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[barberian]

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stone

[technicallytechnically]

[Not long after sundown, but long enough that each of the (remaining) Mighty Nein seem to have retired to their rooms for the evening, Yasha's Stone of Farspeech starts emitting a very familiar conspiratorial whisper.]

Yasha. Yasha! Are you in Molly's room right now? Or are you in the room with the sock??

[barberian]

(There's a bit of noise on the other end, maybe of somebody trying to muffle the stone, cover it with a hand. A few moments later, Yasha yawns directly into the feed.)

Jester. I am in Molly's room, and I'm trying to sleep.

(imagine that)

[technicallytechnically]

[Still whispered, but definitely not quiet enough to not potentially stir Molly.]

Okay, but so am I, and I kinda need your help, so can you come here for a little bit? Just like, two minutes, I promise. And don't tell Molly! It's an emeeeeeergency!

[barberian]

Can't you ask Beau instead? (She's so reluctant to get out of bed and leave the comforting safety of Mollymauk's truly dismal attempt to spoon her, but she can't ignore what may be desperation in Jester's whisper either...

Another short sigh.)

Give me a minute... (and, true to her word, she's letting herself quietly into Jester's room not long after, closing the door gently behind her. She doesn't want to wake up the rest of the house. She's going to come and sit on the end of Jester's bed, knuckling her eye slowly.)

What's wrong. Where's the emergency?

[technicallytechnically]

[Jester, as she usually does just before she tucks herself in for the night, has a pen in her hand and her sketchbook open to a blank page next to where she's sat cross-legged on her bed.

The value of being the holder of the handy haversack is: your junk is waterproof As Fuck.

But, while she's dressed down for the night, she looks wide awake. There are a few scribbles in the sketchbook, where she may have started to draw or write something, but given up and scratched it out in frustration.

She gives Yasha the biggest kicked puppy face in existence.]

Yasha... I can't sleep. I need a story.

[barberian]

(She's such a little shit. Yasha stares at her for a long moment, then kinda throws her arms up in the air in a 'this might as well happen' gesture, slowly pulling her legs up so she's sitting criss-cross applesauce on the end of Jester's bed.)

Fine. Alright. What do you need to hear a story about, Jester.

[technicallytechnically]

[Jester brightens immediately.]

Well! There were all those books that came in, and there's a full library and everything, but... none of the books looked all that interesting! I checked so many.

So, since you're the only one I know for sure has experience... I'm sure you could tell a really good story. Like, you can skip all the steamy bits, but like, I bet your first kiss was really good, like, the first time Guinevere kissed Oskar, and her legs gave out because she felt so much love that she almost fainted, and Oskar caught her in his strong arms and told her,

[Her voice drops a couple octaves.]

"I told you I'd always be there to catch you when you fall!"

[barberian]

(Yasha probably should have expected something like this might happen but it's still surprising and... embarrassing? She'd come in here with the intent to help Jester out with something and now she's being asked to recount the story of her first kiss with somebody she hasn't told Jester about yet. That part still confuses her.

She blinks, struggling to maintain an impassive expression.) Um...

(She finger combs her hair a little, or at least she tries. It's tangled from sleep.) It's... not a very interesting story. And I wouldn't be able to describe it like a romantic book would, you know.

[technicallytechnically]

But you know all the feelings you were feeling and stuff like, maybe she smelled really good, and um...

[Considering Jester's own first kiss was a little... unique, she may also be partly looking for a way to prove it didn't really count. Because, well, it didn't, and that's fine, and really anything to focus on other than trying to write her prayers to a god that she isn't sure is really listening anymore would be great.

So first kisses it is.]

You know, maybe she didn't think it was a big deal, but you thought it was, but then she realized how much she really loved you actually, because she couldn't stop thinking about you, and she came back on a white horse, and carried you across a field...

[barberian]

... Look, (Yasha says, holding up her hands to try and stop Jester before she gets even more carried away,) it really wasn't like that at all, it was... um, it was just normal, I think.

(Oh boy, now she's thinking about it. She hasn't thought about the first time Zuala ever kissed her in... a very long time. Yasha falls silent, lost in thought, but one of her elbows has propped up on her knee and her fingers are at her mouth, thumb idly tracing over her lower lip.)

[devilstongue]

[ Guess who's scooting into bed with his favorite pillow? This purple asshole. ]

Hello, love. You've been quiet lately.

[barberian]

(Oh, hello. Yasha grunts in reply, and doesn't move over to give him more of the bed. He will have to fling himself across more of her instead.)

I guess.

(Has she been? Maybe, maybe. She's been pretty lost in thought over the last few days, mulling things over in her head. Wondering what to do with them, wondering how she's supposed to look certain people in the eyes, now. At least they aren't here on the island too, that helps.)

[devilstongue]

[ When she doesn't scoot for him, Molly immediately drapes himself all over his friend like an affectionate blanket, trying to not poke her with his horns and making himself comfortable.

Like he's not going to leave any time soon. ]

You have that look on your face.

[ Like she was listening to the sky, lost and waiting to walk away with her thoughts. ]

Do you wanna talk about it, or do you want me to bullshit for a while as you think? I'll do your hair.

[ More like playing with it and running his fingers through the wild locks than any styling. He can wait for her to decide if she wants to share what was on her mind.

...and if she doesn't, Molly will be obnoxious about it instead. Sometimes you had to push a button. Lovingly. ]

[barberian]

You aren't even looking at my face.

(But she relents, softening her hunch and allowing him to wind his way around her. It's nice to have him there at her back. Just like always.)

I don't know, (she says, after a big sigh.) It's... all of this stuff, in the future. You know?

(He doesn't know. He isn't there with her to witness it all. The thought of that makes her reach for his hand, pull his arm snugly over her shoulder.)

[devilstongue]

I know your face enough.

[ He laces his fingers with hers, free of rings these days on the island, jewels all tucked away in a bag for safekeeping. It's softer, without the hard metal. Gentle but steady, just like his breathing. ]

It gets tough in the future, huh? I've heard some of it... but you have each other, right?

[ He doesn't say that he doesn't know. That's not what she needs right now. ]

The Mighty Nein. Pirating.

[barberian]

(That's nice. She rubs her thumb against his palm idly in little circles, as he curls up against her back.)

They all have each other. But...

(I'm not sure who I have. I'm not sure if anybody wants me there. She isn't sure how to say it to Molly, who will simply dismiss it out of hand; it's something she's been thinking about lately, churning over and over in her mind. Recent events haven't helped.)

I attacked them.

(It's easier to just say it, sometimes.) I was charmed, there was... (A tight, uncertain sigh.) I put my sword through Caleb and I hurt him. I could have killed him, I could have...

[devilstongue]

[ That 'but' is heartbreaking, and he gently coils his tail around her waist. Of course his first reactions to dismiss it. They care about her. He knows they do... right?

To him, everyone should love Yasha.

He listens to her explain what she did, and he can't quite stop the stunned reaction to how badly she hurt Caleb. Molly tightens his grip around her, shaking his head. ]

You were charmed. They can't blame you. They wouldn't.

[ What does he, know, though? He's missed months and months of how they've grown closer. ]

Beau and Jester definitely care about you, love. That wouldn't change because of something like that.

[ It's not a lie. He can't allow it to be. ]

[barberian]

It's not the blame. (It's the fear, she is becoming something to be scared of. A weapon that can be just as easily turned back on the people she is supposed to be fighting for. Yasha feels so tense and unhappy, lying so stoically on her side and facing the wall. She almost wants to jump up and pace.)

I- don't... know if they trust me.

(And she's too afraid to ask. Too scared to make herself vulnerable like that, not to people she's laid low.)

And... (another sigh. It's how she gets through talking about things she doesn't want to, by letting it all tumble out like an exhale,) Jester knows about Zuala. I told her, and Caduceus.

[devilstongue]

[ Molly runs his fingers through her hair, gently seperating a few pieces and smoothing it out. Trust was a funny thing. He hadn't trusted any of them, until everyone dropped everything to go after the people that had been taken. That's when he knew.

What she says makes him think she trusts them, but not knowing if it is returned must be painful. ]

They're all untrustworthy assholes, Yash. They always had our backs, though. I'm sure they've still had yours. They risked everything to get you back. because you're part of the Nein.

[ Another braid is carefully loosened, hair slipping between his fingers. ]

How did they take it?

[ He knows nothing about Caduceus, and while Jester is lovely - he's not sure if she understands the more complicated parts of love. ]

sometime u feel u kno a date time is fakerooni

[catpiper]

[Look, Ren's pretty much got a mental map of the island in her brain and the people she likes are marked in bright mental ink. There's no escaping it, unless Yasha decides to move one day.

The morning probably starts off like any other for her, except there's a sudden addition to her campsite. A girl who doesn't look too disturbed about intruding. Not one bit, actually. She's even looking at all their stuff just to see what's happening in this home. She's not looting at least. Just poking and prodding and minding her own goblin business until Yasha either wakes up or notices her.]

i understand completely

[barberian]

(Do you ever just wake up and Ren is There? This is the first time that this has ever happened to Yasha, but she isn't surprised about it. It seems like a natural follow-up on their relationship, that, for no particular reason, Ren would suddenly be in her house one day, sitting in the makeshift kitchen and waiting for Yasha to come out and say hello. And today seems to be that day.

What a time to be alive.)

Ren?

(Yasha is half-asleep still. Honestly, it's a good thing Ren decided to wait here, and that Yasha wasn't conked out in Mollymauk's bed upon discovery because theirs is the sort of relationship she has problems expressing to other people.)

Why– how did you get in here?

(The door was locked, Ren.)

[catpiper]

[Locked doors are just looting hard mode and she's surpassed that level during her time here. If there's a hole, she'll find her way in, just like any other rat or mouse. The point is, it's a mystery that'll never be solved.]

I found a way in.

[She better check the structure of her home because there's probably a Ren shaped outline somewhere. Tragic.]

Are you awake now? Can I help you paint your face?

[barberian]

Hmm.

(Honestly, without Caleb here to draw his pretty little string about the place they choose to lay their heads, the security around here has become pretty lax. Mostly because Yasha makes for one hell of a guard dog if anybody gets in during the night. Not that any of this applies to Ren, however, even as Yasha makes a mental note to check the place later for any Ren-holes.)

I'm mostly awake. (More so, now that Ren has mentioned painting her face. Yasha rubs her eye.)

... You were serious. About painting it, I mean.

[catpiper]

Yes. It's very important to you, so I want to help you do that kind of thing.

[It's the whole reason she wormed herself into the room, probably literally, because locked doors are the bane of her existence. She doesn't have anything on her outside of some more traditional paints that she's more than willing to use-ones she stacks in front of her as if plotting to use them. Muffet made them, so they're probably nontoxic.]

I can draw lines very straight now. I practiced.

[barberian]

Okay.

(Hard to argue with that. Yasha's touched, and her gaze has softened exponentially.) I suppose we should put you to the test, then.

(But not with what Ren's brought along. She scrubs a hand up into her hair for a moment, thinking, and then turns herself around a bit, heading for her room once more. She pauses in the doorway, and glances back.)

I'm going to go and get my paints and wash my face. Um... you can look in the cupboards for snacks, if you like.

(She's pretty sure Molly keeps his... substances in his room, so it should be fine. And if Beau hasn't hidden her snack stash by now, well, that's her fault.)