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[dunamantic]

ESSEK THELYSS OF CRITICAL ROLE, CREATED BY MATT MERCER.
TEXT // VOICE // VIDEO // ACTION // MEME OVERFLOW // OOC // WHATEVER
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[dunamantic]

the part of essek that sits on the surface knows he should be very concerned that this person, that molly, knows where he works, lives, and likely anything else there is to know about essek. sure, if he's a friend of the nein, then he likely has little to be concerned about, but there's still a wall, the high, thick wall he's spent over a century curating.

the part of essek that lurks a little deeper knows that he's been in this body for a long while, in this life just as long, and he has yet to ever indulge himself in the company of another just for the fun of it. just to blow off steam. and truly, if the dynasty were to catch word of his activities regarding the empire, well.

he might not get a shot at another life.

that thought had been the one to push him over the edge, to allow him to throw caution to the wind and take the tiefling up on his offer. that doesn't mean he isn't nervous, though-- it's with a deep breath and an attempt to calm his nerves that he allows himself through the gates of the lucid bastion. as predicted, molly can be spotted not far from his home, and essek wills himself to relax. this is for fun.

"kept true to your word, i see."

[devilstongue]

Molly looks quite amused as the watches the floating wizard, tail wishing lazily behind him. How he's gotten in here is a real mystery, but Ghostslayer Bloodhunters have their ways. It doesn't seem like he's alerted any guards despite his ostentatious clothing and shiny jewelry, and he moves closer to Essek without fear (or reverence).

"Shadowhand. How lovely to see you." The tiefling purrs, leaning closer. Elves are usually on the short side, but the floating weighs that up and he's more than amused to be on equal level with this powerful, gorgeous man.

Definitely worth dragging his ass out of a grave for the second time.

sorry for the delay, work is awful

[dunamantic]

essek takes note of how molly conducts himself, though such a thing is second nature to him. years of discipline and serving in a court has lead to such a keen eye, sizing molly up the moment he meets him. and yet, of it all, the most he knows about him for certain is that he is absolutely friends with the nein. they seem to take great care of misfits.

despite molly not showing the reverence typically held for the shadowhand, essek doesn't intend on returning such behavior, treating molly instead as an honored guest, which he is. a thin hand reaches to take molly's, and essek lowers into a bow to place a kiss to the back of his hand.

"the honor is mine, i assure you. please, come inside. i'm afraid i don't have much for the palette that isn't xhorhasian, if i can interest you in refreshments."

he pauses, then turns to lead molly to his door.

"unless you'd rather get to the point."

for sasskier

[dunamantic]

"and so it will be, shadowhand."

"your majesty?"

"if you so desire this human be free of our halls, then he shall be your responsibility. see to it that he remains out of trouble. do not allow him leave of our dynasty."

"your grace, i--"

"is there an issue, shadowhand thelyss?"

the bright queen's voice pierces the silence of her court and leaves a weight so heavy on his shoulders that he fears he might disappear. there is a problem, actually, and that's that he's too busy to deal with a fucking court jester at his own damn home.

"no, your majesty."

"good. let's move on."

and so here stands one essek thelyss, one shadowhand left to bring a bard back to his abode as though he were some pet, and maybe somewhere deep down, bright queen kryn thought that to be exactly what jaskier is. maybe not, but if that isn't the case, then she has some sick sense of humor. essek is loathe to bring him back to his home, having been alone for most of his one hundred and twenty years in wildemount, and the idea of not only having a roommate, but a very chatty and cheery and loud one, is...

it's terrible.

"this is your room," essek declares, flicking his wrist to cast a ball of light to the center of the unused guest bedroom. dust coats the walls and the furniture, but it's nothing another spell can't fix. "decorate it as you see fit. meet me for dinner downstairs in an hour, bard, we have rules we must discuss. i cannot allow you run of the place as though it were your own. understood?"

he returns his arms underneath his cloak, which drapes over his shoulders from the mantle he wears. essek's posture is upright and guarded, stiff, unsure. how can he be relaxed? he's got fucking live-in entertainment, now.