Chapter Text
Mollymauk treasured each and every change he made to his body. His body. Not the body of this ‘Lucien’ who he’d been recognized as. That was not him. Lucien may have shared the colour of his skin, the curl of his horns, the point of his teeth, but it was Mollymauk Tealeaf and only Mollymauk that owned this body, and he’d been sure to emphasize that fact with how he dressed it.
It started out small. Molly’s first memory included the stifling, crushing weight of dry dirt pressing down on his body. Unbearable pressure on every part of him, dirt in his lungs as he gasped for his first breath, loose earth in his eyes as they flew open for the first time. When he finally clawed his way out of the shallow grave, an activity that must have taken just over an hour but felt like it took two lifetimes-- not that he would know what even half a lifetime felt like-- he found himself wandering. Eventually, when he found his home in the carnival to distract himself from the memory of dirt pressing down on a body that doesn't feel like his own, Mollymauk Tealeaf buys something for the very first time.
The carnival stopped in a fairly big city and the crowds lining up to buy tickets was long enough that Gustav decided they would stay in town for a couple more days than they had planned. There had, in fact, been enough money made from the first three shows alone, that Mollymauk was given a small cut to buy himself something nice. He didn’t have his voice yet so he couldn’t do much for the travelling circus, but he’d been quick to learn some sword tricks, and he’d been helping out where he could. In new towns, he would trail behind one of his fellow carnies, handing out flyers while they did the verbal advertising. Gustav had even gifted him a well-used tarot deck that he had been memorizing every night when he couldn't sleep.
On their first night off, Orna and the Knott sisters dragged Molly out for a night on the town with their hard-earned money. Molly had spent the entire night grinning happily as he watched his new friends dance around a fountain in the centre of town, and try samples in the bakery. Eventually, the group came to a small clothing shop that was squished between a tavern and a brothel. No one was inside, save for the owner of the shop, a little old Halfling woman who was stitching a bright piece of fabric at the front of the shop. She smiled brightly at them as the four of them entered the shop. The Knott sisters went up to the old woman, asking her questions, but instead of following them, Molly found that he was rooted in place. On a mannequin in the corner of the store, almost hidden by a rack of cloaks, was a long colourful coat.
Mollymauk could feel his tail-- his tail!-- jerking excitedly behind him as he made his way over the coat. It was exquisite. There must have been a thousand patterns and colours and folds sewed delicately into the silky materials. Underneath the coat was a leather jerkin with its own brightly patterned collar attached. Mollymauk had never seen something that reminded him less of the dirt-- choking, crushing, stifling-- in the little life he could remember, which says something as his past months have been spent in a travelling carnival. A crackly, sweet voice from hip height reached his ears and he flicked his crimson eyes down, suddenly aware that his sharp teeth were visible through his smile.
“You know, dearie, I’ve had many people come into my shop through the years, but not one of them has admired this coat as you have.” She smiled up at him, and he was quietly made grateful by the fact that she didn’t flinch away from his appearance like other townspeople tended to. “I must say, this coat is some of my best work. The detail I put into it is unbelievable, but when people see it they only tell me that it’s far too loud to be worn by anyone. What’s made you so interested?”
His smile slipped slightly from his face as his eyes darted around the store, trying to find any of the women that he’d come in with. The woman had nodded, seemingly understanding his situation despite the fact that he couldn’t verbalize it.
“This old thing has been here for far too long with no one to love it. What say you I give you a discount. What do you have on you?”
The smile returned to Molly’s face. He proudly showed her the six silver he had been given from the circus, not really sure how much a coat normally costed. Nodding again, the halfling held out her hand. She tutted, however, when he tried to hand her the coins, patiently waiting until he gave her his empty hand. She led him over to the front counter where she held up an equally loudly patterned article of clothing.
“I’d say, if you take that coat of my hands for three silver I can throw in these pants for a discounted price of two silver. That is, if you’re interested. Would you like to try them on?” She asked. Her voice was creaky in a nice way that made him feel warm inside, and reminded him of a nice woman in a town a while back who had given him lemon flavoured tea "for his throat". He nodded, accepting her help in taking the coat off the mannequin, and hurried to change in one of the rooms at the back of the shop.
Upon emerging from the curtained off changing area, Mollymauk found the old woman holding a mirror that was even bigger than her, but she waved her hand when he tried to help her with it. There in the mirror stood a lavender tiefling with curling horns. His red eyes flitted across the reflective surface, drinking everything in. Somehow with just the addition of the colourful coat and the loudly patterned pants he felt better than he had in months. He stretched out his hand, brushing his fingertips along the silky material. This was not the same tiefling that spent the first hour of his waking life clawing dirt from above him and choking on the little oxygen he had surrounding him. His reflection showed a tiefling who was confident, who knew how to read tarot and juggle swords, who had found a family in a carnival.
He crouched so that he could be eye level with the shop owner and smiled in a way that he hoped could convey what he was feeling. She smiled softly back.
“You don’t need to thank me. I could tell you were looking for something...different”
Still. He blinked his watery eyes a couple of times, and turned his gaze to the floor.
“Thank you” He said slowly, in a stilted voice. The six silver he’d earned from the carnival slipped easily into the pocket of her trousers. She reached one of her hand up, one that wasn’t busy balancing the mirror and patted him on the top of his head.
Studying his new coat yet again he decided, this was the first time he had truly felt alive since waking up dead and he was going to chase this high for as long as it lasted.