Can I just say that I love how you draw Fjord? Many artists make him handsome in a way that, to me, feels unapproachable, kind of like a super model. But your Fjord is a more common type of handsome? I guess? Like, he looks like a person you could run into on the street, and feel comfortable having a conversation with, which is great since he's been repeatedly shown to be incredibly charming. You just make him look so warm and nice and hugable, and as a bigger guy I'm so glad you draw him large
THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!
This is 100% absolutely what I was aiming for. I’m not a very big fan of this ‘pretty boy’ standard and it didn’t match my mental image at all - not with the hard life he must’ve had as a sailor! I wanted him to be a bit rugged, a little rough around the edges, but friendly and soft looking at the same time!!
I’m glad I managed to hit that exact look. Also highfive from one bigger guy to another!!
christmashippo replied to your post “SEND ME CRITICAL ROLE CAMPAIGN 2 FIC REQUESTS IF YOU LIKE???????”
Just... the Nein spending more time at bath-houses, please?
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(Set within episode 16 when they get back from the research facility, and after Beau and Molly try taking skein and then they all go have a bath after because they feel gross… that trip was skipped over in the actual show so… have some gapfilling fluff?)
Yasha’s braids are filled with the dust and dirt of the underground chamber, the spray off the waterfall turning the fine black ash to a thick, cloying paste that coats her hair. It breaks her comb as soon as she tries to untangle it, back at the Leaky Tap. She’s used to the dust and dirt of the road, but this feels different; sticky, clay-like. Uncomfortable as it dries in her braids. She’ll need to take them out and start all over again.
It is Mollymauk who suggests going back to the bathhouse; he and Beauregard are rather the worse for wear after taking... whatever that was they both took, Yasha isn’t quite sure. At any rate they both look rather sickly, Molly’s violet skin has an unhealthy looking grey caste to it and Beau’s eyes are bloodshot. Then there’s Nott, who looks like she rolled in oil and soot, which is of course exactly what happened.
The hot water will do them all good, they agree. And so, while the rest of them are getting into the warm water, Yasha goes about the long but methodical and calming process of undoing her braids. She sets the ribbons and threads in a pile at her side and works with her comb – Jester mended it for her – from the tips, slowly up to the roots. While she is working, she listens to the echoing sounds of the others around her. It’s quite late, and there aren’t very many people here apart from the seven of them, but they certainly make enough noise. Their voices echo high in the ringing vault.
She hears Nott protesting as Jester and Molly corner her, to wash her hair properly. They chase her around the pool a bit until Molly’s tail catches one of Nott’s ankles under the water when she isn’t expecting it, so she’s caught off balance and slips to her knees.
She comes up yelling and thrashing and spluttering; it’s not at all deep, this pool, even for Nott, but Jester and Molly hastily apologise for scaring her. Though they’re not easing up at all on the soaping, Yasha notices.
Still grumbling, though, Nott eventually relaxes under the treatment of Jester’s hands scrubbing the caked ash from her. She has become so much more trusting so quickly; that’s something Yasha notices every time she returns to them. The difference is noticable even in the short time she’s been away. Caleb, too; he sits on the side of the pool in a borrowed robe, dangling his feet a little way into the water. He’s reading a book, his eyes flicking with preternatural speed across the lines, but he doesn’t look nearly as tense and guarded as he did last time. His hair is even slightly damp, suggesting he allowed himself to be fully under the water at some point.
Yasha’s comb catches and tugs on a knot in her hair, making her wince. Being away for long periods of time, she sees these changes in all of them; probably more than they do, she thinks. It pulls at something, inside her, something that she wants but can’t quite put into words. Growing closer... that’s all she can come up with for now, but she knows it makes a warmth bloom in her chest to see them.
She takes up her comb and keeps teasing out the knot from her hair, her eyes flicking over to Beauregard. Her hair is loose and slicked into a darkened curtain down her back, and she is apparently feeling much better than she was earlier. She seems to have turned to bullying Fjord, throwing back her head and laughing as she tries to douse him with water.
“C’mon Fjord, tell us what’s with you and water!” she’s yelling, splashing Fjord again. “If I do this enough will you, like, turn into uhhhh…. a badass octopus merman or something? Because if so you gotta tell us!”
“Will I…? No? Why...why would I turn into that?”
“Dunno, but you know, worth a try in the absence of any other good information...” she splashes him again, more this time, hard enough to make two elves a little way off look over their way a little disapprovingly. Fjord gives a long-suffering sigh, and Yasha thinks he will dodge the splash of water. But at the last moment he’s moving the other way, retaliating with splash of his own. Beau yells in surprise, crashing backwards into Molly, and the two of them lose their balance and fall into the water together with an almighty splash that half drenches Caleb. He manages to save his book by shielding it with his body, but he’s dripping once more, looking significantly rattled by the experience.
Fjord, though, is laughing as Beau and Molly extricate themselves, and Beau has revenge in her eyes, preparing for a huge splash back at him when the attendant comes over and sternly scolds the three of them. As she walks away, Beau flips her off behind her back and Molly starts laughing, only to be splashed in the face by Nott, who seems to have been deemed clean enough and set free by Jester at last.
“Yasha!” the voice beside her makes her start, whirling around only to see Jester herself appear at her elbow. “Your hair!” Jester looks positively delighted. “It’s so long and pretty! Are you going to braid it again? Can I watch? Oh! Can you do mine, please pleasepleaseplease?”
That is a lot of questions; which one should she answer first? Yet she can’t help but smile – Jester has that effect, somehow. “You want me to braid your hair...like mine?”
“If you can?” Jester tugs at her hair, pushing out her lip in a pout. “Mine’s not as long and I don’t have as many ribbons, but maybe just the side bits and the top? Please?”
Yasha tilts her head. “I mean, I’m not that good at it, not compared to...to some of the people I used to know...but...”
“Don’t listen to her, Jester” says Molly, coming up behind them. He hasn’t bothered putting any clothes on since getting out of the pool, and appears entirely comfortable walking around completely naked. At least his skin has lost its rather sickly look from earlier, and he looks much more cheerful. Yasha is glad of that.
“Yasha used to braid mine sometimes, on boring nights on the road. She’s wonderful at it.”
It’s true; she had used to braid Molly’s hair for him once it has grown out some, and sometimes Toya’s too. It’s a calming sort of activity, repetitive motion that doesn’t really require any words, yet would allow them to sit curled up close together on travelling nights in between towns when there was nothing else to do.
“Oooh!” says Jester, clapping her hands together. “Maybe she could do yours too? If it’s not too much that is… oh, and...” she produces the pink ribbon she has tied around her horn. “Could you use this in mine? It’s very pretty and it suits me so nicely, I think! Molly, do you have ribbons in your coat too that would do with yours? We’re going to be so so so pretty!” she looks back to Yasha, a little sheepish. “Uh, no pressure of course, you know...”
Yasha hesitates for a moment, her eyes flicking over to Molly’s for a moment. He gives a little encouraging smile, as though to say, up to you.
Yasha smiles too, letting out her breath. “If you both want, I can do it?”
“Yay! Braid party with Yasha!” Jester squishes her cheeks and yells in excitement, a sound that once again echoes into the vaulted ceiling, making the sour-faced elves a little way off look over at them again. Yasha sees Beau flip them off again, to their faces this time. They march off, outraged, and even Caleb starts laughing.
And that is how, some time later with her own braids fresh and done, Yasha finds herself braiding first Jester’s hair and then Molly’s, while the others look on with some interest. Nott seems to be staring the most fixedly; maybe it’s the shiny coloured ribbons that Molly seemed to have inexplicably unearthed from one of the pockets of his coat.
Even Caleb has come to watch, sitting on a bench a little way off and observing with interest. He’s pretending to read, but his eyes aren’t moving now, peering over the top of his book.
After Yasha’s done with his hair, Molly thanks her, preening in a mirror and gushing with pride about how good it looks. After that she means to get up and go, but suddenly there is a shy tug at her elbow. She looks down, and there’s Nott, one small hand open to reveal palm full of small bright glass beads of all different colours.
“Um...” Nott looks a little shy, her voice faltering. “Could you… could you do mine, with these? And...and help me to do Caleb’s too?” Nott drops her voice, smiling a little conspiratorially. “He says he doesn’t care either way when I braid his hair, but I know he secretly likes it.”
Yasha looks up; she hadn’t thought Caleb would be interested, but he is watching them still, a strange expression on his face; half resignation and half the softest affection that she has seen on anyone in a while, as he watches Nott.
“Uh… yes, I could do that?” she says.
Nott’s eyes shine, as Jester squeals and drags Caleb gleefully over by the sleeve, trapping him between her and Molly. And so, Yasha sits down cross-legged behind first Nott, then Caleb, and braids the beads into their hair. The beads are cheap and cracked, and Nott probably stole them, and both of the two have hair that’s not really long enough to do anything very elaborate. But Yasha does what she can, and by the end Nott is grinning happily and even Caleb is smiling a little, just at the corners of his mouth.
By this time, Beau has come over to watch, and Fjord comes up behind her. As he stands up, Beau elbows Caleb hard in the side. “Hey, can’t believe I’m saying this, dirt man, but that looks pretty nice” she says, deadpan. “Yasha, you really are good at that.”
Fjord elbows her in the side, now. “Remember when we went through compliments?”
Beau rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah yeah. Point is...” she throws a spare towel over her shoulder casually and turns back to Yasha, twirling a strand of her own hair idly between her fingers. “…You still got any more hair braiding left in you for the day?”
Yasha blinks. “Um. Yes…? I’m surprised you’re interested though, it doesn’t seem like... your kind of thing, I guess?”
Beau looks her up and down slowly, a surprisingly gentle smile appearing on her lips. “Oh...it is, actually. It totally is my thing.”
Fjord sighs deeply. “Well, hurry up then. We’re going to get kicked out of this place soon, it’s getting late.”
“What about you, Fjord?” asks Molly, as Beau hands Yasha some of the blue bands she usually wears in her hair, sitting down in front of her so that Yasha can begin.
Fjord raises an eyebrow. “What about me?”
Molly touches his own braided hair proudly. “Are you really going to be the only one of the Mighty Nein without matching hair?”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know, my hair’s pretty short… and, you know, I wouldn’t want to… to trouble Yasha...”
Jester, however, is not having it; as soon as the suggestion is made, she’s grabbing Fjord’s hand in both of hers, eyes starry. “Nooooo Fjord! You’ve got to! It would still work on you, on the top at least… Yasha’s good like that! And...oh! You can use some of that weird red stuff you have hanging off your belt for no reason!”
“Excuse me, that’s there because - ”
Jester is in full flow now though, and Fjord can’t get a word in edgewise. “Oh, you’ll look so handsome!” She melts against his side a little, and Molly snorts and does nothing else as Fjord shoots him a help me look. “Besides, we should all match!” Jester grins happily. “And Yasha, you don’t mind, do you?”
She looks up at them all, all grouped around her in the warm bathhouse; despite their protests, they are all smiling, and Beau is leaning back against her, and Yasha can feel the warmth of her skin and she can smell the soft perfume of the soap they all used in the air. She realises, suddenly, that she feels an overwhelming sense of calm. The storm inside her has gone quiet, here and right now at least. She’s used to feeling the need to run, sometimes; or at least to be able to see a way out, if she needs one. Today, she’s barely thought about that all day. She’s been too much in the now, and this particular now is a very good one.
She could get used to this, she thinks.
“No...” Yasha says, smiling up at them all, grouped around her. “No, I don’t mind, at all.”
christmashippo replied to your chat: Rosa: Have you talked to Adalgrim yet? Hildigrim:...
I would also like to think that Hildigrim is bi as fuck
I’ve so far been unable to decide whether or not Hildigrim is bi as fuck or straight and very openminded, but bi as fuck is actually a lot more in keeping with his behaviour
also imagine that awkward revelation when pretty much no one at the inn in Tuckborough can’t make fucking eyecontact with him without blushing like holy hell
christmashippo replied to your chat: Rosa: Have you talked to Adalgrim yet? Hildigrim:...
you don’t have to be a lass to ride the town pony ;)
The Town Pony accepts most riders, and should probably consider the virtues of sleeping alone
Belladonna: I'm so glad to see you! We never have the chance to come to Whitwell, I feel like I don't see you enough!
Rosa: Oh, well, Whitwell is still where I feel most comfortable...
Belladonna: ... You seem a little... tense. Has something happened?
Rosa: I don't know why I allowed myself to be convinced, but we went with Isengrim and Isumbras to the inn yesterday evening...
Belladonna: ... You... What?
Rosa: The way people STARED when Hildigrim came through the door... And then the way people kept approaching to "say hello", as they claimed, and how they kept touching his arm or shoulder...
Belladonna: ... So, ah... Did Hildigrim ever tell you just exactly to what degree he was the town pony?
Rosa: Apparently he neglected to tell the full truth.
Belladonna: So he-
Rosa: The full truth apparently being that he'd bedded every damn adult hobbit in Tuckborough at least twice back then.
Belladonna: ... I don't think I've ever heard you say "damn" before.
Rosa: It's still not as strong as the word I should like to use, but I think I'd rather save that for when I've had a few more glasses of wine.
