[ It's storming in lashes, rain scoring across his already wounded body as he stares at the swirling black clouds. As he grabs the railing and stands up in the crow's nest he barely has time for his eyes to widen before two Eldritch Blasts hit him in succession; he gasps awake for a split second as Relentless Endurance kicks in only to have a third explosion rocket into him, completing the attack.
He tumbles forward with the shock and careens into a freefall, slamming heavily into the deck. The warmth of a healing spell jolts him lucid just long enough to see Caduceus casting from across the ship and his friends starting to reach the deck. The storm rages all around, aquatic monsters hissing as the nearest advances and he knows then that the Nein can't reach him.
Beau's scream mingles with the thunderstorm.
He feels the Sword of Fathoms, once his to wield, slice through his chest, hacking through his organs and breaking his ribcage in two as the curved tip lodges in the deck. Gargling in shock, he stares up into the hideous open maw of Uk'otoa's scion as its jaw opens up in a triumphant roar.
One final breath leaves him as he goes limp and the world fades to black.
He's afraid.
I'm so cold ...
A bloom of green helps wash away the anxiety. The Wildmother is there, too grand for him to see her face but her motherly embrace is all around him to banish the cold terror. She cradles him like a son and the knowledge is there that she would have kept him safe from Uk'otoa in death even if he had failed as her Paladin.
He's never felt a mother's love like this. She's warm and comforting, and then ...
Fjord opens his eyes to the harsh storm he left in agony, revivified. ]
[ The rain is everywhere and the screaming. The fall. The sound of a body hitting the deck with a sickening crash and then... then pain. Dreams should not involve pain but here it is, terrifying and real.
The creature shoving his blade through the limp form is enough to make him snap and hiss in the bed where he dreams, desperate to do something but trapped in this vision of Fjord's last moment. (It's not at all like just going to sleep.)
Then She's there and the horror fades. Molly's never felt a mother's love, either, so it's a shared moment of the comfort they've both missed in childhood. It's warmth and sweetness and the open road ahead.
He can breathe again when Fjord opens his pretty golden eyes, but his fitful sleep has gravitated him towards the real Fjord, holding on to him desperately. Like he could protect him and comfort him in one. ]
[ He doesn't open his eyes to the sight of his friends' crying faces, instead met with a cracked ceiling. When he inhales he finds a weight on his chest, panicking for a moment before he twitches and feels hot skin under his hands, arms wrapped around ... ]
Molly?
[ Fragmented emotions from the dream return but thankfully it's mostly the warmth of the Wildmother's sanctuary. He blinks down at the tiefling wrapped around him, patting him on the back to try and wake him up. ]
[ Molly mumbles a bit and then his red eyes suddenly snap open, and he looks at Fjord with a strange mix of both fear, calmness and relief all mixed into one. A breath passes and then he hugs the half-orc tightly. ]
I dreamt... fuck, what a messed-up dream. Are you alright?
Without waking, Fjord sits up silently in the bed he shares with his friend and slips out, barefoot in just his slacks and the shirt he sleeps in as he makes his way to the barricaded door; calmly, he takes down the chair and steps into the shadowy hallway of the house, pacing methodically in a trance all the way downstairs, leaving the front door wide open.
He feels nothing en route to the beach, the giveaway from cobbled streets to soft sand between his toes elicits no response, walking directly for the black inky line of the shifting ocean. The automatons nearby notice and assess his state, two peeling off to trail Fjord as he walks down to the foamy shore where the icy water gets no reaction either, not even when it splashes up his knees, his thighs, encircling his waist.
He keeps going.
There's a black glimmer under the waves when his head finally slips under and he instinctively heads toward it, sucked in with unnatural force before the rift seals and leaves nothing but darkness in the water once more. The robots by the water's edge wait patiently for his return, something that doesn't happen until the following night, almost minute-for-minute when Fjord's body floats to the surface and the metal men start wading into the sea to fish his unconscious body out, hoisting his limp form into their arms before heading for the hospital.
Fjord lays there until mid-morning when his eyes finally flutter open to a pale, soft world that he doesn't recognise, blearily staring at the ceiling. His head hurts so much. ]
[ The voice is soft and concerned, and Molly leans over the hospital bed to look at his friend. He had slept through everything Fjord had done, because of course that was a day where he actually slept rather than his tossing, turning an nighttime brooding.
Molly had been freaked out when he couldn't find Fjord and even more so when he had tracked him both by steps and asking people (and automatons) if someone had seen him.
The water. Of course.
Molly had searched for any trace of his friend in the water until he was sure he was going to drown as well, and then dragged himself all over the nameless island to hear about any similar instances. That's how he ended up at the hospital, just waiting for Fjord. ]
[ His bleary gaze sharpens when he finds a horned, fanged, red-eyed person next to him, freezing until the soft smile sinks in and he supposes he isn't going to be attacked. He looks at the lavender tiefling blankly, then to the room, and back to his bedside companion.
Not wanting to make such a person angry, he hesitantly asks, ]
[ It aches to sit up but he doesn't like laying down with someone hovering so close. His gaze roams around, drawn back to that disappointed look. Confused. ]
... No. Who am I? I can't remember ... anything. How strange.
[ Molly gives a wan smile and sits back even more so he's not crowding his friend... no matter how much he wants to. ]
It's okay. It will be okay, I promise. I know its strange to not know anything, but you're safe. That's the most important part. We'll work on the rest, okay?
[ He knows better than anyone how it feels, after all. ]
Your name is Fjord. We're friends, and you disappeared in the middle of the night.
[ He heads down to the beach shortly after receiving her message. No armour today, just a pilfered cotton shirt from one of the houses with the sleeves rolled up and his usual leathers. The Bag of Holding is slung over a shoulder, containing the hot chocolate bombs and other possessions he doesn't want to leave unattended in the house, and he walks with a light gait across the sand. Getting to see Aphrodite again is a welcome break from the stress of everything else going on.
Fjord finds the tent but comes to a halt when he spots the round dragonlings, eyeballing them. His experience so far with any dragon has been that they want to eat him, so he's hesitant to approach further. ]
[There's not much to fear from the little dragons, only about as tall as Fjord's calf and just as wide. Round roly polies that seems content to help and maybe Aphrodite has recruited a few of them to her service. (She won't turn down good help when it presents itself.)
A red and yellow one perk up when Fjord approaches, kicking up sand when they run round his ankles before taking off down the beach. It's a plain looking tent, they lead him to, canvas dark from the outside, but the flap of fabric when the two dragonlings skitter reveals a warm glow from the inside.]
Oh, has he arrived, darlings? Tall, green and handsome, just like I told you, hm? [A voice rings out from inside,] Come on inside, Fjord!
[If and when he opens the flap, he'll find an interior much cozier than the outside would suggest. Pillows and blankets fill the space in between, mismatched (likely pilfered from different places on the island), and in the middle is none other than Aphrodite, who isn't wearing anything more than what Fjord found her in the first time they met. Minus the bubbles.]
[ He wonders if the round little balloons with wings will one day grow up to eat people, distracted from such thoughts as he steps inside the warm interior of the tent and is swiftly unable to think of much beyond the beautiful naked woman laid out like the goddess she claims to be.
Fjord hasn't doubted her to date, nor does he now. ]
Busy day?
[ Ordinarily he would avert his eyes but there seems so little point to that when Aphrodite isn't embarrassed, owning her nudity in a way that normalises it. Fjord sinks down on a knee to lean in for a kiss, bag dropping to the pillows. ]
[It helps that she has a whole lot of hair that drapes over her like silk, but really, she just likes it. Likes the flutter of a heartbeat she can sense in others when they see her, and the attention it demands - but not just that, but she felt powerful and beautiful and saw no reason to hide it.
She smiles when he kneels down, sitting up to meet him half way and offers a kiss that she chases after once he's pulled away, to nibble at his lip playfully before pulling back once again.]
I wouldn't say busy. To tell the truth, I feel like I've been sleeping so much recently.
[Lots of interesting dreams that she's not entirely certain are just dreams.]
[ Fjord's heartbeat feels like it's been rapidly picking up tempo since he walked in, happy to let her have as lingering a kiss as she wants. He sinks down beside her and opens the Bag of Holding, reaching his whole arm in to root around, but his attention roams over her like he can't help himself.
The mention of sleep has him barking a wry laugh. ]
I'm glad one of us can sleep, I've been having nightmares and a few extra on top lately.
[Her sympathy is genuine, but at the same time that he is distracted by her, she's distracted by that bag, one that he just shoved his whole arm in, like it had created a hole in the bottom of her tent, and she can't help but sit up taller on her knees, trying to peer around his arm into it.
[ After contacting Peter, who Fjord considers the likeliest person to have a lighthearted spar with, he makes his way down to the beach in full armour and casts his cloak off once he finds a nice open spot, not too close to the waves but far enough from the dunes so that people won't walk by and accidentally surprise them.
He summons the Star Razor in a flash of water that turns to frost as it hits the sand, working through his attacks as smoothly as he can minus a partner. It feels so good to have his sword back that he doesn't notice when Peter arrives, lashing iceflex mithril through the air with a faint magical hum. ]
[ Peter has been missing some action of the pg-sort, and it's happy to have someone to spar with for the time being. He comes wearing his short, red leather jacket and the maroon pants that match it and are very comfortable to run and fight with them. He also carries a large variety of gadgets on him, including his preferred weapon of choice: the quad blasters.
When he gets to their meeting spot, he can see that Fjord had already started without him. Peter waits until Fjord is done casting the attack, smiling at the display of magic in front of him. ]
That's so very cool, dude.
[ But Fjord, why are you bringing a broadsword to a gun fight? ]
[ Swinging wide when he hears that voice, he shoulders the sword and paces over with a smile. The sight of weapons holstered on the other man is an expected one, although they aren't quite the shape Fjord imagined. ]
'Sup! I'd love to see more, I always find magic fascinating. [ It's a pity he lost his celestial powers because those were fun, so he's just going to enjoy seeing his other friends do magic instead. Fjord question has Peter pausing as if he's running a mental inventory of the stuff he's carrying. ]
Mmm...noooo? I might have a sharp pencil on me, if it helps, but that's pretty much it. Yeah, he knows it won't help. Sorry, blades are more Drax's thing, I'm used to guns instead. But if you have a spare sword, I could try?
[ He's seen Drax and Gamora use them often enough, they can't be that difficult, right? And then Peter loses a finger or two.]
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( NOV )
( ★ )
• aphrodite; smut, first meeting @ party bath
• molly; joint network post
( event dream for molly )
He tumbles forward with the shock and careens into a freefall, slamming heavily into the deck. The warmth of a healing spell jolts him lucid just long enough to see Caduceus casting from across the ship and his friends starting to reach the deck. The storm rages all around, aquatic monsters hissing as the nearest advances and he knows then that the Nein can't reach him.
Beau's scream mingles with the thunderstorm.
He feels the Sword of Fathoms, once his to wield, slice through his chest, hacking through his organs and breaking his ribcage in two as the curved tip lodges in the deck. Gargling in shock, he stares up into the hideous open maw of Uk'otoa's scion as its jaw opens up in a triumphant roar.
One final breath leaves him as he goes limp and the world fades to black.
He's afraid.
I'm so cold ...
A bloom of green helps wash away the anxiety. The Wildmother is there, too grand for him to see her face but her motherly embrace is all around him to banish the cold terror. She cradles him like a son and the knowledge is there that she would have kept him safe from Uk'otoa in death even if he had failed as her Paladin.
He's never felt a mother's love like this. She's warm and comforting, and then ...
Fjord opens his eyes to the harsh storm he left in agony, revivified. ]
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The creature shoving his blade through the limp form is enough to make him snap and hiss in the bed where he dreams, desperate to do something but trapped in this vision of Fjord's last moment. (It's not at all like just going to sleep.)
Then She's there and the horror fades. Molly's never felt a mother's love, either, so it's a shared moment of the comfort they've both missed in childhood. It's warmth and sweetness and the open road ahead.
He can breathe again when Fjord opens his pretty golden eyes, but his fitful sleep has gravitated him towards the real Fjord, holding on to him desperately. Like he could protect him and comfort him in one. ]
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Molly?
[ Fragmented emotions from the dream return but thankfully it's mostly the warmth of the Wildmother's sanctuary. He blinks down at the tiefling wrapped around him, patting him on the back to try and wake him up. ]
Molls, you're kind of heavy.
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I dreamt... fuck, what a messed-up dream. Are you alright?
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What did you see in the dream?
[ He replaces his arms around him, peering down at a shaken Molly. How awful is this island? Enough that he suspects Molly just saw into his head?
Probably. ]
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[ Like he, too, would be. What a thing to have in common! ]
I'm not sure why, it just... it seemed more like a memory.
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( canon update )
Without waking, Fjord sits up silently in the bed he shares with his friend and slips out, barefoot in just his slacks and the shirt he sleeps in as he makes his way to the barricaded door; calmly, he takes down the chair and steps into the shadowy hallway of the house, pacing methodically in a trance all the way downstairs, leaving the front door wide open.
He feels nothing en route to the beach, the giveaway from cobbled streets to soft sand between his toes elicits no response, walking directly for the black inky line of the shifting ocean. The automatons nearby notice and assess his state, two peeling off to trail Fjord as he walks down to the foamy shore where the icy water gets no reaction either, not even when it splashes up his knees, his thighs, encircling his waist.
He keeps going.
There's a black glimmer under the waves when his head finally slips under and he instinctively heads toward it, sucked in with unnatural force before the rift seals and leaves nothing but darkness in the water once more. The robots by the water's edge wait patiently for his return, something that doesn't happen until the following night, almost minute-for-minute when Fjord's body floats to the surface and the metal men start wading into the sea to fish his unconscious body out, hoisting his limp form into their arms before heading for the hospital.
Fjord lays there until mid-morning when his eyes finally flutter open to a pale, soft world that he doesn't recognise, blearily staring at the ceiling. His head hurts so much. ]
Where ... ?
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[ The voice is soft and concerned, and Molly leans over the hospital bed to look at his friend. He had slept through everything Fjord had done, because of course that was a day where he actually slept rather than his tossing, turning an nighttime brooding.
Molly had been freaked out when he couldn't find Fjord and even more so when he had tracked him both by steps and asking people (and automatons) if someone had seen him.
The water. Of course.
Molly had searched for any trace of his friend in the water until he was sure he was going to drown as well, and then dragged himself all over the nameless island to hear about any similar instances. That's how he ended up at the hospital, just waiting for Fjord. ]
You scared the shit out of me.
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Not wanting to make such a person angry, he hesitantly asks, ]
Who are you?
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[ Molly pales a bit, and then leans back slightly to not frighten Fjord. Did he forget?
...everything? ]
I'm your friend. Molly. Do you... do you know who you are?
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... No. Who am I? I can't remember ... anything. How strange.
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It's okay. It will be okay, I promise. I know its strange to not know anything, but you're safe. That's the most important part. We'll work on the rest, okay?
[ He knows better than anyone how it feels, after all. ]
Your name is Fjord. We're friends, and you disappeared in the middle of the night.
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( aphrodite's tent )
[ He heads down to the beach shortly after receiving her message. No armour today, just a pilfered cotton shirt from one of the houses with the sleeves rolled up and his usual leathers. The Bag of Holding is slung over a shoulder, containing the hot chocolate bombs and other possessions he doesn't want to leave unattended in the house, and he walks with a light gait across the sand. Getting to see Aphrodite again is a welcome break from the stress of everything else going on.
Fjord finds the tent but comes to a halt when he spots the round dragonlings, eyeballing them. His experience so far with any dragon has been that they want to eat him, so he's hesitant to approach further. ]
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A red and yellow one perk up when Fjord approaches, kicking up sand when they run round his ankles before taking off down the beach. It's a plain looking tent, they lead him to, canvas dark from the outside, but the flap of fabric when the two dragonlings skitter reveals a warm glow from the inside.]
Oh, has he arrived, darlings? Tall, green and handsome, just like I told you, hm? [A voice rings out from inside,] Come on inside, Fjord!
[If and when he opens the flap, he'll find an interior much cozier than the outside would suggest. Pillows and blankets fill the space in between, mismatched (likely pilfered from different places on the island), and in the middle is none other than Aphrodite, who isn't wearing anything more than what Fjord found her in the first time they met. Minus the bubbles.]
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Fjord hasn't doubted her to date, nor does he now. ]
Busy day?
[ Ordinarily he would avert his eyes but there seems so little point to that when Aphrodite isn't embarrassed, owning her nudity in a way that normalises it. Fjord sinks down on a knee to lean in for a kiss, bag dropping to the pillows. ]
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She smiles when he kneels down, sitting up to meet him half way and offers a kiss that she chases after once he's pulled away, to nibble at his lip playfully before pulling back once again.]
I wouldn't say busy. To tell the truth, I feel like I've been sleeping so much recently.
[Lots of interesting dreams that she's not entirely certain are just dreams.]
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The mention of sleep has him barking a wry laugh. ]
I'm glad one of us can sleep, I've been having nightmares and a few extra on top lately.
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[Her sympathy is genuine, but at the same time that he is distracted by her, she's distracted by that bag, one that he just shoved his whole arm in, like it had created a hole in the bottom of her tent, and she can't help but sit up taller on her knees, trying to peer around his arm into it.
She'll get back to the nightmares in a moment,]
How curious. What sort of magic is this?
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...
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( sparring with peter )
[ After contacting Peter, who Fjord considers the likeliest person to have a lighthearted spar with, he makes his way down to the beach in full armour and casts his cloak off once he finds a nice open spot, not too close to the waves but far enough from the dunes so that people won't walk by and accidentally surprise them.
He summons the Star Razor in a flash of water that turns to frost as it hits the sand, working through his attacks as smoothly as he can minus a partner. It feels so good to have his sword back that he doesn't notice when Peter arrives, lashing iceflex mithril through the air with a faint magical hum. ]
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When he gets to their meeting spot, he can see that Fjord had already started without him. Peter waits until Fjord is done casting the attack, smiling at the display of magic in front of him. ]
That's so very cool, dude.
[ But Fjord, why are you bringing a broadsword to a gun fight? ]
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[ Swinging wide when he hears that voice, he shoulders the sword and paces over with a smile. The sight of weapons holstered on the other man is an expected one, although they aren't quite the shape Fjord imagined. ]
Do you have a sword or daggers?
[ Like ... secreted somewhere. ]
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Mmm...noooo? I might have a sharp pencil on me, if it helps, but that's pretty much it. Yeah, he knows it won't help. Sorry, blades are more Drax's thing, I'm used to guns instead. But if you have a spare sword, I could try?
[ He's seen Drax and Gamora use them often enough, they can't be that difficult, right?
And then Peter loses a finger or two.]Or I can teach you how to use my blasters.
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[ What the fuck are blasters, though? He peers at them curiously. ]
Are they like crossbows?
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