bakerstreet | in other words...

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[meme] word prompts

in other words...

THE OTHERWORDLY MEME
Sometimes all you need is a word to spark off an idea.

How to play -

1. Post a comment with your character's name, canon, and any preferences you may have (no shipping, no smut, etc.)
2. Leave the comment blank or post a word or two in the body. (It may also help if you list scenarios you would like to play.)
3. Reply to other people, either with words you picked out, or words they posted as prompts for a thread.

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It's...

[Hmm. He stands up, tucking the meager bits of wood under his arm and heading over to Fjord so they can walk in the light together as he mulls over an answer. This, too, is something of a struggle to find.]

If I'm being honest, I'm a little... conflicted. [He'd like to leave it at that, simple and messy as so many things end up becoming with their group, but that feels too unfair. He's not much good with secrets.] I do miss home. I miss my family. I knew what life meant there, what I existed to do, and the importance of it all. The wide world is so much more obscured than anything I ever saw in these woods.

[Dark and grim and empty as it felt, it was his. There are so many unknowns beyond these trees. Now that it might finally begin to heal again, he's struggled with the concept of "now what?"]

Last time I saw them, I told them I'd be home soon. I suppose that'll be true, now. I just don't know when going home to stay might be.

[And just like before, when it comes time to pick up and move on again, he doesn't know how he'll tell them.]

[There have been times when some distant memory of Fjord-the-orphan has envied his friends their families, their homes. And then there are times when he feels least equipped to help with the complications that arise there. (Beau's mixed feelings about her little brother, Jester missing her mother and confronting her father, Veth coming and going so often from her husband, and her son...) There's really something to be said for having everyone in the world who matters to you in one place. A simplicity and a certainty in knowing for sure where you're most needed—be it a graveyard, or a group of traveling assholes who could use some looking after.

Harder when you have to choose between them. He finds he's very much relieved to hear that Caduceus has no immediate plans to stay here for good when the Nein inevitably move on from the Savalirwood—at about the very same time that occurs to him that he hadn't even realized it might be an option. Caduceus is rarely anything but honest, but his placid nature makes it a little too easy to see him as a constant. Unchangeable. He's a member of the Mighty Nein, so of course he would belong with them. (He is a member of the Clay family—no doubt they see things the same way.)

He hums, lifts a shoulder in something of a shrug, gestures at the woods around them with the tip of his blade.]

I mean, we could always just...turn around.

[Said lightly, even flippantly. Balanced in a blurry place between being a throwaway joke and a sincere suggestion, and also probably little bit of both at once. A gently offered out, if Caduceus wants to put off having to think about it at all. A simple, messy solution. Is there harm in it? The Clays have things under control. They're only really here because they'd been nearby, because Caduceus hadn't told them no in so many words when someone had brought up the possibility of stopping by his home as they pass through. He'd hate to realize too late that they're penning him into a situation he's not ready to face.

Mock-gravely—]

Could be I just remembered some very urgent business in Nicodranas, all of a sudden. You don't know.

Edited 2021-02-04 19:20 (UTC)

...Always an option, I suppose.

[It's a kind offer; Caduceus is a little guilty about how tempting it is. Just quietly move along, feign an emergency, come back to this place when he truly feels ready to stay- for a while, or for longer, whatever he decides. It would be dishonest on too many levels for him, though, to an extent he'd struggle with it in the aftermath. The truth would come out amongst their friends, because lying to them is an option he's not fond of indulging, his family even less so. Eventually he would make his way here again, be faced with this choice. Others have learned how to come and go as they need. It's an important lesson for him to learn as well, if he's going to continue this journey for a while yet.

He offers Fjord a soft smile, grateful even as he shakes his head.]

I don't dread saying farewell again enough to deny myself or them the chance to visit.

[He'd been alone for so long, and saw them again so briefly after they'd been spared from the terrible fate they'd fallen into. A handful of days after years of waiting. He should cherish these moments, like Jester, like Veth. He's lucky enough to have a family waiting for him, who love and care for him, who wish for him to live and thrive in a way that suits him best. It isn't their fault that he's still figuring that part out, and may continue to do so for a while yet. He'd split from them again claiming he owed a debt to the Nein, and that as partially true, but it's also an excuse he doesn't know how long on which he can rely. It may be that his family already knows it's a crutch. They wouldn't blame his friends, he hopes. If he'd asked them, they would let him stay and move on without him. If. But he won't, so he'll need to tell them once more that he'll be going with them when the group moves on.

The suggestion to move on, to take the potential fallout for the inconvenience is a kindness, though, so with his free hand he briefly grasps Fjord's shoulder as they walk. He understands the intent, and is grateful it was offered, but he's walked into too many frightful and deadly situations, only to run away from the home that he loves.]

[Deflection is his way. For all he's learned to rely less on the defense mechanism of it all, that's not likely to change any time soon. Fjord is a firm believer that there are times and places and uses for some well applied bullshit. (Even, sometimes, among friends.)

So, y'know. It's an offer. One Caduceus unsurprisingly declines, but he hardly takes offense to that. He nods, looks over the hand on shoulder to give Caduceus a thin smile of his own. Agreeably, evenly—]

That sounds very fair.

[Very sensible. (What a concept.) There's a beat, while he seems to chew on what he wants to say next. Until, finally—]

...You can tell us, you know. If you get— [At a loss, he fumbles for the right words for it. Gestures expansively, if a little helplessly, with the hand not currently occupied with his sword, before landing on—] homesick, or something. We can always come back.

[Many of the others have learned to walk away, leave people behind. By the same token, the group has made accommodations for that sacrifice, when they can. As long as they're not actively in the middle of something (crossing the ocean, or exploring an extradimensional mage-trap, or fighting a dragon, or...something) there's no reason they can't afford Caduceus the same courtesy. Caleb has gotten pretty good at the teleporting thing, when he knows where they're going.

He likes to think that ought to be obvious. But given it's taken this long to come up, it feels like it could stand some saying. After another beat, with a little bit of a rueful look—]

As long as your family will have us, I suppose.

[Considering the bit of a mess certain members of their party made in pranking the citizens of the Menagerie on their way out...maybe it'd be well within the rights of the Clays to ask them to keep a respectful distance this time.]

[Homesick... he wonders if that's what it really is. He feels it in bits and bursts, undeniably, when times are the most difficult and he remembers how peaceful his life used to be, just him and the temple and his garden, surrounded by the dead and the flowers their ashes grew. But through prayer or his own self-awareness, he's just as frequently reminded that days are made far less lonely when the company he keeps is loud and present in his life. Jester will draw a dick somewhere, Caleb and Beau will talk animatedly about history or the arcane, Veth will shoot someone and refuse to apologize for it, Yasha will pluck her bone harp. And sometimes, in moments like these, Caduceus will be reminded as well that the Wildmother walks with him, and Fjord is still new to her guidance. It doesn't hurt to share company with one who understands your path to some degree.

Much easier to talk about family than how he feels about home, so he smiles as he focuses on that at first.]

I doubt they'd find much cause to refuse. They're very grateful to you all, you know. For saving them.

[He's here to help repay that debt, yes, but that doesn't mean the others aren't appropriately grateful. A few days respite is a very small price to pay for someone's life being spared. The rest... well, maybe he'll circle back on. Let him mull on it a bit longer.]

[Lucky that if it's one thing they can be counted on for as a group, it's being a distraction. Case in point: he's steered easily enough to the topic of the Clays—though it means deflecting a little, reflexively, when Caduceus raises the matter of gratitude.]

Well, that was... I mean, you and Jester— [Y'know. Did most of the heavy lifting, there. That whole petrification thing would have been pretty impossible a fix for the rest of them. (Hell, Jester—remarkable woman she is—had stubbornly pieced someone together from shattered stone and still saved her. It had been a near thing—one he'd quietly feared would end messily, even horribly. But it had worked.) He'd seen both of them work miracles, that day.

...neither here nor there. He catches himself equivocating and shifts, leans his weight back against the flank of a sturdy-seeming tree, apparently kind of given up on the exercise of actually gathering usable fuel, for the moment. He blows a breath out through his teeth and looks up at the boughs, as if to better recall that day.]

We were happy to help, of course. That was all pretty fucked, what happened to them.

[When you think about it. How long they had been there, just frozen in time. How long would they have stayed there, if the Nein hadn't come by to kill the bull and restore them? Years, decades. Long enough to shatter in the elements, crumble into dust.]

...It was. [There's no argument, of course. He can't even begin to fathom how wretched he'd have felt if he had come across his family too late- days, months, or even years later, assuming he even made it this far alone, which was dodgy considering all that had stood between them and their destination. If he had arrived and found nothing but wreckage, broken pieces like his aunt had been reduced to. And surely he'd have shared their fate and been lost to time and ruin as well. There'd be no saving his home, and the Wildmother would have had to turn elsewhere with her mission. So many things could have gone differently, and could have gone very wrong.]

Don't sell yourself short. I couldn't have done this, any of this, without the rest of you, and my family knows it too. The Mighty Nein will always be welcome in these woods.

[His hand brushes over the bark of one of the trees as they pass by. As much as anyone can be welcome here, these days. Until true health and peace returns to all that lives here, he won't make promises against potential danger. But the broader welcome they might receive here one day is thanks to them, too.]

[That's actually pretty touching, buddy. It's hard not to be buoyed by the sentiment, even surrounded as they are by the ominous whispering of a lightly cursed wood. He comes around and accepts that thanks with a crooked smile, clears his throat, pushes his way away from the tree he'd been leaning against. (It's pride, maybe. In himself, in them. To have done good for these people—and in particular for someone who's done so much for him in turn.) It moves him along with a shade more confidence. He claps Caduceus on the shoulder as he passes. Lightly—]

Best that we're learning our way around them, then.

[As if to punctuate this very optimistic sentiment, his next step through the tangled underbrush sinks though the foliage...and just keeps going. His bootheel hits air unexpectedly, like dropping off the edge of a cliff, and he overbalances. Reacts too slowly not to topple and to vanish down into it. He drops from view with a yelp, gone in a blur of broken branches and snapping thorns as he skids down the sudden steep ledge that had been hiding under some overgrown barbs.]

Shit-balls-motherfuck—

[Given the tenor of his swearing, it doesn't sound like a long enough fall to be serious. (...at least, he's conscious. So, y'know. Close enough.) And small favors—the Star Razor makes him easy to find. Shining like a beacon at the bottom of the dropoff. Melora have mercy on him. He tries.]

[Caduceus isn't typically one for schadenfreude, but there are exceptions. Between the gloomy woods, the serious topic, and all of the worries lingering around the both of them for problems present and future, the stress had admittedly been mounting. Witnessing that fall - and recognizing after the fact that Fjord is very much alive and okay enough to be cussing about it - is just the right sort of ruckus and flair of absurd drama that he loves about the Nein, and it gives Caduceus the freedom to crouch down at the edge with a quiet and amused chuckle. He casts Light at the end of his staff and stretches it out over the sword's answering beacon so he can see better from his end.]

Thanks for finding that one for me. I'd have had a real tumble.

[As evidenced.]

[This is what they get for trying to have a serious conversation for too long. They really should have seen this coming.

Fjord sits himself up with a grumble and shakes some debris out of his hair and squints through the dirt that's still raining down on him, up at the light. Between his darkvision and the light on the staff and the Star Razor he's got a pretty good measure of the drop. It's steep and spotted with thorns, and it probably would have hurt more on the landing if he hadn't skidded his way down the slope. Easy to see how he'd missed it—he's ended up in a hollow of some sort in the ground, but it's overgrown, hidden. There's a Fjord-sized hole in the foliage that Caduceus is peering at him through.

Laconic—]

We wouldn't want that.

[Sounds terrible. He absolutely meant to do this. Sure. He pulls himself to his feet with a groan and dusts himself off with his free hand. (Mussed, scraped, sore, but nothing seems broken.) He clears his throat, and compensates for this nonsense with a moment of overly put-upon confidence.] Right, yes. No worries, all clear down here!

[...is it? He looks back down and actually takes a moment to case the rest of the hollow. It was a loud enough crash, though apparently not loud enough to alert the others. He doesn't see much movement, doesn't hear anything strange, save for the settling of the soil. (Though, perception is not precisely his forte.)

It's probably fine.]

Are you coming down, or shall I—?

I think I'll make it.

[Okay, okay, he's had his fun. He climbs down - carefully - and for a moment looks between them, Fjord's disheveled state and the pitiful set of blackened twigs he's managed to collect thus far. ~~rolls 2 for investigation, woo~~]

I do have a feeling we'll end up in the dome tonight.

[They tried, they really did. They were really going to rough it like old times. But camping in these woods is probably a bad idea, and the trees themselves are telling them no. Best they heed that call before something goes legitimately wrong, moreso than a missed step into the dirt. He does gesture up towards his hair, indicating for Fjord- hey, you've got a few leaves in there. Better look presentable, or the others will start asking embarrassing questions of you.]

[It's hardly the most dangerous terrain they've tackled. Still, he's attentive as Caduceus attempts the slope, watching with a slightly sharper eye, lest something decide to snap out from from under them in a more dramatic way. (It would be their luck.) His stance relaxes just a touch once all feet are accounted for on the ground.

So distracted, he blinks, pauses to frown at Caduceus' gesturing for a puzzled second or so until he seems to clock the meaning of it. Very kind of you to pretend he has any lingering dignity left in the group to salvage, bud. He appreciates it. Fjord exhales a little wearily and reaches up to fish for lingering foliage. He tugs at a particularly stubborn and particularly tangled twig and winces when it pulls at his hair. Ow.

As he does—]

So much for sleeping without Beau's elbows lodged in my kidneys, I suppose.

[This is a joke. (He loves u, Beau.) There's room enough in the bubble, and it's warmer and more secure than most alternatives...save for the obvious one. (He understands why Caleb can't muster the magic for the tower every night, but hell if it isn't convenient.)]

It's not so terrible. At least you'll know she's still with you in the morning.

[He doesn't mind the close quarters; really, he'd been used to it.Growing up it was a very small house, and that meant it was full when everyone was home at once. The dome was just more of that most days. Actually-]

You might find it preferable to the temple if we stay over. I'm afraid the floor is the best we can offer for a group our size.

[Though Caleb should have the power to spare for the mansion, if they're looking for comfort. Caduceus... well, he's looking forward to indulging a little. His simple old bed, in his family's home, and someone snoring like a log around the corner. The sound of the woods around them, and the presence of the Wildmother in their temple nearby. Just like old times.]

[You underestimate the damage Beau can do with those elbows, Deucey. But, well...point. Hard to forget what had happened the first time they'd been in this neck of the woods, before the dome had even been an option. Put that way, he can't find the reason or the heart to keep joking about it. He looks at least a little contrite, as he concentrates on finally freeing that damned twig from his hair. Firmly, lest Caduceus dare to think his family's hospitality is going to be judged, here—]

I don't think that should be a problem. [And, with a little more levity—] We've slept on far worse than temple floors, lately.

[If anyone complains they'll probably at last have the good grace to do it out of earshot of their hosts. (...Probably.) He fiddles with the now-untangled twig in his hands pensively rather than tossing it aside right away, rolling it between his fingers as he considers the little hollow they've discovered. The last bits of fading sunset light filter down through the hole he'd punched in the canopy. A rotting log sprouts pale mushrooms on one side. Another corner houses a flattened bed of some sort that looks like the home of some sizable animal. (A bear maybe? He kind of hopes it's a bear. Or something similarly...predictable.)]

I suppose you wouldn't get many visitors.

[What with the Savalirwood being as spooky and as dangerous as it is. Can't really blame them for being unequipped to house a whole adventuring group on short notice.]

[However the Mighty Nein behave, it isn't as if Caduceus' family aren't well aware of their idiosyncrasies at this point. Not all, of course (that would take far longer than a handful of days, and Cad himself is still learning more) but enough to get a vibe. Anyway, they may not always be the pinnacle of respect but they're not malicious about it in a way that would be hurtful to one another... mostly. Teasing and critique is all well and good, and so long as no one defaced the temple, there'd be no issue.]

Not many, no. Most people who go through these woods don't veer far from the path, and are too eager to get out of it to go looking. Not to mention, travelers don't often visit the grove to see the sights.

[They come to bury the dead, or in very rare instances, seek help in preventing more death. Most don't even dare to visit the graves of their loved ones, leaving the upkeep to the Clay family. There's little sense in remembering their loss so directly that they end up dying in an unfriendly forest.]

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