Work Text:
Milo was calibrating some sort of voice box and had made them promise to be silent on threat of castration if they crashed there again this week, and even Annie had vacated the premises, so Ashton was inclined to take the request seriously. That didn’t hamper their fun much, though, and now that Fearne had learned how to use smoke to spell in the air it arguably made it funner. More fun? Fuck the grammar police.
Ashton—far more carefully than normal—placed his haul on the table. A pouch with twenty silver he’d gotten off a trolley operator, some jerky they couldn’t identify the provenance of, a button, a toy soldier, six wax seals he’d popped off of letters folks were carrying, and a few of Fearne’s ribbons. What have you got? they spelled out, taking a long drag as they prepared to see her haul.
Fearne kicked him under the table in excitement, eyes glimmering as she taunted them, one letter and one steal at a time.
Y. (A pair of purple earrings, one back missing)
O. (A metallic bow tie)
U. (A coin purse that looked full of something much smaller—beans, perhaps? Or pebbles?)
S. (A bracelet, clearly beaded by a child)
U. (A screwdriver)
C. (A pincushion)
K. (A thimble)
A. (A noblewoman’s pocket mirror)
N. (A square of sandpaper Ashton recognized from Milo’s workshop)
D. (A frankly disgusting, very used, clarinet reed)
I. (A pair of wax seals)
W. (A handful of buttons)
I. (A toy soldier)
N. (A couple of ribbons)
Hey, wait a minute. Ashton realized his side of the table was nearly empty, leaped across, and kissed her.
“Jester! Why would you even try that?!”
It hadn’t been a terribly difficult or long fight, so the sweat coating Fjord’s body was likely more from the pain of having been shoved directly into a line of literal fire by his fiancée rather than the effort of matching swords. Half of his outfit was burned onto him, which was not as fun as it looked on a romance cover.
“Yeah, even I’m curious.” Kingsley stuck his forked tongue out as he pulled his scimitar out of the nearest imp, sending it flying over the railing with impunity. “I know you hate healing.”
“It was not that bad, he has a ring of fire resistance, you guys!” Jester stuck her tongue right back at him. “If it doesn’t take like, five hundred times more damage, it still hasn’t payed for itself.”
Kingsley cocked his head. “I thought he gave the ring to you.”
“Well, he did, but then I gave it back because I have too much to attune to and also prettier rings.” She grinned. “And also! It’s useful! You’re already fire resistant, and I thought it might damage the deck less!”
“Ough.” Fjord angled his arm so he could try to tear the fabric up with his tusk, but he gave up when it didn’t seem to tear cleanly. “Jester, you suck so much.”
“But you looooove me!”
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I do.”
“So remember when I broke your rock?”
“You really do not have to keep bringing that up—”
“Well, I found you another pretty one.”
“Laudna, we’re running out of space on the windowsills.”
“We can put it—”
“And we definitely can’t put any more in the bath, I already step on them—”
“What about the—”
“If you’re going to say kitchen, I don’t want to get heavy metal poisoning.”
“Bedroom?”
“Laudna, if you want to keep more pretty rocks, they can go outside.”
“But Imogen—”
She was cut off by a kiss to the lips. Since there was currently a rock in her hand, Laudna didn’t push her away.
“It can go outside.”
Laudna pouted. “You suck.”
Imogen laughed. “Oh, I know. I suck so much for not letting you add an eight-hundredth pretty rock. Anyone else wouldn’t let you have eight dozen.”
“I love youuuuuu.”
Imogen rolled her eyes, and pointed to the windowsill. “Don’t I know it.”
Juniper had been crying for almost two minutes, now, and they were both playing chicken.
“Someone should get her,” Pike muttered groggily.
Scanlan really didn’t want to wake up. He was quite sore, to be honest, most of which was her work. “Nurse her back to bed. That’s your magic.”
“It’s too cold to get my tits out. Besides, it’s your turn.”
“No, I did her nap.”
“I did her nap yesterday and I put her to bed both days, so that means its your turn.”
“No, if she’s up already, that means you did a bad job at it. Should have tried some lullabies.”
“Oh, fuck you.” Pike sat up reluctantly, plunging them both into Whitestone chill. “You suck as a partner, you know that?”
He grinned lazily. “I suck a lot of things as your partner, actually. Clit, tits, slit…a few things that don’t have to rhyme with—”
He was cut off by a pillow to the head.
“You suck so much. You’re so lucky I love you.”
“There’s so many books, these days, what with the presses. They need the wood pulp to make them.”
Even as incorporeal as they are, Erathis can feel Melora bristle, roots scrunching up like toes hit by a drop of stray oil.
“Don’t worry, though, not even Ioun can win. You can take the tree from the forest, but you can’t take the apetite from the worms. I’m thinking of telling my clerics to keep all laws engraved in stone so horrible nature can’t eat them.”
The reply is primarily formed through shifts of the wind and irregular leaf fall patterns, but the meaning is obvious: You suck, but I still love you.
“YouUUuuu SuuuuccKKK DeeeeeiiiiicKKkssss.”
Veth could not for the life of her understand exactly why every accent Caleb attempted was at least 50% slower than his normal speech, but it really did add value for the marathon-thinker clock-brained wizard to take longer to get the words out than her now seven year old, and it kept Luc out of her way while she tried to clean the partially-exploded oven.
Luc, who was currently on Caleb’s lap, giggled profusely. “Now the other one! Say it like…say it like Auntie Jester!”
“I thought I was talking like Jester.”
“Oh. Right.” The halfling boy paused for a moment. “How about Uncle Cadeuceus?”
“YoooUUUuuuu SsssMmmeLLLll llleiiiikkkeee faaahhhhhhrrrttts.”
Veth couldn’t help but laugh a touch at that, since it was even slower. Caleb shot her a look of dissaproval, but his eyes were merry.
“You suck at that so much, you know,” she said, wiping her hands on a dish cloth.
“Well, yes,” he said sheepishly. “I think that is the point, ja? Why everyone asks for more?”