#Shadylex
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Commission for @shadylex ! They’re gossipin
-Do not reupload, edit, or use if not the client.-
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If you'd like, tell me your favorite parts about Eilwen or Elisere. Reading briefly about your snow elves and want to know about them!
aaaa thank you for the ask!! :D I will gladly talk about these two, Elisere is one of my favorite OCs
(quick tldr for them for those who don't know: Elisere is my dragonborn and Eilwen is her grandmother. They are altmer with snow elf ancestry. Eilwen is a professor of Skyrim history at a university in Firsthold, but does so as a means to study snow elf history (and the falmer) on the side. Both are very proud and invested in the culture and history of the snow elves)
It's kinda hard to say what my favorite parts of them necessarily are, but I can say what's been on my mind a lot with them recently (for both)!
For Eilwen first: I try to keep her passionate, but pragmatic. Like, she's deeply invested in studying the falmer and snow elves, but she knows that if she were super upfront and openly passionate about it, especially at work, at best she wouldn't be taken seriously and lose her job, and at worst she would get in trouble with the Thalmor. So she plays nice, shuts up, and does her job well and to the propagandistic standards requied of her so she can have the support and means to pursue the research that actually matters to her. Poor Elisere is the exact opposite of that, and Eilwen always worried it was going to bite her in the ass some day.
For Elisere: I want her to be super pathetic (at first). Just the most pitifully unlikable woman on Tamriel. She arrives to Skyrim thinking of it as some rural shithole full of dumb humans that don't even know what magic is, just to constantly be shown up in nearly every circumstance. She's a powerful mage, but being a good mage does not make her good at fighting, or survival in the wild, or navigation, or social relationships, and throwing elemental blast at everything causes more problems than solves them. She's abrasive to everyone and has a superiority complex when she first get's to Skyrim, but after the world puts in her place and she starts to show the province more respect, she actually comes to find the culture and social environment less hostile and more comfortable for her. She didn't even realize how anxious and stressed Alinor made her her whole life.
#im tired as hell right now so sorry if this makes just 0 sense#i love rambling about my ocs though#mine#ask#shadylex#my ocs#oc: elisere#oc: eilwen#i dont think i posted the ref sheets i made for them for artfight yet but i should do that!
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Ray, my friend, I need to know about my portal pal Gorzha gra-Artaeum 🌺💼🧠
PORTAL BUDDYYYYYY
- Gorzha's only love is more and more hidden knowledge but she's probably gotten down with some of the Ciphers in Apocrypha.
- Is Itinerant knowledge accumulation a career? Nominally she assists Azandar with his studies but she's mostly looking for the best time to steal all of his notes to add to her repository. She used to be a psijic novice, hence the "gra-Artaeum". She uses it in the same way Azandar uses "al-Cybiades", to dissociate from her actual home.
- Probably my favorite thing about her is knowing her ending and knowing the things she doesn't. More than anything, Gorzha wants the One Singular Truth of the universe. She will not accept that there might be multiple "truths" or that the truth is not so concrete as she thinks. The search will eventually drive her mad, and she will become one of the Hushed.
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OC ask: what color scheme do you associate with your OCs? (Any or only one, let's gooo)
hhh color coding is basically My Thing so we've got
tsameiji- black and blue (with an equal mix of both)
jackson - black, with a little bit of blue
leyna - black, with a bit of purple
cassirin - black and dark green
virilya - light green and gray
fjolhar - brown and silver
ainora - gold and silver
arthur - red, black, and silver
amarie - red, black, and gold
aimee - light blue
val - back in the day they used to have black and gold as their colors, but nowadays i tend to put them in neutral colors like black, gray, and brown
natalie - black and magenta (though i do break away from this sometimes)
lisenya - lilac and black (she's a pastel goth girlie)
#asks#shadylex#im also goth so thats why theres a lot of black 💀#i have so many ocs who are some flavor of alt
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HAPPY DAY OF BORTH TO YOU!!!!!
LOVE U KIM
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Send this to all your favourite moots and pass the pumpkin round! KEEP THE PUMPKIN TRAIN GOING 🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃
!!! CHOO CHOO
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Send this to all your favourite moots and pass the pumpkin round! KEEP THE PUMPKIN TRAIN GOING 🎃🖤🎃🖤🎃
hehe?
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Happy Happy Birthday Mae! Hope you have an awesome day!
Thank you Shady!!
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SHADYLEXIC
A gender related to the word shady.
#shadylexic#lexic#lexic gender#mogai#coining#mogai flag#flag#genders#xenogenders#mogai coining#mogai term#xenogender#xenogender flag#xeno coining#xenogender coining#gender coining#term
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VN style hotpot for @shadylex 🍲
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OC Smash or Pass
I was tagged by @radioactive-synth and @serenbach86, thank you both so much!
Tagging @feitanportor @astralprisms @dekarios @secondsundering @shadylex AND ANYONE ELSE WHO WOULD LIKE TO DO THIS!
Full Name: Ilu'la (Ilu for short. Do not call her Ilu'la.)
Age: Older than your entire bloodline
Height: 6' / about 183cm
Gender: Transmasc and Bigender
Pronouns: She/Her & He/Him
Sexuality: Bisexual
PROS:
Will take care of you like a delicate little egg. And spoil you
20 Strength stat
Dom top... usually
Very physically affectionate (possible con?)
Not wary of public displays of affection like other githyanki (she calls it "marking her territory")
You could be with him for a literal eternity in the Astral Plane
CONS:
Still in love with her dragon wife who has been dead for like, a thousand years
Oops his wife comes back from the dead (unwillingly. thanks Vlaakith) and he will choose her over you if given that ultimatum
Never going to say that he loves you
Emotionally constipated AND combustible
Bites and scratches to show affection (possible pro?)
Ass so flat it's actually concave
Kinda (very) mean sometimes
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A brain thought that grew too big, and turned into a new project.
Enjoy some Maormer fanfic!
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Was it unlawful and cruel to go running for the shoreline after a massive storm churned up several lost and sunken ships in hopes of finding leftover treasures or supplies to enhance one's own ship?
Nylarril didn't think so, and so did a majority of the others living on Pyandonea.
For months now the sea was in a state of unrest with storms regularly falling over the island. It was the summer months when such storms were meant to happen. Scouting and raid operations were at a halt until there were calmer waters. Only those ordered by King Orgnum himself venture out and with no less than three storm mages per ship to grant them safe passage out of the misty veil.
Until then, Nylarril was home and was going scavenging.
It was going to be awhile before he was called to action and he was hoping to find some decent tools leftover on the ships. If not, he could find some old weapons to turn over to the smith to remake them into new blades. And if it really was a worthless endeavor to search around the wreckages, he could at least find dinner.
There was no one around his area of the shoreline, at least to his knowledge. He did wake up pretty early after the storm had passed over the island. It was a blessing none of the trees had crashed down on his home and only blew leaves onto his path. A minor inconvenience, so long as he didn’t slip on any of them.
Nylarril was waist deep in the belly of a ship, cracked open like a shucked oyster. He could see the different levels and what was left of the cargo floating pitifully around him. Nothing survived their stay in the sea as plenty of them had been eaten by the fish or boring clams chewed the wood into splinters.
He did find the armory of one ship and started collecting the best looking pieces onto a floating crate for ease of carrying.
‘At least today wasn’t a total waste,��� he thought as he piled more miscellaneous pieces into the crate. ‘I can probably convince the smith to make me a new sword out of this. If any of the metal is good.’
With loot in tow, and maybe a few pieces of gold he found in some random corners, he started to wade his way back to the shore. He momentarily got lost inbetween the towering shells of the ships around him and found himself deeper into the ship graveyard. It was there that he heard a noise.
There was a persistent splashing sound somewhere inside the ship’s hull. It could be any number of things that could’ve been caught up in the wreckage. Maybe it was a bit of debris that was hanging in a weird way to keep splashing. Maybe it was a creature wrapped up in some rope trapped. Either way, it was making noise and that could mean something worthwhile to see.
With a new goal in mind Nylarril waded toward the noise. Rope around his waist to keep his floating crate nearby, it took him longer than he thought to find the source of the noise. The closer he got to the splashing the stranger it sounded. It sounded less like a piece of debris being pushed and pulled by the waves and definitely like something was caught and thrashing around.
It wasn’t long until he ducked under a fallen beam and turned the corner when he finally laid eyes on the cause of the sound.
“Mother Sea preserve me!”
Trapped, wrapped up in a tangle of netting and ropes, was a mermaid.
Serpentine in shape, trapped half in and out of the water, Nylarril could see the glittering silver of its tail splashing in the water as it thrashed around trying to get out. Its arms were pinned to their body and it twisted this way and that way to try and loosen the ropes but only serving to tighten them more. It had gotten to a point where one of the nets must’ve dug into flesh as a steady trickle of blood dripped into the water around it.
His exclamation instantly caught its attention and Nylarril was caught frozen by the eyes that gazed into his own.
Like two pieces of onyx set into a silvery face, glittering from the reflections of the water. They squinted and were accompanied by a snarled mouth lined with razor sharp teeth. This mermaid meant harm in every way possible despite being trapped.
This could be a benefit to him.
There was very little to no information about mermaids, neither here in Pyandonea or in Summerset. Were he to capture this mermaid and bring it to a Captain or even a Commodore this could be a great boon to him. On the other hand… it was also told in myths that to try and use a mermaid for selfish reasons would only bring ruin to a person's name.
Choices, choices.
Of which were about to be severely limited as the longer he stood there like a dumb bluegill with his mouth open the more aggravated the mermaid became. So much so that Nylarril noticed the water orbs starting to rise up and were about to skewer him.
“Wait, wait, wait!” he exclaimed while also dispelling the orbs with a wave of his hand. Without magic to keep them up, the orbs splashed harmlessly back into the sea. Much to the surprise of the mermaid it seemed by the shocked expression on their face. It stopped it’s thrashing just long enough for him to raise his hands and speak again.
“I’m not going to harm you,” he blurted out. “I can… I can cut you down… If you let me.”
Great job, offering to help the thing when not a moment ago he was thinking of passing it off to a Captain.
But also he didn’t want to get stabbed to death with water.
Nylarril wasn’t exactly sure if it even understood Pyandonea but it wasn’t thrashing around anymore. It just kept… staring at him with those giant eyes. Blood kept trickling down some netting and dropping into the water, tainting it red. If there was ever a time to approach it was right now.
He untied himself from his crate, pushing it against a wall so it didn’t drift away. Hands up and slowly walking forward he approached the mermaid. As he approached he started to get a better look at it.
They were silvery before, but even closer up he could see the brilliance in their scales. The little bit of direct sunlight piercing past the clouds bounced off their scales in a kaleidoscope of colors. Nylarril’s knowledge of mermaids was sparse and few, but some of the readings and myths he knew mostly described mermaids as perfectly half fish and half humanoid.
This mermaid certainly was not, with the scales completely covering them from head to wherever their tail ended. They were more akin to lamia he’s seen on Tamriel, part women part snake beings. There was a long dorsal fin he could see poking out and tearing through a piece of a sail, possibly traveled the length of their tail.
Once he was close enough, Nylarril risked getting his dagger out. Slowly it came out of his sheath and the mermaids eyes were locked onto it instantly. There was a moment where he saw their tail twitch and causing a surprising amount of water to shift around him. Just how long was this thing?
But it wasn’t thrashing, and no shift of magic in the water made him think he was about to get skewered. So he carefully started to cut them free.
First starting well away from their body, pulling away the excess sails that were keeping it bound. Once those were away he could see the netting that were digging under their scales and causing them to bleed. Along their chest were familiar ridges of gills where the net was actually digging into flesh. And fairly deep with how much it was bleeding, and the pink of the inner gills were starting to become exposed.
“This is going to hurt,” he explained, as if the thing could understand him. Perhaps so, as it did nothing when his blade got closer to it. Maybe a slight flinch when the blade peeled away the first layers of netting, but nothing threatening anymore. It had to hurt eventually though, as he began to pick the netting and start to dig it out from the flesh. He heard a low rumble through their body and glanced to see it grimacing but looking away from the sight.
More netting he dug out of the flesh, a few small scales falling into the water below, until he finally tugged the last of the twine out of it.
“No more netting in there,” he announced. How strange that he was rather calm next to a practically mythical being. It probably had to do with seeing it trapped and bleeding that assuaged some of the glamour of it all. Not all things from Mother Sea were impervious after all.
There were only a few bundles of netting left keeping them hanging above the water and he solved it with a quick swipe of his blade.
Several things happened all at once then.
No longer bound and free to move, the mermaid shoved him backwards and into the water. Underwater, Nylarril was able to see the true length of this mermaid as it shifted around him. The length of two fishing boats stern to aft, it was a massive amount of body that was swirling around him and out of this ship graveyard. As the mermaid left he could see other parts of it’s body wrapped in sails and netting. And just like that, they were gone.
Nylarril got his feet under him and stood back up, wiping water out off his face to look at the empty area around him. All that was left was some blood lingering in the water, and glittering scales in the sand. He crouched down to pick one of them up. No bigger than one of his thumbnails, but it reflected sunlight like a mirror. Without this scale in his hand one could almost imagine that the mermaid was never here at all.
“I need a drink,” he finally said after a long pause. Nylarril collected his floating crate and retied himself to it and found his way out of the ship graveyard. When he reached the shore did he find others dragging their own loot out onto the beach. A few of them waved at him and called out,
“Found anything interesting out there?”
He thought about the glittering scale he stashed in his pouch. For a moment he thought about saying what he saw. Of onyx eyes and snarling teeth, and blood dripping from a mythical creature. And how it looked at him with wide eyes and kept still as he cut it free.
“No,” he lied. “Nothing interesting at all.”
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WIP Whenever
Tagged by @ashyam-xivilai , @sniperviper and @shadylex
I've not done much since I last did a WIP post I think because I've been dealing with some stuff and on holiday so not much art but!
Okay that's actually all I really have since my last wip post hrfujdeis... I was just trying some pixel art of Xhi. I've mostly been working on art I owe people than personal stuff lately.
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Hello!
3, 7, and 15 from the OC trauma ask game for any OC of your choice :)
heyyy its the sixth time im trying to answer this ask!! :D i think Tumblr cant deal the length of it? i dont know but i couldnt just NOT elaborate on this, the questions were so good!! im so glad i can share with you points of this dunmer called Sangre/Xangr (Sangre is the most common spelling but Tumblr prefered with an X) brace yourself, dearest, bc thats a LONG answer that awaits!! LETS GO
3 - Have they died before ?
YOU BEGAN..... With the absolute most banger question of the whole ask meme. I am obliged to elaborate on this. I'll tag @shadylex bc, dear, you may like it (pls answer the same ask for Yera) How do I state this... Xangr doesnt really know if he's alive. Well. There are clues you'd say! But this boy is not quite sure about that. Xangr feels like his body is not his. He feels like his face is stolen from another. He feels like his whole life is what living as a cancer would be. He asphyxiates in his own rotten flesh. He feels his bones rejecting him so hard they cramble like glass from time to time. He feels STUCKED HERE... Somewhere not at the right place, somehow caged here inside of the One this body belongs to. So, if this meat isnt his, if those traits arent his neither, who is he? What is he here for? Does he even exist, if nothing is his? He's born aged 11, when a boy named Sigma-El shattered. He's been throwned into the hell of existance without any explanation. Xangr had no name back then. He had no idea why, he had no idea what was happening, no context, no clue but he felt MAD, he felt spontaneously FURIOUS about existing, he couldnt talk without spitting his rage to everything. He learnt quickly to dispise living, the rage turning his gaze away from his body, that made him SUFFER without any reason to be found. Pain alterated his appreciation of the world. Xangr experienced suffering so hard he was blinded by it. Each fiber of his being tore him apart, so violently he would bite, bleed himself to feel relief...
Until years, and years later, free from the Telvannis and far from Vvardenfell that he fled in his desperate fury against everything, an Altmer called Cyriel took long months to establish a dialogue with him. It was at first chaotic, but Cyriel understood that this insane violence directed toward the outside found its source directly into core. Cyriel acknowledged pain. He acknowledged trouble, hunger for answers, wishes for loneliness, DISTRESS. He asked him if he has a name, HIS name, and Xangr, named Sigma-El back then, said "Sangre." (A red pigment, HIS fav color)
Now that he has a word to design himself with, he began slowly to live as such. It took years again for Cyriel and Xangr to explore the implications of this new statement. What Xangr is, what is his role here. Cyriel was a fantastic friend, such a nice character (I love him with so much tenderness) but even now with dawning of answers, questions remained and Xangr feelt deeper and deeper as a hack, a fraud, he understood that they are at least two and feelt existing as stealing Sigma-El's life.
Sigma-El is here, somewhere, asleep. He knows the day Sigma-El would wake up, he'd die probably in counterpart. It would be the day he's not needed anymore - and each time Sigma-El or what will become Molkhun Dahkem take on their body, Xangr experiences anguish of disappearance again and again.
He feels alive nowadays, when he's painting his skin, when he's sewing his dresses, when he's performing dances, when he's having sex, when he eats juicy fruits or kahjiiti tajines, when he hears the enchanting sounds of his jewelry... and even more after the Planemeld in which he heavily took part back then, as a Worm Cultist. He got so much into death, so much into self-destruction..!
Now that he learnt to accept their condition, to love Sigma-El, to love himself too, pain appeased a lot. Yet he's so scared to die and willing to live his own life, he knows the clock is ticking bc he disobeyed Coldharbour, he knows he has to enjoy seconds before Oblivion reaps him... Even if in doing so, he keeps his dear Sigma-El forcefully shutted down for a while.
Life...or even what feels like a simulacre of it... Is way too good. Way too precious. Way too much of a miracle.
So I'd say.
Yes, Xangr knows death. He knows existing and non-existing. That's why he's so eager to survive.
7 - How easy is it to make them cry ?
You won't be capable to. He even doesnt know how to do. It happens that he feels numb and his body sometimes craves for tears, but they dont fall. It's like he never learnt to do so. It remains stucked.
Its due to the fact that even if, now, its better than ever, he doesnt feel connected to his envelop. He doesnt feel connected to his own feelings enough to let them exist this way. First, he's not concerned about people's emotions at all and dont experience them the same way, but foremost he struggles to let them live. That's why his smile is beautiful but empty, Xangr has a pretty face but almost no active emotions going through it. BUT THERE IS AN EXCEPTION. This exception being Sigma-El. When Xangr focus on Sigma-El, when he puts his hand on his belly as he was bearing a child, there is a link that creates here. He's so deeply merged with Sigma-El that he fades crying when his soul reverberates the later's light. Sig is now everything to Xangr, it's his infant, his lovely dear, his life evolves only around him being asleep and needing protection... Xangr feels so much intimacy, so much spontaneous understanding when Sigma-El is there with him, it's too much to handle. Brushing Sigma-El with the very end of his fingers... Brings the euphoria, the joy of existing and suddenly having all the answers. He gets emotional each time he mentions him.
15 - Are they neurodivergent ?
Heck yes they are. They are a system of alters, the host being Sigma-El. Sigma-El as such have a lot of autistic traits he gave to Xangr when he "fell asleep". Xangr is stimming a lot, barely interested in social conveniences, looks blunt, has a taste for riddles and troubles interacting with people. He's very independant and most of the time he's a sweetheart that people learn to love. He has a passion for erotic novels - he seeks stimulation and likes everything that brings sensations to his numb body. He's a bit ADHD, like myself, and we share some similarities that have a funny history. As no psychiatry is available in the TES, I made of their multiplicity a subject of wonder. Cyriel for exemple has theories of what happened, explaining with prisms and light theories, Xangr is more of a "We are a triangle" boy - he explains using geometry... But only Sigma-El has the answers. Xangr consideres Sigma-El to be like a mini-god having the power to mold himself in aspects and shapes. Its why Xangr reveres no Divine ; he reveres Sigma-El.
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1, 12, and 17 for val?
1. What's the lie your character says most often?
as a battlemage potential, they'd lie to their mother about their progress in their studies when really, they'd be off doing gods-know-what. they were generally self-destructive and toxic at the battlespire because they felt trapped in there. the only person who really saw that they had a problem was their uncle martus, but he had his own demons that kept him from really giving them any help.
after they desert the battlespire, they don't really feel the need to lie anymore
12. What's something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!
when they're being all romantic with amarie and then decide to say something to ruin the mood. like this (nsfw joke but i can't think of anything else atm 😭)
but yeah, they think that the death glare she does at them afterwards is fucking Hilarious
17. What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?
people usually notice their very butch/masc fashion style first, while val themself sees their hair.
when they were a teenager, they once pulled a prank on their classmate lucilla* that led her to keep her hair short. they'd pick on her for it, but they secretly always wanted to keep their hair short, too. it wasn't until they met amarie that they decided to cut it and keep it loose, though they were kind of shocked to realize that their new hairstyle ended up resembling lucilla's. oops!
(*lucilla as in lucilla caprenia from the dread cellar dungeon. in my lore, val replaces lucilla as the battlemage potential who accompanies martus to the dread cellar. however, while lucilla was chosen because of her status as a gifted battlemage-in-training, val was chosen because they're martus's niece. so, nepotism kinda played a role in their mission for the dread cellar.)
#asks#shadylex#oc: val magia#oc: amarie veilleux#ship: valarie#lucilla caprenia#yeah lets just say that battlemage val was uhhh a little problematic !#also i made val BEFORE dread cellar even came out on pts so i joke that zos stole my oc and made lucilla jsjddjj#val has always been connected to the battlemages but last year i decided to rewrite their lore and connect them to the dread cellar#by making martus their uncle and having them take lucilla's place#aaaand amarie is undaunted so she meets martus and val by coincidence bc she went there as a pledge. etc.
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@shadylex put me in the bog
Faint fm radio will be my companion while I bask
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