#roadthrived

[mamaterasu]

           ❛  the flowers never lie,  dearest wanderer.   but you know this to be true. ❜  

🍃       /       @roadthrived  .

[circusglass]

(ʃƪ ˘ ³˘) uwu

kissu, kissu, ( closed ): @roadthrived​

“You know,” he begins, and it’s only two words but they’re already loaded with teasing. Molly stretches a foot out to dangle in the heated pool. Steam lifts off the water in whorls, a soft, unplaceable scent—pleasant and unobtrusive—lingering around his ears. “It wouldn’t kill you to take a brush to this every once in a while.”

Molly is careful with Yasha’s thicket of dark hair, touching it reverently while he picks a comb through portions he’s meticulously sectioned out. There is such an aching gentleness to his hovering hands that any observer would assume the woman was as tender headed as a newborn. Truth was Molly had dropped a silver for this comb earlier because he was not about to let the teeth snap off in her hair again.

He doesn’t need a comb for himself. Not really, not yet. He’s still growing out his own hair, only has soft eddies of it hinting at curls. He gingerly pushes one of Yasha’s locs aside, begins undoing a hidden braid to brush out the wavy strands. He’ll plait them back in later—Toya’s been showing him how.

Molly sticks the blunt side of the comb in his mouth and feels for her hairline, follows it all the way around her head until he’s gathered her hair up to pull over her shoulders. The white tips wave damp at the bottom, and he smiles, pleased with his work. He can card his fingers through most of it now.

“There we are,” he hums setting the comb aside, fingers tickling at the hair at the back of her neck. Molly groans as he unfolds his leg, splashing it into the water. He follows soon after, slipping in to huddle his shoulders beneath the heated surface. “I’d wash it for you but I’d have to charge you a gold for emotional labor alone. You have enough hair for two heads, darling.”

He grins impishly and bumps his nose to Yasha’s shoulder, dropping a quick kiss against her arm. Then he’s slinking down into the water to make bubbles with his lips, “I expect recompense once my hair is down to my ass.”

[criticaltas]

@roadthrived

“Hey... hey Yash. Yasha.” Beau prodded the sleeping woman with her toe. “Get up, we’re on watch.” she whispered, trying not to wake anyone. Caleb had just woken her, and he was putting a blanket over the already-snoring Nott as their watch ended. 

[thereluctantpaladin]

@roadthrived

yasha keeps her hand over her side, attempting to hide the wound beneath – she doesn’t want to talk about the escape. it was too close for comfort, and she did not manage to grab jester or fjord; she prays they are together. there isn’t much yasha can do now, they’d told her to run, and she isn’t stupid enough to ignore fjord’s lead. he said to go – so shewent.

 even sitting next to kerrick, yasha cannot forget the hunger in lorenzo’s eyes as he struck her, carving into her side and causing her to stumble back. not down – yasha refused to be any more beneath lorenzo than she already was. she kneels to no one, and only to the stormlord. yasha also doesn’t want to talk about her capture and imprisonment; though she’s well aware kerrick should know.

     ‘ – i’m fine.  ‘

Kerrek didn’t say anything. Not yet anyway. This isn’t his first rodeo. He stands and puts some water on the fire to boil, then gathers up some clean cloths, before kneeling beside his daughter Yasha. “I can see that,” he mused, but gestured for her to move “-come on. Let me see it.. I cannot fix what I cannot see,” he added, already mentally preparing his divine powers, to see the worst of it.

[lostandfoundfortune]

roadthrived replied to your post: “Please don’t pour one out at my funeral. That would be a waste of...”:

' it's for me, molly. since SOMEONE can't stay alive. '

     “Maybe I have nine lives. Like a cat. Always did have a... decent balance.“ Let’s forget that one time. “Maybe I can’t die. Wouldn’t that be something?”

[polyphoniie-a]

{ @roadthrived | cont’d }

   ‘ i’m fine, beau. ‘

     maybe she is. maybe she isn’t. she can’t quite tell up from down right now. or why she’s so flustered. yasha’s leaning heavily against the wall, trying to catch her breath. beauregard isn’t making it easy.

      ‘ yeah.  i’m… fine. i’ll be fine. ‘

“Hey, you sure?”

Beau frowns, very concerned. Yasha looks dazed--more than dazed, even. That fucking spider was a fucking trip, and Beau saw Yasha take that hit, really hard.

“You really don’t look good. I mean...you always look good...I mean...should I just go get Jester?”

[imaghost713]

hi!! would it be alright if i used this ( iccara(.)tumblr(.)com/post/181686032399/rain-will-come ) art for a graphic? thanks so much!

Absolutely, feel free to your heart's content. Happy you could use it!

[flameclaimed]

' caleb. i just. want you to know that, uh, you did great. in the fight. and uh. if you need me to -- help, anytime, i'm here for you. ' she's trying to be a friend. shaky thumbs up.

lia is teSTING ME @roadthrived​

   “Oh, eh... you... too? You did very well. hitting that creature until it died. If you didn’t, I probably also would have died. So... thanks for making sure I am not dead.”