[ He carefully slides over the tail in a stiffer way than a simple flick, giving it a somewhat frustrated look. It didn't look as bad as it felt, and it looked pretty bad. Hopefully nothing was actually broken or crushed.
You're welcome for the knowledge of a tiefling weakness, Fjord.
The apology is a bit unexpected and Molly looks up at the other man, those pools of red slightly reflecting the candlelight. ]
...it's fine.
[ Molly finally says, which sounds more like defeat than accepting an apology. ]
It doesn't look fine. [ From how stiffly Molly wields it, he suspects he may have at least fractured something. Fuck. ] I can heal it, don't worry. I'll burn my last fifth-level from yesterday, I haven't slept yet anyway.
[ It's either a fifth-level pact slot or a first-level Paladin one, which he doesn't think will really do the job. He supports Molly's tail on his palm and gently covers it with another. ]
Hold still.
[ Melora's healing light brightens between his hands as a jade-green, the same shade as the peacock on Molly's rescued old coat; in the dark kitchen the spell pulses, Cure Wounds doing what it says on the tin and mending the trampled tail. Hair a mess from bed and in crinkled pyjamas, Fjord's sharp gaze looks to be the only awake part of him, focused entirely on making the pain go away.
[ Fifth-level spell. That just sounds insane to Molly, especially for a healing thing... but he's not going to complain when that green warmth spreads into his tail. Something makes a 'pop' sound in it that should have hurt, but the healing is so swift that the pain doesn't have time to register. Definitely a fracture or a seperation of the tiny tailbones.
There's relief as the tension fades and he can slip the appendage out of those gentle hands and curl it a bit without pain. ]
Fancy. You've really become something special, Fjord.
[ Oh look, there's a small smile. It's easier to not be an asshole chomping for an unnecessary fight when you're not in pain. At least at the moment. ]
[ He's just relieved to have managed it without fucking up and horrendously fusing the bones in some nightmare scenario, he's the fallback option for healing when both Clerics are busy with more important business. It's not often he gets to do that sort of thing.
He gives Molly a shake of his head to dismiss the compliment, awkward about the mild surprise. ]
What's really special are the sausages hidden in the cooling cabinet, they're what I came downstairs for. Join me for a raid?
[ That is a horrifying mental image and it's a blessing that did not happen because wow.
Molly's a little bit happier to see Fjord being somewhat awkward still, it's really endearing. Especially now that he's such a powerful person both in abilities and the new looks. (That beard is definitely hot.)
He slides off the countertop when the half-orc mentions the thing he came to the kitchen in the first place for, grinning. Yeah, he remembers those and it makes his empty stomach remind him that it hasn't had anything since dinner. ]
[ He'll never get over being called a holy man, it's like getting a new haircut and forgetting until someone points it out. Eldritch Blast fingerguns find Molly and he winks on his way to begin said raid. ]
I'm a bad boy doing good things.
[ Finding a jar of onion sauce to dip his apple-stuffed sausages in (he's gross), he slides the plate between them on the counter and slumps there munching away, inhaling the first in three bites. Onto his second, he speaks up. ]
Really though, why were you sitting on the floor?
[ Just because Fjord doesn't harass people to death over their secrets doesn't mean he isn't still intrigued, along with being mildly worried about Molly. He takes care to be casual about asking, not wanting to seem overbearing when what Molly really sought out down here was space. ]
[ He snorts at the 'bad boy' prt, but he's a willing accomplice to the sausage feast... although he draws the line at fucking onion sauce, what the fuck Fjord? The mix of pork and apple is enough for him.
Molly is lulled into a false sense of security as he's eating, but of course the half-orc has to break that by his question. He snaps off another piece of sausage with his teeth, finishing that before answering. ]
I was just talking to my goddess. [ He lies, smoothly. ] I had the best view in here, and I might have nodded of a bit until you clomped inside.
[ It's not the Nein's problem that he's messed up, and they're treating him like he's an expensive vase about to fall off the pedestal already. He's not one of them any more; he can't fool himself into believing that.
They grew so far apart from him that he feels like a stranger. ]
[ The thing is, Fjord is suspicious but it's a good excuse and weirder deities have been contacted in less logical ways. Moonlight and sunlight look so similar here, it's probably the best place to have a talk with the Moonweaver. Then again, Molly's capacity for bullshit is endless and Fjord has never known him to be spiritual before.
[ That's a distraction if ever he heard one but it's not like he can press Molly for information on why he's being a depressed, touchy bastard. ]
She's lovely, yes. Cares about the oceans and forests and ... shit. [ Look, okay. He's no Caduceus. ] What I mean is, she cares about her followers, I know that for a fact.
Caduceus? He's amazing, absolutely. Slightly creepy but I don't think that's his fault, he was left alone for a long time. Do you like him? I know he likes you.
[ They can all pretend Caduceus didn't make innocently harrowing comments about tasting the flowers on Molly's former grave, should they travel that way again. That had really been a ... conversation. Thank fuck Veth had cracked up to lighten the atmosphere.
He bites through a thick sausage with his tusk, happily shredding it in two to nibble on. ]
He and Jessie got me out of that grave, how can I not like him?
[ Okay, okay, the man was really tall and rather creepy at times, but he also helped keeping this group together. Helping people with their issues and just... being really kind. Caduceus was exactly what the Nein needed. ]
He likes me? That's a relief, at least. He's a little hard to read at times, but a nice fellow nonetheless.
[ A fellow that wanted to make tea out of his grave. Molly was so into that idea, it was ridiculous yet fitting for a man named Tealeaf. ]
He's really found his niche with us, for a while he was shaken up by travelling in the real world, almost drowned a few times. Did anyone tell you he died? Nott accidentally murdered him with an explosive arrow, that fight was a mess. [ Monchmonchmonch. Trauma is more easily discussed over food. ] Feels like more of us are dying these days than aren't.
[ He cringes at that, lowering his sausage and looking over at Fjord with a bit of a pained look on his face. ]
Him, Nott and you. Don't fucking do that, any of you. It's not what it's cracked up to be, so I don't want to hear about anyone dying again.
[ Yeah, he knows. Nott... Veth asked if he saw them when they were dead and that's a terrifying thought. His friends, dead... it didn't matter if they got up again within minutes rather than a year later. It was still a lot. ]
You're too important to just go dying. Heroes of two empires. Heroes do not die.
I can't exactly do that. I'm not part of any of it.
[ He takes the offered sausage and tries it with that blasted onion sauce on it. It's... better than he thought, honestly. The Exandrian version of dipping your fries in your shake.
Then Molly realizes what he said and backtracks a bit. ]
[ His hackles are up again, that clipped voice back rather than the easy, charming and shit-talking sway that's remembered. Molly sighs, pushing back his hair once more while his tail makes little annoyed whips behind him. ]
I was with you for just over a month, Fjord. You guys have been together for over a year. You're so far ahead of me that I can't even see the back of your heads any more.
[ He stubbornly looks away. Molly hates the truth, it's bitter and painful. It opens up like a wound, bleeding problems that do not need to be heard, that doesn't help the situation. It just hurts, not just him but everyone else as well.
The truth just leaves pain, and he will always prefer the lie. Pretending everything is like it used to be for the sake of not only them but for himself as well.
Yet here he is, the truth slipping from his lips. ]
You've all changed so much that I barely even know you anymore. I'm grateful to be alive, but I don't know why you even came for me. You had moved on so far from that ragtag group of assholes, you didn't need me.
If I helped seal you all together as a group, that was worth it. Now I just feel like a ghost, and afterthought of guilt. Some of you changed because of my death and it now feels... cheapened, now.
[ He can't believe what he's hearing, which is highly ironic since it's everything he expected. It makes him furious, heat burning in his cheeks as he turns to face him with none of the tact some of the others might employ, jabbing a finger at Molly's chest where he was stabbed. It's an effort not to raise his voice. ]
You stupid, selfish bastard. None of that matters! You don't have any idea, do you? No idea how much it means to everyone that you're back, you're sitting around in the dark moping about not fitting in instead of talking to us. It doesn't mean a damn thing if we've changed, we're still your friends, or did dying scramble your head that much?
[ Molly hisses back as he's jabbed in the rather gruesome scar courtesy of aftermath of his death, pulling his now less low-cut shirt more closed. ]
You barely even knew me! I can understand Yasha, but the rest of you? Fuck. You've all been together for essentially half of my lifespan and you think I'll just hop in like I've never left?
[ It's hot, vitriolic acid, these words, and it's not making any of it better. ]
What am I supposed to talk to you about? How is that even helpful? Saying that I feel like I don't fit in any more is just going to create more guilt and people denying it. The fucking truth is you're all strangers to me now. New names, new bodies, new voices, new secrets. I don't know any of you and the only reason I'm back is because you somehow need to get it off your conscience.
[ Pause. ]
...and I can't live up to this saint some of you have built me up to be, taking my words as some kind of gospel. I'm an asshole.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
You're welcome for the knowledge of a tiefling weakness, Fjord.
The apology is a bit unexpected and Molly looks up at the other man, those pools of red slightly reflecting the candlelight. ]
...it's fine.
[ Molly finally says, which sounds more like defeat than accepting an apology. ]
no subject
[ It's either a fifth-level pact slot or a first-level Paladin one, which he doesn't think will really do the job. He supports Molly's tail on his palm and gently covers it with another. ]
Hold still.
[ Melora's healing light brightens between his hands as a jade-green, the same shade as the peacock on Molly's rescued old coat; in the dark kitchen the spell pulses, Cure Wounds doing what it says on the tin and mending the trampled tail. Hair a mess from bed and in crinkled pyjamas, Fjord's sharp gaze looks to be the only awake part of him, focused entirely on making the pain go away.
no subject
There's relief as the tension fades and he can slip the appendage out of those gentle hands and curl it a bit without pain. ]
Fancy. You've really become something special, Fjord.
[ Oh look, there's a small smile. It's easier to not be an asshole chomping for an unnecessary fight when you're not in pain. At least at the moment. ]
no subject
He gives Molly a shake of his head to dismiss the compliment, awkward about the mild surprise. ]
What's really special are the sausages hidden in the cooling cabinet, they're what I came downstairs for. Join me for a raid?
no subject
Molly's a little bit happier to see Fjord being somewhat awkward still, it's really endearing. Especially now that he's such a powerful person both in abilities and the new looks. (That beard is definitely hot.)
He slides off the countertop when the half-orc mentions the thing he came to the kitchen in the first place for, grinning. Yeah, he remembers those and it makes his empty stomach remind him that it hasn't had anything since dinner. ]
The holy man is stealing? Oh, I'm into this.
no subject
I'm a bad boy doing good things.
[ Finding a jar of onion sauce to dip his apple-stuffed sausages in (he's gross), he slides the plate between them on the counter and slumps there munching away, inhaling the first in three bites. Onto his second, he speaks up. ]
Really though, why were you sitting on the floor?
[ Just because Fjord doesn't harass people to death over their secrets doesn't mean he isn't still intrigued, along with being mildly worried about Molly. He takes care to be casual about asking, not wanting to seem overbearing when what Molly really sought out down here was space. ]
no subject
Molly is lulled into a false sense of security as he's eating, but of course the half-orc has to break that by his question. He snaps off another piece of sausage with his teeth, finishing that before answering. ]
I was just talking to my goddess. [ He lies, smoothly. ] I had the best view in here, and I might have nodded of a bit until you clomped inside.
[ It's not the Nein's problem that he's messed up, and they're treating him like he's an expensive vase about to fall off the pedestal already. He's not one of them any more; he can't fool himself into believing that.
They grew so far apart from him that he feels like a stranger. ]
no subject
Maybe it's something to do with, well. Dying. ]
Oh? And did she have anything interesting to say?
no subject
[ Bless Fjord for not calling him on his lie. He takes another bite of his sausage and gestures a bit with it. ]
Tell me about your Lady! Talk about an upgrade, hmm?
[ From a freaky entity to lovely nature mom. That seems like a nice, safe discussion that isn't about him. ]
no subject
She's lovely, yes. Cares about the oceans and forests and ... shit. [ Look, okay. He's no Caduceus. ] What I mean is, she cares about her followers, I know that for a fact.
no subject
Sounds nice. I'm glad you upgraded so someone who doesn't make you spit up things at night.
[ It was a strange and somewhat worrying thing to wake up to now and then, after all. ]
It seems you and Mr. awesome hair up there have a lot in common now. He's nice.
no subject
[ They can all pretend Caduceus didn't make innocently harrowing comments about tasting the flowers on Molly's former grave, should they travel that way again. That had really been a ... conversation. Thank fuck Veth had cracked up to lighten the atmosphere.
He bites through a thick sausage with his tusk, happily shredding it in two to nibble on. ]
no subject
[ Okay, okay, the man was really tall and rather creepy at times, but he also helped keeping this group together. Helping people with their issues and just... being really kind. Caduceus was exactly what the Nein needed. ]
He likes me? That's a relief, at least. He's a little hard to read at times, but a nice fellow nonetheless.
[ A fellow that wanted to make tea out of his grave. Molly was so into that idea, it was ridiculous yet fitting for a man named Tealeaf. ]
I'm glad he was here when I couldn't.
no subject
He's really found his niche with us, for a while he was shaken up by travelling in the real world, almost drowned a few times. Did anyone tell you he died? Nott accidentally murdered him with an explosive arrow, that fight was a mess. [ Monchmonchmonch. Trauma is more easily discussed over food. ] Feels like more of us are dying these days than aren't.
no subject
Him, Nott and you. Don't fucking do that, any of you. It's not what it's cracked up to be, so I don't want to hear about anyone dying again.
[ Yeah, he knows. Nott... Veth asked if he saw them when they were dead and that's a terrifying thought. His friends, dead... it didn't matter if they got up again within minutes rather than a year later. It was still a lot. ]
You're too important to just go dying. Heroes of two empires. Heroes do not die.
no subject
[ Here, want half a sausage? He dipped it just for you, bud. ]
no subject
[ He takes the offered sausage and tries it with that blasted onion sauce on it. It's... better than he thought, honestly. The Exandrian version of dipping your fries in your shake.
Then Molly realizes what he said and backtracks a bit. ]
I'll remember to not get stabbed again.
no subject
[ Also, Molly is a hero, Fjord is just. Keeping that opinion to himself. ]
no subject
[ Wait, shit. Backtrack! ]
Nevermind, I'm just being dramatic at shit'o'clock in the morning.
no subject
[ The sausages finally lose his focus, staring at Molly at his side. ]
Is that why you're sitting in here alone too, you're not part of the rest of the house? It's just you and your Moonweaver?
no subject
[ His hackles are up again, that clipped voice back rather than the easy, charming and shit-talking sway that's remembered. Molly sighs, pushing back his hair once more while his tail makes little annoyed whips behind him. ]
I'm still getting used to this.
no subject
You belong with us, that's not up for debate. However long it takes you to ... readjust, we'll be here.
no subject
[ He stubbornly looks away. Molly hates the truth, it's bitter and painful. It opens up like a wound, bleeding problems that do not need to be heard, that doesn't help the situation. It just hurts, not just him but everyone else as well.
The truth just leaves pain, and he will always prefer the lie. Pretending everything is like it used to be for the sake of not only them but for himself as well.
Yet here he is, the truth slipping from his lips. ]
You've all changed so much that I barely even know you anymore. I'm grateful to be alive, but I don't know why you even came for me. You had moved on so far from that ragtag group of assholes, you didn't need me.
If I helped seal you all together as a group, that was worth it. Now I just feel like a ghost, and afterthought of guilt. Some of you changed because of my death and it now feels... cheapened, now.
no subject
You stupid, selfish bastard. None of that matters! You don't have any idea, do you? No idea how much it means to everyone that you're back, you're sitting around in the dark moping about not fitting in instead of talking to us. It doesn't mean a damn thing if we've changed, we're still your friends, or did dying scramble your head that much?
no subject
You barely even knew me! I can understand Yasha, but the rest of you? Fuck. You've all been together for essentially half of my lifespan and you think I'll just hop in like I've never left?
[ It's hot, vitriolic acid, these words, and it's not making any of it better. ]
What am I supposed to talk to you about? How is that even helpful? Saying that I feel like I don't fit in any more is just going to create more guilt and people denying it. The fucking truth is you're all strangers to me now. New names, new bodies, new voices, new secrets. I don't know any of you and the only reason I'm back is because you somehow need to get it off your conscience.
[ Pause. ]
...and I can't live up to this saint some of you have built me up to be, taking my words as some kind of gospel. I'm an asshole.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...