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A/N: Scrapped scene from my High Isle chapters. But I still like it so on my blog it goes.

Sielaire’s arrival in the parlour is quiet - the soft clicks of a door opened and shut, the thud of boots turning muffled as they tread from marble to carpet. Even her greeting is silent; she stations herself at a respectful distance from Ayrenn, bows with a fist over her heart, and shifts smoothly into parade rest.

Ayrenn’s lips twitch in secret amusement. She returns the favour, examining herself in the mirror while the royal tailor waits expectantly. She knows the reason for Sielaire’s visit, but doesn’t acknowledge it yet.

Adjusting the high collar about her neck, Ayrenn turns to the battlereeve, spreading her arms to display the robes designed for the upcoming peace talks. “What do you think?”

“Brown does not flatter you,” Sielaire replies. Her bluntness provokes a quickly-smothered gasp from the tailor. “But you carry it well.”

“Do I, or does your smitten heart drive you to lie?” Ayrenn smirks when Sielaire sighs and glances at the tailor, who stares determinedly at the floor in feigned ignorance.

“My heart is not smitten, but troubled, Your Majesty.”

The subtle emphasis on her title makes it clear that Sielaire’s patience for her game is over. Ayrenn gestures at the tailor, who makes a quick exit from the parlour, far too aware of tension thickening between them.

“You are sending me to the Systres ahead of you. Why?” It is as much an accusation as it is a question.

“I’d have thought it obvious. To secure our base of operations and ensure the integrity of the peace talks.”

“You have plenty of agents who are equally capable of that task. I do not see why you have to send me, personally, to do so.”

“You know my exact requirements and preferences better than anyone else.”

“Razum-dar or Cariel know them as well-”

“And I need someone with an established reputation in the Alliance War,” Ayrenn adds, steely tone allowing no protest while she speaks. “You have a certain...infamy among the enemy ranks, and your power is one they will respect - even if they do so grudgingly. When they see you working for the peace talks, it is a statement. That the Aldmeri Dominion is committed to forging peace with the other alliances.”

“I am not the only soldier known to them. The Grand Warlord is-”

“Sielaire,” Ayrenn interjects firmly. “My decision is made.”

“My place is with you.”

“Your heart is with me, just as mine is with you, always. But your place is where I need you most, Battlereeve.”

Sielaire’s jaw clenches visibly at the reminder - of her station, of her sworn duty to the queen. Though Ayrenn knows the battlereeve will bow to her command regardless, she steps forward, grasping her arms gently.

“You are more than just a bodyguard, Sie. You are a soldier, a commander. And you will do more good in the Systres than you will idling by my side, waiting for the peace talks. Besides, what is there to fend me from on a weeks-long voyage?” Ayrenn teases with a smile. “Seasickness, cramped quarters, day after day of hardtack and fish?”

Sielaire’s eyes tilt towards the ceiling, but she relaxes in Ayrenn’s hold, allowing herself to be pulled close.

“Will you do this for me, beloved?”

“There is nothing I would not do,” Sielaire whispers against her lips, as they meet in a soft kiss.

Though Sielaire’s gaze still harbours a distinct stroke of reluctance, Ayrenn is satisfied with the resolve that anchors it. She lets go of Sielaire, moving back to the mirror.

“This is not brown, by the way. Alwin calls it an ‘earthy gold’.” She mimics Alwinarwe’s haughty enunciation, and Sielaire breaks into a lopsided smile.

“She can call it whatever she wants, it’s still brown. A pale brown. Or yellow, at best.”

“Oh, she was so insistent, I let her have her way.” Ayrenn waves dismissively. “She wanted me to appear ‘not-too-rich’ and approachable to the ‘mundane races’. You could say she wants me to look...down-to-earth.”

Sielaire rolls her eyes. “Ugh, the Systres seem more inviting now.”

“Excellent. Before you go, Battlereeve.” Ayrenn meets Sielaire’s gaze in the mirror, a smirk arching her lips. “Help me out of these robes, won’t you?”

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having ocs is so fucked .... i miss them so bad but im the guy who has to create new content. but im sleepy

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games where they have different art style for male and female characters where the men are photorealistic and the women look like smooth porcelain dolls. sorry i was watching the resident evil 9 trailer

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The funniest person I know

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Just drow things; the tamer side of drow parties. "Charhylniss." (From "Menzoberranzan, City of Intrigue.")

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i didn’t try to see anything, now this is the price for my weakness [lyric translation]

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“who would do that” i mutter as i write my character doing that

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VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE – BLOODLINES (2004) dev. Troika Games

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the story so far:

mar 2019: sequel to beloved 2004 rpg vampire the masquerade: bloodlines is announced. the team includes brian mitsoda, the writer for the original game, and rik schaffer, the composer. june 2020: damsel returns! :) july 2020: brian mitsoda is fired abruptly and without explanation, after working on the sequel to his game for five years, and being touted by paradox as a show pony despite his discomfort with public appearances. he is replaced by an expert in addictive video game rewards systems. fans cancel their preorders. feb 2021: paradox silently hands the game off to a different studio, before laying off the original team at hardsuit labs. 2022: sep 2023: the chinese room has taken over the project. new trailer is unrecognizable. all characters shown in the original trailer were scrapped... oct 2023: ...as well as the original plot and gameplay. instead of a fully customizable newly-embraced thinblood character, you now play as an elder named phyre. aug 2024: the game is delayed again. aug 2025: official release date reveal gameplay trailer! :) four playable clans in the base game (compared to seven in the original bloodlines.) you pay $90 to make phyre a toreador.

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if a demon possessed me I’d just b like ok take it from here good luck man

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you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

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Magneto was Right, X-Men: The Last Stand

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when the party's cleric keeps talking about the darkness as if she knows it like you do but you can't tell her to stfu cos she's your only healer and also kinda pretty and you're gay and wanna kiss her again

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feelin a bit rusty with drawing bubbline but here they are once againnnn

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I've been playing Death's Door and I love playing as a little crow.

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