening to the other players laugh off stage at shit that happens...
"stone of nightsong, an artifact of your goddess, spoken of so glibly by an assembled group who with all of their ages put together don't equal half your life. will you trail behind occtis? or is there not some part of you that knows: this stone could go back to the abbey and not a single soul here would have anything to say about it?"
brennan gets it. brennan gets the vibes I wanted from vaelus. I want that age. I want that aloofness and, frankly, condescension.
maybe it's the product of liam sitting in the back row of this absolutely insane 13 person table... but something about this scene while they share info is very hal standing with yahrgraz in the corner of his house piping up every so often when people have forgotten he's there... I can't explain it...
bringing back my post from over a month ago in light of brennan giving liam yet more bonuses for his opening night roll...
definitely absolutely nothing is going to happen when hal's theatre troupe opens in a theatre painted with conjuration & necromancy and wielding as props the blades that killed azgrah with a coffin containing a broken mask used to trap and kill a goddess now possessing a sorceress in a box tucked in the prop room.
@revcre sent : “ i have . . . so many questions. ”
he's partially obscured by a worktable, which he peeks over now. he doesn't think his father will come this way unless he's directly seeking him — which he does when he's in a mood like this, looking for some insufficiency to punish. tristan carefully holds teacup, petting the top of her head to calm himself. he'll have to whisk her away to her pocket dimension if his father arrives. she always screeches at him when he yells at tristan.
“ of course, of course, ” he says, quickly, “ anything. ” he's genuinely happy to help. he can imagine being in a similar situation, uneasy with all he doesn't know. but also, it feels like payment for disrupting cam's work and potentially making him nervous. servants who don't know him often feel like they have to be on their best behavior in tristan's presence.
“ i could tell you about . . . my father, or r- reachwood's current priorities, or . . . s- some of our popular attractions? ”
for all cameron might grumpily profess a hatred of surprises, in truth life would be boring if all went perpetually according to plan. still, the unexpected discovery that one was, in fact, not alone when one believed oneself perfectly alone was always particularly unsettling. it's only in part to mask the sudden bolt of alarm that shot through his system that he leans back against a table opposite, arms crossed before his chest.
temporarily relieved of pressure, his back makes known just how little it approves of his morning's efforts. cameron notes it — and ignores it, as he always does, indulging it only in the rest the distraction the prince's presence momentarily offers it.
❛ now, I notice you left yourself — and your being here — off that list. ❜ amusement laces the words, and he eyes the owl in the young man's arms. or that. ❛ am I going to face consequences for harboring — unknowingly, mind — a royal fugitive? ❜
❛ oh, stop it now, off with you. you know my opinions on your the sharpest tool in the shed speech. ❜ sure, he was right, but he was kind of annoying about it. if he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve so completely -- and wasn't the worst liar in the world -- you'd think it was all a manipulative ploy.
❛ i was just saying that - ❜ pressing her lips together, christine lifts her hands in front of her chest, one finger lifting to stop him, ❛ if we forget about the... s word, the whole thing wasn't, well... so bad. ❜
and she wouldn't mind having something else to dangle over his head.
cameron casts her in an incredulous look. ❛ yes, and if we take out the nearly dying, neither is having an arrow wedge itself against your spine. ❜ in truth, he's not sure that arrowhead was the worst piece of that experience. that living when he should have died — when others did die — wasn't far worse.
he doesn't want to consider such things ( never does ), and thus sticks with the statement. ( it's simpler that way. )
the point stands, regardless. you can't just take the sheep out of the incident. do, and you get something wholly different.
it's far from cameron's best interests to continue to argue, however, and having given her adequate opportunity to change her mind and, hopefully, given himself a layer of defense should things inevitably go badly. again. ❛ but, fine, I'll decide. I'm deciding. it's on your head, though! ❜
on one hand, I'm heavily tempted to drop vaelus from my muse list... on the other hand... looking at my current dash... while I'm sure there are people writing these characters whom I just don't follow ( yet )...
there is such a serious lack of the female c4 characters and I am loath to contribute to that...
