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related to this post, where the Mighty Nein organise Essek’s fake funerals
https://anne-o-nyme.tumblr.com/post/659298258508726272/anne-o-nyme-i-dont-know-if-anyone-else-had
Essek’s death had to be believable. It was paramount to his ability to remain connected to the Mighty Nein (even if disguises would be necessary) for he did not wish to put them in continued danger with his presence but they were at risk as long as the Dynasty’s gaze remained fixed on hunting him down. So it was that the Mighty Nein were soon happily planning a great scheme of theatrics, sending messages back and forth, and ultimately coming together in the Blooming Grove for a family meeting on the matter. Kingsley had stalwartly refused to support the usurping of his position as “handsome, ‘you should be dead’ purple man” of the group so he remained upon the Nein Heroez, getting further acquainted with crew. Jester was drawing out plans while the others offered their contributions.
“Should we throw him a funeral too?” Yasha asked.
Veth immediately interjected, excited to stir the pot, “Oh I see, so when you thought all of us might be dead, you couldn’t be bothered, but when Essek dies you’re happy to throw a funeral. I get it. I see where we all stand.”
Yasha’s brows knit together in confusion.
“No Veth… I mean you were the one who taught me funerals were important… I thought.”
Veth immediately softened at the gentle giant’s sincerity and placed an arm on her forearm.
“Okay. As long as you’ve learned your lesson.” she said softly to assure Yasha she was not mad but still stalwartly refusing to give up the bit. The rest of the Mighty Nein were holding back laughter.
“You know it’s not a bad idea,” Fjord added “it would make it more believable if we’re seen to be, like, visibly grieving. Do the Kryn have funerals, Essek?” Essek snapped to attention, upon hearing his name. He had been rather distracted admiring the way the breeze was blowing through Caleb’s long, ginger hair. It felt oddly intimate to see someone with their hair flowing free for the wind to play with, no styling whatsoever, but then, Essek supposed that was simply a marker of his upbringing in a culture where no one would ever be willing to appear disheveled in the slightest. He attempted to recall what had been said but it was no use.
“My apologies, what was that?”
Beau rolled her eyes.
“Oh god. He’s absolutely useless lately. Hey! Lovesick weirdo! We are trying to make a plan to save your life so you might want to tune in.” Beau knocked on his head as if checking to make sure it wasn’t hollow. Essek, though his expressive ears seemed to pull back in embarrassment, turned to her with the blankest of expressions, practiced from many years of maintaining composure for the sole purpose of annoying a younger sibling.
“I apologize, I was busy theorizing about what may have happened in the dynasty during my absence and while attempting to unravel the incredibly complex web of political intricacies, I happened to miss what was said.” his scathing tone didn’t have the slightest effect on Beau.
“Yo guys, new nickname for Caleb: political intricacies.”
The Mighty Nein exploded into laughter, chortling at the quip.
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