#wiidogasted

[trentikithon]

@wiidogasted

“Mr. Ermendrud.” Removing his gloves, Trent stalked into the tiny room, not much bigger than a cell, where he’d been keeping what was once his prized pupil ever since he had proven that he was not strong enough. “Feebleminded will be wearing off again today. Perhaps you would like a break.” he cupped Bren’s chin in his hand and snapped in front of his face. 

“Welcome back.” 

[polyphoniie-archived]

"Words only get through if they're sharp." - to beau

{ A Meme! | Selectively Accepting | @wiidogasted }

“...what if I punch them instead...?”

[polyphoniie-a]

@wiidogasted

CALLED OUT!

INSULTED!

SLANDERED!

[bowlgate]

"Calianna--" The letter has many scribbles, the starts of sentences but the wording was off. "We have travelled to the Menagerie Coast, I will send a letter when we return to the Empire. Zadash has become a meeting place, particularly the Leaky Tap. Wishing you well on your travels, Mister Caleb."

@wiidogasted​, take this whole dumb thing, doot. take it!!

When Grim raps his knuckles against the doorframe and invites himself into Cali’s room, he’s stroking his coarse black beard in a way she’s come to understand means he’s preparing an apology. She coils her heavy black tail against her ankles and waits, the pupil of her draconic eye widening.

“You got some mail,” he begins gruffly, tugging on the edges of his beard. His cheeks are ruddier than usual, she notes, as he crosses the floor to her. He flaps an envelope her way and pride is what lets him maintain eye contact; it’s already torn open. “You never get mail. I got. Uh, suspicious. …Worried is a more proper word.”

A spark of anger shoots through her like a festival firework at the sight of it. It hisses through her mind, a soft mine, a terrible, how dare you, but she knows he hadn’t meant anything by it. Cali knows that—after breaking the bowl, after everything Grim and Magda do for her, the anger is ugly. It’s not really hers. She stamps it out with a shaky inhale and pinches the parchment between half-elven fingers, then catches Grim’s warm hand to squeeze, smile bright.

“It’s okay. I understand,” she says gently, because she does. The words are difficult to say, but she knows if she speaks them into existence they’ll become true. Just like magic.

“Didn’t read it,” he lies.

“It’s okay if you did.” She unfolds the letter against her lap.

“…Ah, well. I did read it. It’s from that Mister Caleb fellow.”

Cali’s eyes light up. She shakes the letter out and scans the messy scrawl of lines. It doesn’t look like much, is sparse with information, but it’s a real, actual update from Mister Caleb, and that makes her feel like a real, actual member of The Mighty Nein. The edge of her bed depresses as Grim clambers up beside her. She lowers the parchment so he can read along, though he’s already seen it.

“Zadash is where we heard tell,” he points out. “A lot of powerful spell-casters out that way.”

“Mister Caleb’s one of them,” she bursts with a delighted, fanged grin.

Grim only hmms dubiously in response. “He a nervous one?” A thick finger stabs the page. “Way he scribbles. Seems it.”

Cali shakes her head, “No, I don’t think so. But he does have a um, Zemnian? Accent, so maybe that’s it! He’s so good with magic, Grim. I think I can really learn something from him! Should I send a letter back? Do you think I can leave a letter with—” she glances quickly down at the page, eyes ticking over it. “—The Leaky Tap?”

“I don’t see why not. I’ll see with Maggie about inns in Zadash, see if that’s one we know. Hey!” Calianna is already on her feet, crossing the small space of her room to dig out sheaf of paper and a quill from her drawers. She squats to reach underneath her bed for her inks, tail swishing in wide, dangerous arcs. “Let me help you. You’re no better than a canary when you write. Just a quick update, no more than a few lines, alright?”

Mister Caleb!

It’s so good to hear from you! That must mean everything is going well!! I’ve gotten some news about—

“Should I mention the Caustic Heart, Grim?”

“Best you leave it vague, girl.”

—good antiquing spots north of Zadash so I’ll be traveling up there as soon as I can! You know how I love antiquing. I heard it’s a really, really big city, too, so I’m excited!! I hope I get there when you guys return!!! Wouldn’t that be nice??? I’d love to see everyone again!

If you somehow get this before I get there, or maybe after you’ve returned, give everyone a hug for me! Only if you want to. I think you’re very particular about space, aren’t you, Mister Caleb? Well, maybe only tell everyone I’m sending hugs (I’m sending you a hug too!!!). Be safe!!

All my best,

Calianna

[circusglass]

The night carried on with jokes and drink, with Caleb consuming his fair share of ale and more. He slumped lazily against the tiefling, cheeks a visible shade of red, and he smiled up at him. "You're quite dashing from this angle," A hand rises to push Mollymauk's hair to the side so Caleb could see him better. "But I might just be unable to focus on you. Everything is spinning a bit."

touch meme: @wiidogasted​

Caleb tips towards him and Molly instinctively lifts an arm, opening himself up to receive his weight against his side. The way the tavern’s lights play across his hair and ruddy cheeks reminds Molly of polished copper, but—well, it could also be contact drunkenness making him leapfrog into quasi-poetic gibberish. Molly knows it’s the alcohol that makes Caleb tilt his face up the way he does, it’s what’s making his smile feather-soft and deeply inviting. And it’s the alcohol, Molly is certain, that makes him want to close the gap. But he knows better.

Knowing better doesn’t stop Caleb’s words from pulsing through him like a northern starburst, startling enough to cause his gaze to sharpen. The world always glitters at the edges when he’s caught between tipsy and properly sauced. The way Molly tips his head to chase the brush of Caleb’s fingers with the softest exhalations is reminiscent of Frumpkin, but it’s subtle enough to go unnoticed. Maybe. Caleb is very drunk. Molly is maybe a little less drunk. He’ll know for certain when he stands.

He huffs, teeth a soft gleam of white points. “Incredible. That was almost a compliment, which means it’s time to cut you off.”

Molly playfully scratches his claws through Caleb’s hair, returns the gesture twofold like he’s not allowed to keep it. Because he isn’t. “Up you get, Mister Caleb. Let’s get you to bed.”

[starsoared]

   @eodwuif + @wiidogasted

 ‘ i swear, if you two started without me -- ‘ 

she practically slams the door open, fed up as she is already with being held back late by trent -- it’s a beautiful sight to see, both eodwulf and caleb already halfway into each other’s pants. but astrid wants in too, as always. it’s a fault she can’t deny, yet essential to her personality. she drops her books on the desk, closing the wooden door and setting the lock. 

  ‘ what are we doing tonight? caleb-in-the-middle? ‘ 

[roadthrived]

sc.  @wiidogasted

     ‘  caleb.  ‘  her hands are shaking, though it is hidden under the cover of the night. she has not seen him -- any of them -- in weeks. ‘  i don’t know -- what to do.  ‘ 

[eodwuif]

"I dream of the day your eyes are ripped open."

Eodwulf felt his chest bloom with anger, stepping closer up to the other man. They were chest to chest, and it made the other so conscious of how much they had grown. It was shocking, the realization that they weren’t just kids anymore. And, despite this, the anger of when the other man had abandoned him and Astrid still boiling in his chest. The memory was just as fresh as it had been the day he left. A hand grabbed at the other man’s tattered coat, eyes narrowing. 

“You have no business saying something like that to me, after all we’ve done. You left us, Caleb. You left us to Trent, and now you have the audacity to judge me for trying to survive?”