#myownmvse

[themightyzwei]

Muse braiding Calebs hair and every now and then tuning her harp and humming the note - @myownmvse​

“Muse...” Caleb heard the notes on the harp before even realizing her hands were gone from his hair. Not to be rude, but... it was a fascinating book. He heard the gentle tone of her humming, turning slightly to look at her fully.

The strands of hair, partly braided together brushed against his bare shoulders. She wanted to braid his wet hair and he said fine. There wasn’t any harm in it... and though it had taken some time, he had come to relish her touch. They were growing comfortable with one another. Intimate in their own ways, though not perhaps how others would perceive it.

“You’re not leaving me to look ridiculous, are you?”

[themightyzwei]

[ @myownmvse​ sent for Caleb ]

“what the hell happened to you?”

“Don’t presume to know me, bard...”

Caleb wasn’t exactly feeling like he owed her an apology for snapping at her earlier. His darker, more sullen side was letting itself out. And if she were anyone in his immediate group... he might have not been so outwardly rude to her. Maybe she’d go away in a huff, find somewhere else to travel with... But the truth was, she’d gotten to him. Maybe bards just had a way of doing that, making you want to share stories. Even your most secret, most painful. Even ones you swore to yourself you’d never tell. Because then people would ask questions just like this.

He hadn’t actually told her much of anything. He’d kept things vague. But now she could infer that, at a stretch, his parents were dead and, rather more obvious, the guilt he held over that, even if he hadn’t gone into much more detail. But it was far more than he wanted her to know.

[themightyzwei]

[ @myownmvse​ sent for Caleb ]

 ❛   i don’t bite, you know… unless it’s called for.   ❜

“That sounds... barbaric. For a bard.”

Tieflings were rather unpredictable in nature, he found. So biting, well, Caleb supposed one had to do what one had to do... particularly in her line of work. No doubt with how beautiful she was (she rather reminded Caleb of Jester’s mother, but with Jester’s more exuberant nature) Muse the Bard had to fend off many admirers who wanted to do more than just... admire.

[bookofvesper]

@myownmvse sent...

"We need to go somewhere where we can get very, very drunk."

Vesper blushed hotly, smirking at Muse's boldness and frankness. She liked them for those very reasons, despite Vesper's rather tame sense of fun or relaxing. Muse pushed her in ways she liked, ways that felt almost familiar to her...

Vesper dried her hands, the last of her share of dishes to wash finished. Muse was back here in the kitchens in offer to 'help' finish up the very last of Vesper's shift at the Inn. As long as she was awake for her shift tomorrow, and Ulf knew who she was with, he didn't much mind what she got up to. But the half orc worried about her.

"As long as it isn't here..." Vesper reminded Muse. Another rule of Ulf's and it made logical sense. She could drink here but if Muse was as wild as Vesper thought, getting drunk at her place of work was not something she wanted.

[themightyzwei]

@myownmvse​ sent...

“Had a dream. You and me in the war of the end times.”

“Oh which war is that?”

Caleb offered with a small smile and a short scoff. He shook his head. There were enough ‘preventing the destruction of the world’ adventures he had told Muse. Some stories from books. Some from personal experience.

“Were we winning, at least?”

[themightyzwei]

Send 💪 for my muse’s reaction to yours picking them up and throwing them over their shoulder. [ x ]

@myownmvse​

“You are... extremely strong, Muse...”

Caleb grunted a bit, not fighting the lift but not exactly happy with it either. True, he couldn’t walk, but the placement over their shoulder wasn’t ideal. He spoke in a slight rasp, hard to catch his breath with her shoulder in his stomach.

“Just a little healing I think... might do the trick?”

[buckygetyourgun]

@myownmvse

Bob the Bodega Guy isn't his usual self when Bucky stops by to pick up lunch on a sunny Thursday afternoon. He rings up Bucky's purchase with a positively dejected air, barely making eye contact, and there's no music playing from the portable speaker behind the counter.

"You okay, man?" he asks, because they've talked enough by now that he'd feel weird if he just let it go.

Bob sighs.

"It's cool. I just, uh, gotta miss a show tomorrow because my dad's eloping with his girlfriend and they want me to be there." He sighs again."Can't say no to family, right?"

"Congratulations to your dad, I guess?" Bucky replies. "Too bad about the show, though."

Bob stays silent, and Bucky starts to pick up his bag, but suddenly, Bob perks up again.

"Hey, do you want my ticket?" he asks. "Show's tomorrow at 7 at that little club I told you about above that art gallery."

"Uh, sure. How much do I owe you for it?"

Bob takes the ticket out of his wallet and hands it to Bucky, shaking his head.

"Just take it. Think of it as thanks for saving--"

"Jesus Christ, Bob, don't say it again."

"Sure thing, man. But--"

Bucky hurries out of the shop before Bob can finish his sentence.