[ Molly had been anxious to leave since they found the Gentleman's lair, stumbling into a past he wants nothing to do with yet found him all the same. Ever since the urge to run had been crawling underneath his skin, scratching away for every second they spent in the city. The relief he felt when they finally, finally, agreed to leave was overwhelming. The further away they get from Zadash, from the looming war, from the creeping uncertainty brought forth by Cree, the damn better.
His mood, though seemingly unchanged to the casual observers, improved incredibly since leaving. Tension melting away the further they traveled. It gave Molly a chance to pay closer attention to his companions, to the joy in Jester, the tension in Caleb, the twitch in Nott's fingers telling him the itch is back. None of his business really, any of it, but he keeps notes, mostly for the sake of keeping notes.
If only boredom was kinda enough to leave well alone.
A nimble hand fans out his cards, face down, as Caleb approaches. Red eyes watching with an almost unreadable look. He's curious, of course, about so many things about their resident wizard. A part of him would love to prod, but won't, nothing ever good comes from prodding things better left alone. ]
Nonsense, everyone needs their fortune told at least once.
[ It is more for his own amusement than anything, something to pass the time of their watch. Molly reaches up, taking the wine skin from Caleb's grip, abandoning his cards for a mere moment as he indulges his thirst. ]
[ There's nothing requiring Caleb to sit here beside Molly and watch him fuss with his cards. Caleb could serve out the rest of his turn on watch perched on the cart with his book open in his lap. It wouldn't be the first night he spent cold, transcribing with frozen fingers. But Caleb realizes that he misses company. He'd been a little starved for it, even with long months spent on the road with Nott. He likes their expanded little circle, even if he can't stop worrying over what he's told Beau.
There's a giddy relief in his chest over having finally spoken those truths aloud, but it's slowly giving way to the inevitable worry: what if Beau thinks it over, and what if she shares what she knows?
It's not wholly separate from the fan of Molly's deck between nimble fingers. What was Molly capable of picking out of thin air with the aid of a few tarot cards? Caleb watches him drink, eyes noting the lines of his throat and the gleam of jewelry from his horns before his gaze skitters away and falls to his own hands. ]
He did. [ Or Nott had said so, and Caleb trusts her judgement on all things alcohol. ] Is it bullshit? Your fortune-telling?
[ Caleb is careful with questions. He's aware that often people expect something in return for any of the things they share. It feels reckless every time he solicits information from any of the others, apart from Nott. ]
[ As far as Molly can remember he has had company, ever since digging himself from his own grave and being picked up by the circus. He doesn't want to imagine what it would be like without them, without the company of fellows, especially these ones. It's funny how much he found himself liking their company, how easily he gravitated towards them after the circus fell to pieces. A group of weirdos and broken toys.
Something he should talk to Yasha about, he muses, enjoying the sharp aftertaste of the wine, gaze flick towards Caleb. ]
Maybe, maybe not. [ Molly shrugs, flippant. Taking another quick drink from the wineskin before holding it out to Caleb, grin wide across his lavender face. ] Want to find out?
[ Caleb could just say no, resist the thread Molly hangs in front of him, and that will be the end of that. But what else are they going to do for the next few hours? There is only so much watching and listening to the surroundings one can do before boredom takes hold. ]
[ It's a little like the moments when he indulges Nott or Jester, Caleb thinks. He isn't sure if he'll enjoy having his fortune told, but he thinks Molly will enjoy telling him. Or Molly will probably enjoy making a production out of the cards and whatever outlandish things he can come up with.
Remembering Molly and Yasha tripping into that tavern a few weeks ago feels surreal now. They've gotten comfortable enough with each other that Caleb finds it hard to remember what it was like before. Maybe Nott had been like this too, a stranger until very abruptly she wasn't. It's not as troubling to Caleb as he thought it would be, though so much companionship doesn't always feel so ideal. He pulls his coat close around himself as Frumpkin catapults onto his shoulders and nestles in against his neck. ]
Let's see.
[ Uncertain about whether or not he'll regret this, Caleb decides he'd rather go along than retreat to the other side of the fire with his book. ]
[ It's telling to Molly that Caleb hasn't absconded across the camp with his books, that he stays indulging Molly's need for an audience. A few weeks ago he would have skitter away at the earliest opportunity, head buried in a book, resistant to the attention Molly gives him. It's... interesting, he thinks, gathering his cards with a single sweeping motion.
Oh, he puts on such a display, shuffling the cards with nimble fingers, as red eyes stay trained on Caleb's face. It shows how much he has done this before, the way he manipulates the cards, feeding them into each other in every different way. Once done the deck sits in Mollymauk's hand, face down, and his grin widening. ]
Let's see, let's see, what the cards have in store.
[ Molly pulls forth the first, laying it face up on the scarf before him. Lips purse together as he regards it, as though the picture on top is like to tell him the secrets of the universe. ]
Ah, the Tower. Looks like they think you have suffered a great tragedy and upheaval.
[ He's being a little dramatic, but it isn't hard to assume something terrible happened in Caleb's past. He has that look about it. ]
[ Caleb and Nott have turned their fair share of tricks. He thinks about Molly's quick, clever fingers and wonders about the possibility of Molly shifting cards to the top of the deck. Or he's just good at making things up as he goes. Caleb's hardly familiar enough with the tarot to object.
Though the first card is a bit—
It's too close to truth for Caleb to be comfortable with it. His jaw tightens, and he's very still for a moment. Is it such a stretch to confirm? Caleb knows his breaks and traumas are so very near the surface. They had all seen him in the mine, frozen in place by his own memories. The substance may be a secret (shared among two of their number) but no one would be surprised by it's existence.
Slowly, Caleb gives a jerky nod of assent. Acknowledgement of the card without any further elaboration is the best he can do. ]
What else do they think?
[ Or more honestly: what else does Molly think of him? ]
[ In truth he could be doing just that, using his quick, clever fingers to shift the cards to his liking. Molly won't confirm nor deny it either way, better to keep them guessing to unveil every single one of his tricks.
He watches Caleb's expression, the tightening of his jaw, a tell of how very right he was. It wasn't a hard assumption to make, Molly saw him in the mines, frozen in front of a burning man. That day he had kissed Caleb's forehead and told him they'd have time for that later, urged him up onto his feet once again. Did later ever come?
Once again, Molly pulls a card from the deck, laying it face up on the scarf beside first. The Death card. ]
They think you're beginning something new, that there is a change in you or what surrounds you. You joined a group of weirdos who will take on the adventure of your lifetime.
[ For a moment he seems to ponder that card, head tilted to the side before he pulls the third. It's then that wide grin spreads across his features, laying down the card face up for Caleb to see. The Lover's card. ]
And you're going to find something terribly exciting with them. Something irreplaceable.
[ There will never be a later. Caleb can't imagine there will ever be a good time to fall apart, and he doesn't mind that so much. He lost ten years to being broken apart. As fractured and guilt-soaked as his mind is now, he needs to stay functioning. His goal is a distant end-point dragging him forward. For a time there had only been that, before Nott had arrived, and then these others, this little group, had crowded into the picture.
Considering all of that, maybe Molly's cards are right. Caleb's face doesn't brighten to match Molly's expression. His chest is tight. All his sins bear down on him, bowing his shoulders as he taps a finger hesitantly at the edge of the third card. The Lover's card, carrying the promise of something so precious.
Something undeserved. ]
That is...hopeful.
[ There's so little to be said. Caleb's secrets lurk in the back of his throat, blotting out so many other responses. ]
We will have to wait to see if it's true. It could be some time before I find out if you're making it all up or not.
[ Caleb doesn't look at Molly's face as he speaks. He has a sudden, foolish urge to take the card for himself, as if it would be a talisman and conjure the future Molly had implied into reality.
But he doesn't. His fingers catch at the folds of the soft cloth, then jostle the cards as he pulls back. ]
[ Of all in their little group, Caleb looks the most in need of something hopeful. A light, like his little dancing ones, to light the darkness from time to time. And Molly... Well, he finds himself in something of a sentimental mood, kindness flowing freely in the dark of the night, free of the prying eyes of their fellows. Just a glimmer, just for a little while. ]
Fortune-telling isn't a instant-gratification art unfortunately. But I have a few other tricks up my sleeves that are.
[ Molly watches him, as he has even since Caleb sat down with him, collecting the cards from their resting place. He hesitates on the Lovers, lifting it up in front of his face, idly spinning it about his fingers. It would be nice, wouldn't it? If he was right. Words more than dressed up pleasantries to make people feel good for a little while. He would really like that, he thinks, very much so.
The tiefling chuckles, red gaze flicking to Caleb's face. ]
[ Kindness doesn't sit well with Caleb, who still can't believe himself deserving of it. He can hardly bear Nott's affections. He's less certain of what to do with Molly, though at least with Molly he has the idea that it's not really about Caleb. They're a self-serving bunch. That buffer is one of the few things that makes all of this bearable for Caleb. As much as he wants to be part of this group, he doesn't know how to shake the idea that he shouldn't be here to begin with.
It's a work in progress, like just about everything else the Mighty Nein are. ]
Maybe you can show me.
[ Whatever else Molly had up his sleeve wouldn't be magic. Maybe the cards are and maybe they aren't, but Caleb envisions anything else Molly had in his arsenal to be slight of hand. He extends his own, begging back the wine skin. ]
Will you pull a copper from behind my ear?
[ Yet another thing easier for Caleb to take in stride than the idea that he may someday be happy. ]
[ It is as much not about Caleb as it is. Something terribly sentimental in Molly keeps creeping up with him, the urge to do something to make the other man laugh or smile. A man like that can't be so dour all the time, it can't be healthy. Somewhere along the line, since attached himself to this group of self-serving bunch of weirdos, he decided to just that. Put cracks in that depressing exterior of Caleb's, for no other reason than he can.
Molly is weird like that, weird and sentimental and kind in his own way. ]
Maybe I can.
[ He is certain that Caleb's mind isn't on the same track as his own, even so a grin creeps along his lips as the cards as put away into a pocket of his elaborate coat. The wine skin he takes, drinking some more, before handing it back over. There is so many things he could do in this moment, things that would likely make the wizard turn tail and run face red as the color of Molly's eyes.
Truthfully it is tempting, if anything to see the expression upon his face and the way Caleb is so very likely to squirm. A man like him? Oh, he flusters easily. ]
A copper? [ Molly hums to himself before his eyes widen and he leans forward, shifting until he trespasses into Caleb's space. ] Oh? What's this?
[ Molly doesn't stop until he is uncomfortably up in Caleb's space, hovering close enough he can almost feel the puff of warm breath against his lavender skin. A compromise of sorts. Tilting his head he reaches behind Caleb's ear ( slight of hand: 19 ), fingers threading through messy hair. The hand lingers longer than it should, Molly lingers longer than he should, before pulling back copper piece held between his thumb and finger. ]
What do you know? A copper piece. How did on earth did it get behind your ear?
[ They've been this close before, is Caleb's first, frantic thought. But the memory of the gnoll mine is blurred; Molly's lips on his forehead had been like a punctuation on the end of a nightmare, pinning Caleb back to the present as much as the sharp crack of Molly's palm on his cheek had been. The second time Molly had pinned him had been almost easier to manage. The intent had been very clear; Caleb could deal with calmly stated threats better than he could tenderness.
Or flirtation, as it turns out. Caleb can't tell if Molly means this moment personally or if it's sport, or if Molly just flirts as easily as he breathes and can't miss the opportunity even if it's Caleb on the receiving end. (Because who could want him? Why would anyone want him?) But Molly gets what he's after: Caleb flushes, freezing in place over the strangeness of gentle fingers in his hair and Molly's amused expression. ]
Very good.
[ Caleb's voice sounds strangled. ]
I didn't even see you put it there. Clever.
[ Ruining the illusion outright, but Caleb awkwardly can't do anything else. He can't even manage eye contact at the moment. The sensation of Molly's fingers in his hair lingers. Caleb lifts a nervous hand to smooth over his hair, as if something's been left out of place. ]
Did you learn to pick pockets like that as well?
[ As far as Caleb's concerned, it's a slippery slope from slight of hand with a coin to lifting an entire coin purse. And it's also the best redirect of the conversation he can think of, because Caleb certainly doesn't want Molly's attention settling on his own reaction to Molly's trick. ]
[ Molly enjoys this more than he should, watching the gears start to turn inside of Caleb's head and the redness rush up into his cheeks. He squeezes the copper between his fingers, lips curved into a devious grin, amusement blatantly evident. He likes this, Caleb flustered expression, voice strangled as he tries to process Molly's actions.
That awkwardness - the way he can't manage eye contact, the nervous hand reaching up to smooth over his hair, Mollymauk can't help but find it incredibly endearing. ]
I am quite clever, aren't I?
[ A flick of the wrist, the coin spins in the air before Molly catches it. Fingers close tightly around the small, warm metal, pocketing as he tilts his head - a lazy attempt to catch Caleb's gaze. ]
I picked up a few things with the circus.
[ More than a few, in truth. If it wasn't for the circus he wouldn't be the person he is now, he wouldn't be Mollymauk. ]
And I happen to have very talented hands. [ The grin widens, flashing teeth, red eyes practically twinkling. ] Or so I'm told.
[ Molly is...something. Caleb doesn't know the right words for the flamboyant show of Molly's presence. But he does know that Molly at least has a particular gift for avoiding making Caleb feel as if he is being laughed at. Molly's enjoyment is so transparent and so open; it's colored with unspoken invitation. Even if Caleb can't quite manage to partake, he appreciates that in Molly. ]
And so humble.
[ Caleb's tone is dry, but somehow faintly, embarrassingly fond. ]
Do you care to tell me what else you picked up?
[ The question isn't exactly fair. Caleb isn't about to share any of the things he's picked up on the road. He and Nott have a fair number of tricks up their sleeve, but they've yet to let their companions in on them. They should, one of these days. Caleb knows they're well past the point where they may have had to use their usual plans to scuttle away from their traveling companions, but something in him demands they keep holding back. It's hard to put all his trust into this arrangement, when it would be so easy for him to make a mess of it. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
welcome home
His mood, though seemingly unchanged to the casual observers, improved incredibly since leaving. Tension melting away the further they traveled. It gave Molly a chance to pay closer attention to his companions, to the joy in Jester, the tension in Caleb, the twitch in Nott's fingers telling him the itch is back. None of his business really, any of it, but he keeps notes, mostly for the sake of keeping notes.
If only boredom was kinda enough to leave well alone.
A nimble hand fans out his cards, face down, as Caleb approaches. Red eyes watching with an almost unreadable look. He's curious, of course, about so many things about their resident wizard. A part of him would love to prod, but won't, nothing ever good comes from prodding things better left alone. ]
Nonsense, everyone needs their fortune told at least once.
[ It is more for his own amusement than anything, something to pass the time of their watch. Molly reaches up, taking the wine skin from Caleb's grip, abandoning his cards for a mere moment as he indulges his thirst. ]
Hmm, decent. Fjord picked a good one.
stretches out casually
There's a giddy relief in his chest over having finally spoken those truths aloud, but it's slowly giving way to the inevitable worry: what if Beau thinks it over, and what if she shares what she knows?
It's not wholly separate from the fan of Molly's deck between nimble fingers. What was Molly capable of picking out of thin air with the aid of a few tarot cards? Caleb watches him drink, eyes noting the lines of his throat and the gleam of jewelry from his horns before his gaze skitters away and falls to his own hands. ]
He did. [ Or Nott had said so, and Caleb trusts her judgement on all things alcohol. ] Is it bullshit? Your fortune-telling?
[ Caleb is careful with questions. He's aware that often people expect something in return for any of the things they share. It feels reckless every time he solicits information from any of the others, apart from Nott. ]
makes you a comfy spot
Something he should talk to Yasha about, he muses, enjoying the sharp aftertaste of the wine, gaze flick towards Caleb. ]
Maybe, maybe not. [ Molly shrugs, flippant. Taking another quick drink from the wineskin before holding it out to Caleb, grin wide across his lavender face. ] Want to find out?
[ Caleb could just say no, resist the thread Molly hangs in front of him, and that will be the end of that. But what else are they going to do for the next few hours? There is only so much watching and listening to the surroundings one can do before boredom takes hold. ]
no subject
Remembering Molly and Yasha tripping into that tavern a few weeks ago feels surreal now. They've gotten comfortable enough with each other that Caleb finds it hard to remember what it was like before. Maybe Nott had been like this too, a stranger until very abruptly she wasn't. It's not as troubling to Caleb as he thought it would be, though so much companionship doesn't always feel so ideal. He pulls his coat close around himself as Frumpkin catapults onto his shoulders and nestles in against his neck. ]
Let's see.
[ Uncertain about whether or not he'll regret this, Caleb decides he'd rather go along than retreat to the other side of the fire with his book. ]
no subject
Oh, he puts on such a display, shuffling the cards with nimble fingers, as red eyes stay trained on Caleb's face. It shows how much he has done this before, the way he manipulates the cards, feeding them into each other in every different way. Once done the deck sits in Mollymauk's hand, face down, and his grin widening. ]
Let's see, let's see, what the cards have in store.
[ Molly pulls forth the first, laying it face up on the scarf before him. Lips purse together as he regards it, as though the picture on top is like to tell him the secrets of the universe. ]
Ah, the Tower. Looks like they think you have suffered a great tragedy and upheaval.
[ He's being a little dramatic, but it isn't hard to assume something terrible happened in Caleb's past. He has that look about it. ]
no subject
Though the first card is a bit—
It's too close to truth for Caleb to be comfortable with it. His jaw tightens, and he's very still for a moment. Is it such a stretch to confirm? Caleb knows his breaks and traumas are so very near the surface. They had all seen him in the mine, frozen in place by his own memories. The substance may be a secret (shared among two of their number) but no one would be surprised by it's existence.
Slowly, Caleb gives a jerky nod of assent. Acknowledgement of the card without any further elaboration is the best he can do. ]
What else do they think?
[ Or more honestly: what else does Molly think of him? ]
no subject
He watches Caleb's expression, the tightening of his jaw, a tell of how very right he was. It wasn't a hard assumption to make, Molly saw him in the mines, frozen in front of a burning man. That day he had kissed Caleb's forehead and told him they'd have time for that later, urged him up onto his feet once again. Did later ever come?
Once again, Molly pulls a card from the deck, laying it face up on the scarf beside first. The Death card. ]
They think you're beginning something new, that there is a change in you or what surrounds you. You joined a group of weirdos who will take on the adventure of your lifetime.
[ For a moment he seems to ponder that card, head tilted to the side before he pulls the third. It's then that wide grin spreads across his features, laying down the card face up for Caleb to see. The Lover's card. ]
And you're going to find something terribly exciting with them. Something irreplaceable.
no subject
Considering all of that, maybe Molly's cards are right. Caleb's face doesn't brighten to match Molly's expression. His chest is tight. All his sins bear down on him, bowing his shoulders as he taps a finger hesitantly at the edge of the third card. The Lover's card, carrying the promise of something so precious.
Something undeserved. ]
That is...hopeful.
[ There's so little to be said. Caleb's secrets lurk in the back of his throat, blotting out so many other responses. ]
We will have to wait to see if it's true. It could be some time before I find out if you're making it all up or not.
[ Caleb doesn't look at Molly's face as he speaks. He has a sudden, foolish urge to take the card for himself, as if it would be a talisman and conjure the future Molly had implied into reality.
But he doesn't. His fingers catch at the folds of the soft cloth, then jostle the cards as he pulls back. ]
Convenient for you, ja?
no subject
Fortune-telling isn't a instant-gratification art unfortunately. But I have a few other tricks up my sleeves that are.
[ Molly watches him, as he has even since Caleb sat down with him, collecting the cards from their resting place. He hesitates on the Lovers, lifting it up in front of his face, idly spinning it about his fingers. It would be nice, wouldn't it? If he was right. Words more than dressed up pleasantries to make people feel good for a little while. He would really like that, he thinks, very much so.
The tiefling chuckles, red gaze flicking to Caleb's face. ]
Incredibly convenient.
no subject
It's a work in progress, like just about everything else the Mighty Nein are. ]
Maybe you can show me.
[ Whatever else Molly had up his sleeve wouldn't be magic. Maybe the cards are and maybe they aren't, but Caleb envisions anything else Molly had in his arsenal to be slight of hand. He extends his own, begging back the wine skin. ]
Will you pull a copper from behind my ear?
[ Yet another thing easier for Caleb to take in stride than the idea that he may someday be happy. ]
no subject
Molly is weird like that, weird and sentimental and kind in his own way. ]
Maybe I can.
[ He is certain that Caleb's mind isn't on the same track as his own, even so a grin creeps along his lips as the cards as put away into a pocket of his elaborate coat. The wine skin he takes, drinking some more, before handing it back over. There is so many things he could do in this moment, things that would likely make the wizard turn tail and run face red as the color of Molly's eyes.
Truthfully it is tempting, if anything to see the expression upon his face and the way Caleb is so very likely to squirm. A man like him? Oh, he flusters easily. ]
A copper? [ Molly hums to himself before his eyes widen and he leans forward, shifting until he trespasses into Caleb's space. ] Oh? What's this?
[ Molly doesn't stop until he is uncomfortably up in Caleb's space, hovering close enough he can almost feel the puff of warm breath against his lavender skin. A compromise of sorts. Tilting his head he reaches behind Caleb's ear ( slight of hand: 19 ), fingers threading through messy hair. The hand lingers longer than it should, Molly lingers longer than he should, before pulling back copper piece held between his thumb and finger. ]
What do you know? A copper piece. How did on earth did it get behind your ear?
no subject
Or flirtation, as it turns out. Caleb can't tell if Molly means this moment personally or if it's sport, or if Molly just flirts as easily as he breathes and can't miss the opportunity even if it's Caleb on the receiving end. (Because who could want him? Why would anyone want him?) But Molly gets what he's after: Caleb flushes, freezing in place over the strangeness of gentle fingers in his hair and Molly's amused expression. ]
Very good.
[ Caleb's voice sounds strangled. ]
I didn't even see you put it there. Clever.
[ Ruining the illusion outright, but Caleb awkwardly can't do anything else. He can't even manage eye contact at the moment. The sensation of Molly's fingers in his hair lingers. Caleb lifts a nervous hand to smooth over his hair, as if something's been left out of place. ]
Did you learn to pick pockets like that as well?
[ As far as Caleb's concerned, it's a slippery slope from slight of hand with a coin to lifting an entire coin purse. And it's also the best redirect of the conversation he can think of, because Caleb certainly doesn't want Molly's attention settling on his own reaction to Molly's trick. ]
no subject
That awkwardness - the way he can't manage eye contact, the nervous hand reaching up to smooth over his hair, Mollymauk can't help but find it incredibly endearing. ]
I am quite clever, aren't I?
[ A flick of the wrist, the coin spins in the air before Molly catches it. Fingers close tightly around the small, warm metal, pocketing as he tilts his head - a lazy attempt to catch Caleb's gaze. ]
I picked up a few things with the circus.
[ More than a few, in truth. If it wasn't for the circus he wouldn't be the person he is now, he wouldn't be Mollymauk. ]
And I happen to have very talented hands. [ The grin widens, flashing teeth, red eyes practically twinkling. ] Or so I'm told.
no subject
And so humble.
[ Caleb's tone is dry, but somehow faintly, embarrassingly fond. ]
Do you care to tell me what else you picked up?
[ The question isn't exactly fair. Caleb isn't about to share any of the things he's picked up on the road. He and Nott have a fair number of tricks up their sleeve, but they've yet to let their companions in on them. They should, one of these days. Caleb knows they're well past the point where they may have had to use their usual plans to scuttle away from their traveling companions, but something in him demands they keep holding back. It's hard to put all his trust into this arrangement, when it would be so easy for him to make a mess of it. ]