#elves hunt for food

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Silvans are Nocturnal

No but seriously though, considering that the elves of Beriland very much did not have any form of light other than the stars until the sun came up, they probably feel more at home in the darkness of the night and this continues to be the way the silvans opperate through the ages. It helps that ultimately they do not interact that much with other elven realms so it’s not as if they need to change to accommodate them.

Furthermore, elves can stay awake days at a time, so when the silvans do need to interact with outsiders they can simply stay awake during the day when needed and leave no one the wiser.

A more tactical reason for the nocturnalness is that the enemy, the darkness is more active during the night and less during the day, so it’s safer to sleep during the day than at night.

I must emphesize that, due to their nocternalness, they also do not need much light to see in the dark, so at most you have faintly glowing plants or lamps throughout the settlement/stronghold/palace that are only strong enough to give a vague outline of the place, but not enough to give anyone any details. It makes it very hard for outsiders to navigate through the place during the night.

The silvans, of course, have no issue seeing everything clearely, allowing them to get the drop on many beings. Their eyes also have an odd glow to them, not like that of the trees, but it’s unique to the silvan folfk and other elves find it highly unsettling.

(Off topic, but i personally believe that the silvans stalk through the forests like leapards and jaguars, largely due to them, well, living in a forest with uneven ground surrounded by foilage that makes it hard to see enemies from far away. They also slink through the forest to hunt, getting a literal drop on their prey from the trees.

The way silvan’s behave is very different from any other elves (except maybe the avari and/or green elves) bc they do not reside in large cities with towering buildings and wide open space)

This in turn has the side affect of at least Thranduil and Legolas walking as if they were stalking their prey and everyone finds it highly unsettling and it makes them think as if the silvan royals are pissed off at sm1 bc surely that must be why they’re behaving as if they are about to kill.

This is why Thranduil got himself accidentally painted as a very scary and temporal elf when in reality he’s a legit chill, calm, and fun guy who likes to party.

HE’S NOT TRYING TO BE SCARY, OK, HE’S JUST A SILVAN TRYING TO LIVE HIS LIFE! (Read: get drunk and make merry)

Also:

Elrond, getting up at the crack of dawn to get to work: oh, Thranduil! I didn’t know you’d be up already!

Thranduil, whose internal clock demands it’s evening and is getting dinner: how the fuck do you function during the day

And:

Boromir, whose taking the night watch: *sees legolas* aY YO WHAT THE FUCK-

Legolas, staring in the general direction of Boromir while sitting perfectly still with a bow in hand bc for him it’s day: *waves* nice night

Aragorn, trying to sleep, used to this: stop being a creepy bitch, Las.

[attractthecrows]

Ilithra my beloved. Ilithra my darling my doll

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

So in addition to being pointy would fae ears be more sensitive than normal ears?

Like better at hearing? Mmmm. Maybe slightly? But it's mostly just aesthetic.

To really be better at hearing they would need to be able to move their ears. In general and independently. Or bigger ears in general (the base of the ear I mean)

So the point would improve their hearing a little bit but realistically they'd need a lot of other stuff going on to make a significant difference.

Or I could just say it's magic but tbh I don't really see the Fae as needing to hunt prey down? (Which is what the hearing would be for) I see them more as 'lure prey in' kinda hunters.

[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Davrin (and also Grey Wardens and griffons) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Harding, Lucanis, Emmrich, Neve, Taash to be added tomorrow (or on Monday Jan 5th)

About Davrin

Family and past:

When he was a kid, Davrin broke his arm when his aravel sailed off a ridge 

Davrin stlll considers himself Dalish and thinks that will never change

Davrin hasn’t seen his clan since he left the forest. He misses the clan (‘it comes and goes’), Dalish food – especially halla milk and butter — and the sense of a common purpose. The last is why he joined the Wardens

Eldrin lives on his own, not together with Davrin’s clan

Just like Bellara, when Davrin was little, he wondered what it was like to his own house, shop at the market and make friends with outsiders

Davrin isn’t bothered by the idea of fighting the Elven gods because he never really believed in them, but he is worried about how the events of the Veilguard will impact the reputation of the elves

General:

Davrin drinks beer and wine

Davrin hums to himself :)

Davrin can speak some Dwarven 

Davrin doesn’t get the Fade - it’s just too many things at once (the place where spirits live, origin of creation etc.). He has difficulties believing it because it’s something he can’t touch or see 

Davrin would’ve left D’meta’s Crossing’s mayor to die

Davrin dumps griffon waste right into the Fade. No reservations about it whatsoever

Life with the Wardens:

Davrin says he never got used to hearing/sensing darkspawn after joining the Wardens

Davrin knows Ramish (protagonist of the Horrors of Hormkar)

The first group of Wardens Davrin fought with had a special system for fighting ogres. One of them would be “Cheese” (bait), drawing the ogre's attention while the others shot it with arrows (so Davrin can either use a bow or was always the Cheese) 

Monster hunting: 

Davrin can't take most books about monsters seriously, as they are not up to his standards

Fighting monsters is all about the thrill of the chase and tracking a target down rather than the victory

Davrin prefers to fight flesh-and-blood monsters rather than demons

Davrin takes full payment upfront when he hunts monsters for coin

Davrin has many monster trophies (Harding finds them disturbing)

Davrin does taxidermy 

Relationships with other companions: 

(In conversations with Bellara and Neve) Davrin genuinely believes Lucanis/Spite can kill them all 

(In conversation with Harding) Davrin proudly says Lucanis couldn’t take him 

Davrin made a little statue with a skull for a face as a gift for Emmrich’s colleague at his request

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Davrin offers Emmrich to become a monster-hunting team (“Warden and lich. From darkspawn to demons, we've got you covered.”), thinking they could score a lot of coin

Davrin also offers Neve to set up shop together. “Minrathous Monsters and Murders. If it's claws and fangs stirring up trouble, we've got it covered.” Neve suggests Emmrich (and Manfred, if he's alive) joins them

Davrin and Neve met before the events of the Veilagurd on what Neve calls “The Vol Dorma Job”

About Assan and griffons:

Griffons like shiny things. Assan even once stole one of Bellara’s crystals (but later brought it back) 

(If Sent to Arlathan Forest) Griffons seem to 'remember' patrolling the forest, like it's a genetic thing

(If sent to the Wardens) Griffons listen to Evka

There’s no definite age for when a griffon is ready to carry a rider. It’s more about size and discipline 

(If Rook is in romance with Davrin) Assan gets a little moody/jealous after Davrin and Rook get together

Fade spooks Assan, so he doesn’t fly too far away from the Lighthouse 

Assan eats pastries from the kitchen

Assan doesn't like eating vegetables, but Davrin got him to eat carrots after Taash pointed out he needed more fibre in his diet

Assan misses Manfred when he dies

Assan can dive underwater and eat fish

Assan is curious about Neve’s wisps

About Wardens/misc:

Wardens slip Worry Weed into each other’s ale for kicks (it causes paranoia)

There is no definite timeline of how long a blighted person can survive without the Joining. It all depends on the person

Evka is good at telling spooky stories

Weisshaupt has a world-class library with books over a thousand years old

Wooden carvings can become haunted if blood gets on them

Wardens usually eat cold gruel for meals. Nobody knows what's inside it

[cerastes]

How thinly veiled are we talkin?

See, in Unicorn Overlord, there’s many characters you can spare or execute. UO attempts a moral quandary where you can put aside your moral apprehensions and spare absolutely awful people in order to recruit them, or just not kill them without them necessarily joining you.

“Attempts” is the key word here because while the gameplay is very fun, the writing of the game has all the charm of a stiff doorknob, it’s not a game I’d recommend if you want to get to know wonderful, innovative, and or charming characters per se.

Big preface coming:

A rare good example: There’s a pair of plague doctors who engaged in actual honest to god human experimentation of the cruelest most utilitarian kind, BUT it was ultimately, genuinely because that particular case was one where you really couldn’t make an omelette without breaking some eggs. If that plague they were attempting to placate spread, it really was going to be a continent-wide pandemic. One of them dies, the other one pleads you to let her finish the research, because it’s almost done and it’ll make all the sacrifices worth it. This is good because you can put the bag on it to punish an objectively cruel and cold doc but potentially fuck over a lot of people by effectively cutting out the potential cure, OR let her finish up and thus validating all the incredibly cruel experiments she carried through but potentially saving a lot more people.

Now, contrast this with this one regional lord who was severely rationing food, and who was very much a massive asshole, but the guy had a point: Famines happened in this particular region, he survived one such famine as a kid, seeing many people die. The way the good guy that puts you against him describes, he’s starving people, but literally every other villager tells you “yeah we don’t eat much but we still are pretty ok and we’ve never actually been hungry because our larders are always full”, and this guy, who was very much just an asshole but completely right and not at all unreasonable, you have no way to spare him whatsoever.

That’s fine and all, but then you have our Main Course here:

There’s a dude early on who’s gleefully killing people and looting villages who you can fight. Upon defeat, he spins you a sad story about his sick, sick sister who needs an expensive medicine, asks you to spare him. You can’t execute him, just incarcerate him, which is odd and unique to him. If you do, predictably, he escapes.

Soon after, a guy is assaulting a church, pilfering all he can with hostages, makes sure he’d enjoy putting some arrows in some foreheads. You fight, beat him, and we have a story about his friend’s sick sister, you see, and this is to help pay for her medicine. You CAN execute him.

MUCH later, in elfland, the first guy is straight up, again, gleefully killing elves and kidnapping a lot of elven villagers, selling them to slavery and worse, you fight him, he says his sister is just so so sick that he has no choice but to traffic elves. You can forgive him again or execute him. Except if you pick to not forgive him, the piece of shit Gryphon Rider that joins you this map stops you and tells him to go to her family, they’ll provide him with a full on cure free of charge for her :) yippie! Hell, if you forgave him twice, he joins you and this is framed as a really cool thing. Fuck those elves that got trafficked already, by the way. Literally no recourse, justice, or anything. Game almost guilts you for not forgiving the guy that happily murders and traffics civilians because he has a sick sister. Cool.

So at least that’s over with, except another entirely different guy who in the early game was hunting witches (who are good in this setting) for profit and glory, and who you beat, has escaped to a late game area, in the beast folk country, and has ingratiated himself with the local beast folk community, while in the darkness, he’s kidnapping and trafficking beast folk civilians. You beat him and then he gets a whole cutscene about how hard he’s been trying to reverse his fortunes — despite always showing to enjoy himself a LOT while enslaving and trafficking beast folks — and how that’s admirable and he’ll Never Give Up. You get no choice to execute him whatsoever, again, a rarity, and he becomes a defender of the beast folk, no repentance whatsoever. The beast folks who git trafficked, by the way? Fuck them lmao, because the guy Never Gives Up. Oops!

The way Unicorn Overlord handles the complete inability to punish slavemongers and traffickers of life in stark contrast with the fates of literally everyone else is incredibly jarring and weird, down to the way it’s always framed as “awww but it’s for an admirable reason though!” whereas far nobler enemies, some of which are literally just fighting to defend their people, get put in the woodchipper or have the choice to get put in the woodchipper completely unceremoniously, which is so so weird when only, specifically the people traffickers are unkillable and glorified.

[schoenpepper]

Isekai'd Chronicles 5

Intro: Pomefiore in an isekai AU.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, Rook Hunt is a warning in his own right, some bullying, a duel, google translated French

A/N: The thought of elf Vil makes me want to do things. Cry, maybe. Thoughts on Neige in this AU: he's just a random pretty human celebrity that people are saying is prettier than even the elves (who are known to be hot af). Anyway, enjoy!

Masterlist

It's a really big deal when you have the future ruler of the elves standing in front of you, especially when said elf has blond hair and purple eyes and ungodly beauty. You knew your new friend Epel was going to bring about chaos, but you just had to befriend him anyway and let him hide out in your room in an act of (stupidity) kindness. Thus, you carved your fate in stone and you really only have yourself to blame when Vil Schoenheit is glaring at you and the elf that so courageously jumped out to defend you.

This is not what a smart 'reincarnated into a villain' would do, you know? You should be avoiding them, so why is it that you seem to be a magnet for trouble? This one's definitely on you, though.

He seems mildly impressed that you have the guts to actually stand up to him, and he invites you to Epel's etiquette lessons hoping that perhaps the purple haired elf would calm his rebel spirit when the lessons are happening with a friend. You accept stupidly because Epel's puppy dog eyes are very hard to say no to, plus, Vil's regal aura did not seem like he would even take no for an answer. It's not too bad, you tell yourself, especially since elf etiquette isn't too different from the kind you'd needed to learn from childhood. It also started from beginner level basics, because apparently, Epel was born in a part of the elven forest where there were no nobles at all.

Vil isn't a bad teacher, by any means. In fact, he feels more like a caring mother hen when he fusses over your clothing and teaches you about proper skin, hair, nail and everything else care. He gives you tons of homemade products and serums and cosmetics, and you smell like a bouquet of flowers by the time you're done with the routine he'd set up for you. Time spent with him is soothing almost, and you eventually find yourself spending time with him even without Epel, outside of etiquette lessons. He goes out shopping for clothes with you as he teaches you about elf fashion, and you talk to him about human celebrity scandals that you'd seen in magazines. He lets you try makeup on his perfect face when he has nowhere to be, and you concoct healthy meals in the kitchen with him to try to make delicious food that still passes his caloric and nutrient standards.

Vil won't kill you. He's above that, you're sure. Then that's another capture target down.

There's just no way you can keep your eyes off Vil, you know? He's ethereal, too beautiful to be human. Because he's not, he's an elf. Lilac eyes meet your own in confusion when you hand over the small bouquet of lilacs to him.

"What is this for, potato?" You give him a proud smile and answer. "My lilac flowers bloomed, senpai. I planted them a while ago, but this is the first time they've had such pretty blooms. They reminded me of the color of your eyes, so I thought I'd give you some!"

There's amusement and...something else that's lingering in his irises, but you can't quite put a finger on it. He takes the bouquet. "I must thank you, then. These are lovely."

Some people have gotten on your nerves recently. You know who they are, they don't hide their snickers when they pull their stupid childish pranks. But they hide it well in public even when you know they mock you for 'sucking up to everyone', but you're not a suck up! They're your friends! In any case, you're also a duke's heir, so they definitely have a lot of guts to be picking on you. If you were any more cruel, you'd sic Floyd or Jade on them (or Floyd and Jade if you were feeling particularly sadistic), but you decide to call them out instead and challenge their dumb leader to a duel. So there you were, sword against the other person's neck and they use magic and that's not in the rules! Right before the flames catch onto your hair, an arrow whizzes past your ear (the PTSD from your childhood has you frozen in place) and grazes your enemy's arm. It wounds him but he's not going to die, so you call out to the referee and the duel is your win!

You still tell Floyd afterwards because you were pissed the guy had the audacity to cheat.

When you look up past the ring, you see another blond elf, this time with a bob cut and clear green eyes the color of peppermint leaves. Your savior tips his hat to you as he puts his bow away with a smile on his face.

Your savior is Rook Hunt, Prince Vil's most loyal retainer.

You really are a trouble magnet. But it won't do your noble upbringing justice if you don't pay him back, right? He did save your reputation after all, maybe even your life. Thus, the following days are spent with Rook, giving him gifts and doing everything you can to pay back the debt of whatever weight you thought that duel carried. He treats you like a friend even though you're sure you've never met him before, and he lets you stay in his room to help him scrapbook photos of Neige LeBlanche. He teaches you how elves wield a bow and arrow, and his eyes light up when you invite him over to your manor for the weekend to hunt some monsters that loitered around the edge of the woods. Typically, your family's knights would handle the culling, but he seemed to find killing monsters with you as a fun pastime so you do as he wants to.

He sits you down and tells you he really enjoys spending time with you, and that you shouldn't think of it as a debt to be repaid anymore. And surely, this very nice elf won't kill you...right?

You gingerly cross him off the list.

"Rook senpai, I'm glad I found you." You walk over to the bush that wiggled weirdly earlier, and you're not surprised when a blond elf pops out of the foliage. You show him the item in your hands. "Look! I got you a limited edition signed photocard of that Neige. This hasn't been released yet, so I know it's not in your collection."

You swear there are tears in his eyes as he captures you in a hug, laughing wildly. "Merci mon amour! C’est vraiment merveilleux, oh, je comprends maintenant pourquoi tant de personnes sont tombées amoureuses de toi."

You don't know what he said, but you're glad he's happy.

[yellosnacc]

Once again a creature from the continent of Slomen. A very primitive but also very specilised critter. 6 to 30 cm long, wet roots up to 45cm.

They live in many aquatic environments but most often you will find them in forest rivers and lakes. Some species have even adapted for life in the sea and could be considered fully aquatic while still air breathing.

Majority of the clade feeds on small animals like invertebrates sometimes parts of plants they can digest. Their hunting strategy is either burst swimming, jumping or just sliding on top of some slow prey.

There were two important species that started life on land, with the leaf ancestor being a smaller, less land specilised of the two. Leafs are one of their earliest evolutionary branches as land vertebrates and have retained many acient features like paw suckers and teeth instead of claws. In bigger vertebrates most of these little teeth were lost and became true claws or fingers (even present on the other land climber ancestor).

They can actually eat with their feet that are still closely connected to their stomach. But it applies only to very small food particles.

The wets are not very culturally significant but some regions do eat them. But the thick mantle isn't very tasty. In some places they symbolise good harvest season.

These little guys are also related to the 'birds' of Elve and I'm sure you can see why.

[mushroomates]

aragorn headcanons:

sketches in his free time. likes to draw plants he’s come across, writes down descriptions for later. makes maps and draws animals.

cannot draw people, for the life of him.

except for arwen. draws her all the time.

used to very bland food, cooking on the road. prefers unseasoned meat, likes to taste the “natural flavor.”

dislikes nutmeg. cinnamon feind

favorite cookie is oatmeal raisin

has very grimy hands all the time. it’s never ending. even after he washes them, it’s like immediate dirt and grease

current theories are: his sword is just really dirty, his clothes are dirty so when he touches them it makes them dirty, or legolas’s favorite- humans naturally produce grime so the dirt is a natural protective layer above the skin.

in actuality it’s because he knows it grosses (some) elves out and likes to be a menace. specifically targets erestor. legolas will also go great lengths to make sure aragorns hands star far, far away from his hair

knows some card tricks. has great slight of hand specially because of these card tricks. didn’t really do anything with this until pippin discovered this fact and aragorn was forced (politely asked) to preform for the hobbits.

this is, in spite of the fact, that they all know a literal WIZARD (gandalf was salty at abt this “false magic”) and also a ring that turns ppl invisible??

sews. really well, actually. enjoys it but rarely showcases this talent- mostly patches and mends garments weathered by his lifestyle. would one day love to sew a dress for arwen but doesn’t know where to start

masterful at subtly deflecting compliments.

very generous with compliments of his own, but are again, subtle.

years of living with elves has made him quite reserved. yet, he is doing his best to unlearn this behavior. such examples include:

telling arwen he loves her. telling elrond he loves him. telling frodo he loves him. really just telling everyone he loves them. he’s even worse when he’s drunk- he rarely gets even tipsy, but under the influence of a fine wine (or mead, he prefers mead or ciders) he will get very emotional.

hugs!! aragorn loves to give hugs. he really tries his best but they’re a bit awkward at times. he’s getting better.

breaking away from the elven raw-diet and dine seasonings with grilled meat and more lately grilled everything.

he will try his best to cook for himself at any opportunity. it was a jarring shift going from being served gourmet eleven dinners to raw venison

love language is acts of service. he likes to cook for his friends, though he’s not as good as it as sam, who cooked a majority of fellowship meals, so he mainly hunts. then legolas offered his hand and gimli felt challenged by that and at this point boromir just felt excluded-

he just wants to do nice things for the people he cares abt.

arwen has not, for a good chunk of her life, tied her own shoes, peeled her own oranges, made her own tea, or woken up without breakfast being made or ready for her.

just. guys. he really really loves arwen. he will do anything for her and it’s almost obnoxious.

it IS obnoxious if you ask legolas. but this is why aragorn does not go to legolas for romantic advice. (legolas once told aragorn that the next time he ties her shoes he should tie them together so that when she falls he will catch her. this is why arwen stoped flats with ties and opted for anything she could slip on instead.)

will never cheat at any sort of game. he will get extremely upset if you accuse him of such.

he does not believe that counting cards qualifies as cheating. boromir strongly disagrees. he mainly sticks to chess, now

is not allowed to play chess with erestor, (sore loser and prone to trash talk) elrond (matches take to long due to overthinking on both ends and this annoys arwen to no end) and either of the twins (they cheat by working as a team)

would 100% believe in bigfoot.

[sldlovescartoons]

Just a thought, Essek and Yasha would definitely have some wild-ass conversations about food. Once he got a bit more comfortable and started to get more open to sharing, they would find out that the drow had a lot of opinions about food. Because Essek is a fancy elf, but he’s also a drow who lives in the sundered wastes of the God War. The others think what Yasha eats is weird, but Essek thinks HOW she eats/prepares it is weird. Because the dark elves just refine under dark/wastes ingredients into fancy foods.

“Lights sake, at least fry them first.” Essek says after watching Yasha eat a cricket she just picked up out of the grass before realizing what he said, how much of a dick he sounded like, apologizing, and promptly throwing himself into dissociation for 30 minutes.

They prepare giant spider legs like they WANT to get poisoned. They need to be throughly washed and cooked at VERY high temperatures, you absolute maniac.

The Nein are worried that the two are going to actually come to blows over the proper ways to prepare Rat, and Yasha is insisting on grilling and barbecue and Essek is offended because “When I was 44 the tunnel to our hunting grounds collapsed and the chefs had to supplement all the meats they got from the Underdark with livestock and lots of Rat. They found dozens of ways to cook rat that year, and you have listed none of them! Not even a mention of any cranberry and date fillings- absurd-“

And like everyone is glad Essek’s opening up and they don’t want to put a damper on it but Yasha is actually going to kill him. But they also have no idea how to even approach these conversations at all because they have no stake the Great Fried Cricket Debate.

[thana-topsy]

SKYRIM OC ASKS

I wanted to make a more in-depth and lore-building set of questions for people's Skyrim-specific OCs! This can be used as an ask game, or if you just want to answer them all without waiting for people to ask, have at it!

(Thanks to my good fandom buddies for all the suggestions!)

Which areas of Skyrim do they find most beautiful and most dangerous?

Which cities do they prefer to stay in and why? Which cities to they avoid at all costs?

What are their religious affiliations, and how does their worship (or lack thereof) affect their day-to-day life?

Do they believe the College of Winterhold caused the Great Collapse? If no, what is their theory?

Would they be able to live off the land if they were lost in the wilds of Skyrim? How skilled are they at foraging and hunting?

What is their opinion on Skyrim's "bandit problem"?

Do they regret journeying to Skyrim? Or, if they were born in Skyrim, do they wish they could leave?

What is their favorite kind of food that can only be found in Skyrim?

Do they believe in snow/sky whales?

Are they a part of any factions, guilds, or organizations?

If they are a magic user, what is their favorite school of magic? Do they have a natural talent for magic, or does it require diligence and study?

What are their prejudices? What groups have they come to think of as 'other'? Mages? Nords? Elves? Lollygaggers?

Do they believe the old nordic tales about the Dragonborn? If they are Dragonborn how has their experience differed?

Who is their mentor? Who do they go to most for lessons?

How do they feel about consorting with daedra? Do they collect their artifacts? Are there some they would never interact with vs. some they would consider calling upon?

What are their opinions on the civil war? Do they support a side or leave them to their own devices?

Do they have family? Who doe they consider to be family?

What is their stance on taking a life? Do they kill without a second thought, in the name of a god or daedra, or do they adhere to pacifism?

How are they with money? Do they hoard, or do they spend until their pockets are empty and they have to find work again? Have they saved for any houses?

Can they read?

[danger-xylophones]

King’s Herald Part 4

warnings: feminine titles (i.e. princess), Elrond has a slight OOC moment (it's for a reason, I promise)

masterlist | elves | king's herald navi

"Welcome home, ingaranel nin." Elrond's voice seemed to cut through the welcomings of all the other lords and ladies seated at the table.

"Thank you, Herald Elrond." You met his eyes and offered a solemn bow of your head, a sinking feeling of guilt pooling in your stomach.

Gil Galad looked between the two of you, "You've met?"

"Earlier, atar." You answered, thankful for the excuse to pull your gaze away from the young herald's.

"The princess and I met on the outskirts of the gardens earlier today, my lord." Elrond piped up, filling in the gaps you didn't wish to.

"I see," Gil Galad eventually uttered, "Well, I'm glad to hear you are acquainted. Please," he moved back to his seat at the head of the table, "Seat yourself."

With a small nod to your father, you averted your eyes and swiftly scanned for a place to sit. Currently there was one unoccupied seat towards the other end of the table. Away from Elrond so you could avoid any awkward conversation.

Unfortunately, just as you made a move towards it, a courtier seated next to Elrond sprung to his feet. "Oh, please, ingaranel, take my seat. It's at least closer to your father." He waved his hands in a subservient dismissal and scurried over to the chair.

"Oh," you gaped at him for a moment, stunned by the bad luck, "thank you, my lord." But, to keep face, you made towards the seat beside Elrond without raising a fuss. Without making eye contact, you settled into the chair beside him. He pointedly avoided looking at you, eyes fixed on the table. To avoid looking at him yourself, you looked up at Cirdan whose eyes had become set as he glanced between you and Elrond. Your face warmed, recognizing the look. He was disappointed.

"So, anel, tell me - how was the Greenwood?" Gil Galad's warm voice saved you for a moment, allowing you the chance to focus elsewhere.

"Good, atar. I would say I learned much under King Oropher." You began, folding your hands on the table and leaning forward to see around Elrond. "They have started attempts training owls to hunt for them. It's quite fascinating."

"Really?" He hummed, reaching for a goblet of wine. "How are these attempts going?" he took a sip and a courtier on the other side of the table mimicked him.

"Slowly, if I am honest." A servant appeared from seemingly nowhere to pour you your own goblet. You startled at their appearance. "Owls are stubborn creatures by nature. And seem..." you pursed your lips in thought, "disinclined to domestication."

Gil Galad hummed and set his cup down. "I recall Oropher's obsession with owls, he seemed to believe he could turn them into messengers." A bell rang as he finished speaking and a small crowd of servants appeared from the direction of the kitchen. They laid out a small feast on the table in absolute silence before bowing and leaving. You watched them go, hands falling to your lap. "Of course, I can't blame him for wanting a better way to communicate across his kingdom." Gil Galad broke the silence, resuming his thought where he left off. Carefully he served himself a few cuts of what looked to be duck before passing the ornate plate of food to his right. Elrond took it from him with a small nod. "We have been perfecting this with falcons ourselves."

You watched out of the corner of your eye as Elrond served himself and began to pass the plate towards you. "Really?" you hummed, accepting the plate and repeating the same process before passing it off. "And how are those attempts going?"

You saw your father's lips quirk into a swift grin as he procured a roll and started the process of passing food all over again. "Rather well, actually. The falcons are fast learners as well as fast flyers." He took a small bite of what you had correctly determined to be duck. "I am able to announce a decree across the entire kingdom in just four days now."

"As opposed to twenty when I was last here." You joked lightly. Despite Oropher's slow progress, he was making progress. Soon, your father wouldn't be able to be so boastful.

"Thankfully, those days are behind us, anel." A silence descended on the table, making you shift uncomfortably.

When the atmosphere became too suffocating, you looked to Cirdan. "Oh, Cirdan, Prince Thranduil had a question for you."

Cirdan lifted his gaze from his plate, a quizzical look on his face. "Oh? And what might the young elf want to know?"

"He wanted to know the best schematics for a boat that might potentially have to cut through ice."

"Really now?" Cirdan hummed, washing down a bite of greens with what looked to be water. "Quite a specific thing to want to know about."

"He's thinking of establishing trade with a nearby human settlement. Esgaroth? I think? Regardless, they're settled on the other side of the lake bordering the Greenwood." You took a small bite of food yourself. "Problem is, the lake starts to freeze every winter. Never fully, but enough that the people of Esgaroth are hesitant to trade during winter."

"Makes sense," Cirdan hummed, "I'd imagine they've built their livelihoods on fishing. Wouldn't want to risk damaging their boats during the winter then." He paused, a hand to his chin. "I'd have to think about this, ingaranel. I imagine if you could find a way to reinforce the hull you'd be relatively safe-"

"Tell me, anel," Gil Galad's voice cut through Cirdan's quiet musings. "Oropher spoke of how close you and Thranduil have gotten, do you have something to tell me?"

It was like someone had slapped you. You turned your head to your father so fast, skin unbearably warm. "Father, please. There is nothing between me and the prince. I adore him but he is like a brother to me."

Gil Galad raised an eyebrow, his face perfectly placid to contrast your outburst. "Easy, daughter. I meant no offense. I am aware that Oropher hoped you would fall for his son. I am glad you did not."

"I'm sure you are," you muttered under your breath as you shoved a forkful of food into your mouth. Beside you, you heard Elrond let out a funny little breath that you might've described as a laugh.

"Still, are there any courtships I should know about?" Gil Galad pressed.

You looked up sharply,

"What? It is a reasonable question." He pushed back.

You sent Cirdan a dry look only to find the shipmaster laughing into his goblet. You kicked him under the table.

"No. There is no one."

"A pity." He hummed. "Are you looking to find someone?"

"Atar, this is hardly the place-"

"I'm just making conversation-"

"Will you drop it?"

Gasps echoed from the far end of the table and you turned to find the gathered courtiers looking offended on behalf of the king. But, instead of feeling ashamed, you felt the familiar spark of indignation ignite in your belly. Were you not allowed to argue with your father? He was your atar before he became king.

"Sire, if I may-" one of the courtiers began to speak and your attention quickly zeroed in on him. He was a noldorian, tall with a thin, pale face and slightly too-big grey eyes. He was dressed in a deep maroon that brought out the silver of his hair. But you couldn't find it in yourself to appreciate your fellow elf's aesthetic beauty. Not when he was most likely going to tell your father that you were out of line.

"Please, Inariel, I do not need your input." Gil Galad raised a single hand and the elf sunk into his seat. "My apologies, anel. I meant no offense." He lowered his hand to his cup and lifted it in a sort of cheers, "Truce?"

"Truce." You nodded and returned to your plate, your head bowed in a mix of shame and vindication. King or not, Gil Galad was your father and you would speak to him as such. You would not be made to feel ashamed for it....

"May I be excused, atar?" You set your fork down with a quiet clink and raised your head to meet the king's gaze. He nodded a quiet ascent. Placing your napkin on your lap, you pushed your chair back and rose from your seat.

"Do you need an escort, anel?" He asked, eyeing you evenly. You were about to say no but thought better of it since your father knew of your propensity to get lost more than anyone. "Very well. Elrond, since you two are acquainted, would you mind showing my daughter to her room?"

Elrond, who had been just about to take a bite of his meal paused and slowly lowered his fork. "Of course, my king." He rose from his seat and offered an arm to you, "my lady?"

You took it, movements stilted as you tried your best not to show how uncomfortable you were. His arm, in turn, was hooked at an unnaturally sharp angle - jutting out from his side like a protruding bone.

Without need for further fanfare, he escorted you out of the dining hall and down an adjoining hallway.

The halls were darkened, the wall mounted candles dimmed by translucent, cream colored vellum domes placed around them. The softened light was meant to make you feel relaxed but it did little to abate the tension plaguing you and your companion.

Elrond walked with his head held high, his face placid, and posture ridiculously straight - he looked very much the part of a herald. And the part of a stick in the mud.

Gone was the gentle smile and relaxed air from your brief meeting in the gardens. Eradicated and replaced by the dry, boring energy of the elf beside you.

You found yourself worrying your bottom lip, torn between feeling sure that you had every right not to disclose who you were and shame at the thought that you had lied to Elrond and possibly embarrassed him.

"El..." you trailed off, perhaps you should act your role considering he was. "Herald Elrond," you amended, "I am...sorry for my deception earlier." He said nothing but you saw his eyes drift to your face. "While I don't think I needed to inform you of my station, I am sorry if I offended you by not doing so. Truly, it was not my intention."

Elrond made a sound you would liken to a scoff. But he did not speak, not until he had come to a stop before an ornate door you recognized as yours. "Tell me, ingaranel, if that was not your intention then why continue on a path that would ensure it happens?"

Anger surged, the insult not lost on you. "Forgive me, Elrond, I did not wish to be treated like your ruler so I did not disclose myself as such."

"You have made me seem dishonest." Elrond wrenched his arm from yours, his voice biting and exact.

"My choice to surprise my father is not a reflection on you."

"Now he knows I knew you were here and did not tell him."

"So tell him I commanded you not to say anything."

"I do not answer to you, ingaranel, not in the same way I answer to the High King. His word is law, yours is suggestion." The half-elf snapped and you found yourself taken aback.

"I am offering you an explanation for him and you refuse to take it. My father and his retainers will not blame you for following my command. They are used to my ways, and it is on their heads for thinking I would deviate." You found yourself hissing at the herald before you.

"Your ways are not the ways of Lindon." Elrond's voice was clipped, almost dark.

"Precisely, what is that supposed to mean?" you tried to keep your voice level but could hear even for yourself the depth of your seething.

Elrond stood up a little straighter and leveled you with an icy stare unbecoming of his warm eyes. "I have heard of your escapades and lack of decorum and seen them demonstrated for myself. It is of little wonder to me now why Gil Galad sent you to the Greenwood."

Stunned into silence, you could do little but stare at Elrond as you processed what he had said and the seemingly uncharacteristic venom in his words.

You both stood staring at each other, neither speaking whether because you could not think of what to say or because a passing party of elleth's had begun whispering to each other after spying you and the herald.

At length, you had enough and opened the door to your room. You were intending to simply shut the door without another word to the herald but some small, petty part of you screamed a better idea. Before you fully shut the door, you poked your head out at the herald. "Since my word is suggestion, allow me to make one, Herald Elrond," you raised your eyes to his and held him with the iciest stare you could manage, "Mind your tongue. I have no quarrel with you so do not force me to have one." Elrond's lips twitched but you continued before he had the chance to say anything. "Tell Cirdan that I would like to meet with him on the morrow. I will be at the Gray Havens come dawn's light."

"The King's welcoming ceremony for you is supposed to start at dawn." He stated, not breaking your stare.

"A pity, I won't be attending until noon." You started to close the door until Elrond wedged his boot in the way.

"He will not be pleased." The Herald insisted, holding the door open.

"I will not be pleased if I am set on display," you pressed the door harder against Elrond's foot, setting your own up to push his boot back, "He may speak to me about it if it truly bothers him and not through his herald. Good night, Elrond." With a firm kick to the bottom of his boot, you dislodged his foot from the doorway and slammed the door in the herald's face.

[melorambles]

had an unfortunate moment where i remembered how much the studios made the hobbit movies deviate from the books. Like, it's supposed to be a straight forward treasure hunt. You could read this to a kid, a chapter a night. There is moral complexity, but it's mostly in the category of 'hey, is it appropriate to risk waking up a dragon in exchange for treasure, when it's not us the dragon would go after? also, theoretically, if we, maybe, invaded a dragon's hoard, and it woke up and, coincidently, burned down a nearby town, would we owe reparations?' (now I'm imagining the reddit AITAH)

I know there's some discussion and speculation and excuses that well, the Hobbit as we know it was never the 'real' version anyway. It's the version Bilbo watered down to tell the kids in the Shire. But Bilbo would arguably have already been biased towards the dwarves in his version; he spent months travelling with them and getting to know them. The movie - which has events and conversations Bilbo isn't present for - is more even more favorable to the dwarves than Bilbo's own version. I have to think of the movies as the dwarf propaganda version of the Hobbit, because I remember so clearly Thranduil's line in the book about never wanting to go to war over gold and he got done so dirty in the movies. Except, you know who would have been told an extremely dwarf favorable version of the story?

Gimli.

The Hobbit movies could be the story as it was told to Gimli. It's an honorable quest to reclaim their homeland, not a treasure hunt at all. Bilbo is convinced to come along by their extremely moving songs of their homeland, definitely not the spite of being told he'd be useless. Of course all the elves were strange at best (serving salad in Rivendell - which is weird, elves have a god of the hunt and a history of great hunters, among which Elrond's sons could technically be counted, but that's not relevant right now) and actively hostile normally (Thranduil, though they imply he had his reasons, he's still an antagonist for them to face off with. In the book he does lock them up, but he has them brought food first thing. No mention of that in the movies.).

I don't know how to explain Legolas' presence in this version, or the thing with Tauriel. (None of that vibed with me for reasons I am happy to rant about elsewhere.) Maybe Merry or Pippin asks Gimli his version of the story and he's throwing in some outrageous story elements to try and mess with Legolas.

[missterious-figure]

Moon is... grumpy. He doesn't like to talk much and can be quite blunt. He has the natural ability to shape-shift. He hates humans, so instead of shape-shifting into one, he turns into an elf.

Sea angels are made by having a perfect pearl with no blemishes blessed in the full moon's rays. This transforms the pearl into a sort of "soul" and the body is formed around it. They are made as babies and need someone to care of them. Though any one could create a sea angel, most of the time, it's another sea angel who performs the ritual to gain a child.

Sea angels are hunted by greedy people for their black blood that can heal ailments, and is said to even bring the dead back to life. And if their tentacles are cut, pearls fall from the wound. A sea angel can only produce pearls the same color as their soul pearl.

When Moon was a baby he lived with his mother by the shore near an elf village. They were very nice and respectful towards him and his mother. This was because the elves made a deal with Moon's mother. In exchange for free food and a safety from poachers and monster hunters, his mother give them some of her healing blood and pearls.

But this little paradise didn't last. A group of humans, the servants of the Dark lord, were after a sea angel. These evil people were accompanied by a strange being, going by the name Eclipse. They found Moon and his mother playing in the waves together. And before Moon could understand what was happening he and his mother were netted and dragged to shore.

Moon's mother tried to defend her son and killed a few of the humans. But she was struck dead by Eclipse. There was such cold bitterness in his eyes as he told his men to take the body and Moon away with them. Moon was stuffed in the same bag as his dead mother, terrified of what was coming next. He was in the darkness for so long... he heard the evil humans talking about how "the blood needed to be fermented anyway for the spell" and "what to do with the little one?" Their cruel laughing etched it's way into Moon's mind forever.

The Dark lord's servants finally stopped at one of their hide outs. They pried Moon from his mother's corpse and tossed him into a cage. They left to go get some egg or something.

This is were Sun and Moon met. A few hours went by before the humans came back. They dumped Sun in cage right next to him. Luckily Sun was strong enough to help Moon break free and they escaped. After Moon and Sun discovered what happened to the poor golem's family, they decided to stay together. They swore they'd get revenge on this Dark lord guy... someday.

After along time passed and the two boys were alot more grown, they would frequently try and get as much information about the dark lord as the could from towns and whatnot. They would disguise themselves, of course. One day at a tavern in a small town they noticed someone else snooping around for information about the Dark lord. It was a human, but maybe... they could be useful...

[kradogsrats]

The last time Lissa cries is in Katolis.

As she rides away, she feels as if she'll weep forever—tears she can't stop flowing down her cheeks, ceaseless and steady—but when she crosses into Del Bar, her face and eyes are dry. Her parents welcome her back into their home. Her siblings and their children turning out to comfort her. Lissa smiles and thanks them, lets them embrace her.

None of them say, I told you so. Not outright, at least. She can tell some of them are thinking it.

Doesn't seem all that broken up about it, does she? Not a single tear.

Shush—let the poor girl be. Not all pains can be wept over right away.

But when her mother falls ill, she doesn't cry like her sisters do. When they bury her—when her father, always mountain-strong, is reduced to gravel in his children's arms—she has no tears to shed.

Nor does she weep for her brother's son—young and bright and brimming with promise—dead the instant his horse throws him, his neck snapped cleanly. He'd planned to marry his sweetheart, in a year or two. There's a funeral instead, the other boy's anguished tears a river of grief.

Lissa still does not cry. No matter the sorrow, her eyes sit in her head like stones, hard and heavy. Dry as bone, even as her throat closes and her chest burns like her heart is on fire.

There are no tears from her even for her second sister's husband, a sailor whose ship never returns from its last journey through the spring storms. Her sister holds her own shattered pieces together for the sake of their small children, and the family rallies to support her with food and chores and company. They cry with her, late into the night—all of them, except for Lissa.

Cold as the heart of Hinterpeak, that one.

You're surprised? She married a mage, she was cursed from the start.

Then she abandoned her children in the snake's den, when she'd had her fill of him and his poison.

I suppose it takes a monster to love a monster.

What could she tell them—that Viren had meant no ill? That she'd been the collateral damage of a miracle, a negligible cost for saving a child from death? That her children were better served by staying with a father who loved them so fiercely than by their broken mother dragging them away?

That when he'd stumbled in half-mad, his face scarred beyond recognition, ranting and raving his demands that she weep to save their son, she had refused? That she'd feared what he might take from her, as if anything she possessed could be worth more than Soren's life?

That when his hand twisted in her hair and the cold glass pressed against her cheek, she cried not for Soren, but for the man she'd loved and the monster he'd become?

That, most of all, she had cried for herself?

She stays quiet, and does not cry.

Her father finally passes, never recovered from her mother's loss, and her brother approaches on behalf of the family. We love you, Lissy, you know that—but we think it would be best if you didn't come to the funeral.

Lissa's heart burns, her throat clenched tight against any protest, and she nods. She leaves that night, vanishing into the mountains. No one comes looking for her.

She settles outside a remote village, in a tiny hut halfway up the mountain, more a hunter's seasonal shelter than a house. She busies herself with survival—tends a garden, hunts and forages. Down in the village, she trades the pelts of what she can trap, and sometimes plays the decrepit, barely-tuned piano in the tavern for coins.

That's where she hears of the great march on Xadia. King Viren of Katolis, leading the united Pentarchy to end the threat of dragons for good.

Lissa returns to the tavern every day after that, desperate for more news—it's barely a week later when she hears he's dead, his army broken by an alliance between the elves of Xadia and those loyal to King Harrow's son. There is no mention of her children in any of the garbled rumors.

It's almost a relief, that she doesn't cry for Viren.

But Soren would be old enough to have joined the Crownguard, just as he'd always wanted. With two kings dead in such quick succession—first King Harrow, and then, somehow, his own father—could she even dare hope he still lives? And Claudia, so fascinated by magic, even when it tore their family apart—had she succumbed to all its dangers? Would Viren have let her walk a different path, if she chose?

She imagines going back, demanding to know what happened to her son and daughter—if Viren remained in a place sufficiently prominent to somehow become king, someone has to know. She imagines seeing them again, being able to run to them and take them in her arms. She imagines crying, then—a decade of stolen tears released in a flood of joy and relief.

Then she imagines their revulsion at the mother who left them, should she be unable to shed a single tear of grief or regret.

Lissa stops going to the tavern. Her heart burns as if its falling to ash.

She doesn't cry.

[sserpente]

A/N: What if you accidentally pickpocket the wrong person? What if that person… is a rogue vampire elf who will demand something in return? Something… red? (Astarion's not ascended in this one)

Words: 1180 Warnings: mentions of prostitution

Your stomach was rumbling. How many days had it been? Three? Four? Truly, it had never been this bad before. Ever since Gortash had become archduke, the city was drowning in chaos and misery. Benevolent and generous people who’d usually slip you a coin or two walked on now, avoiding your quiet pleas to spare some change for a starving woman.

You didn’t want to do it but what other choice did you have but to pickpocket people? In the dead of winter, merchants rarely left their food out for too long and the taverns were not busy enough to slip your hand into a bag or two.

The streets were your best bet now that the sun was retreating and lit torches threw their warm light on the cobblestones, creating eerie shadows wherever you looked. Your victim would have to be someone rich, someone who could afford to part with currency. Someone like… him. Heavens, he was gorgeous.

A noble, for sure. He was elegant. Full white hair, pointy ears indicating he was a high elf, no doubt… clean and sophisticated clothing. Surely his pockets would be full and he wouldn’t miss a couple of gold coins disappearing to fill your belly with food tonight.

You approached, snaking past a passer-by to wait for the right moment. The elf turned… giving you just enough movement to dip your fingers into the small pouch attached to his belt. One, two, three, four… five gold pieces should be enough to buy yourself a warm meal tonight and perhaps some bread to feed you for the days to come.

“Why, you insolent little…” Panic washed over you when he spoke with a start. The elf’s gaze met yours as he flipped around—red orbs boring into your own, anger flickering in his. His hand snatched your wrist in a tight grip before you could yank it back and flee.

“You have picked the wrong target, darling.”

“I’m sorry… s-sorry, don’t… don’t tell the Steel Watch, please! I’ll leave.”

But it was a different kind of hazard this stunningly beautiful elf was radiating. Red-eyed elves were rare in itself but there was something else—something that told you that you had just made a very grave mistake in provoking this particular stranger before you.

“The Steel Watch?” The elf laughed. “I have no interest in reporting you to the Steel Watch. But in all honesty… you could help me out with something else.”

He was charming—more than you would have liked to admit. There was a sweet tone of seduction in his voice that went down like honey, so much so that you almost wanted to agree with him. But if there was one thing you had sworn to yourself, it was that you would never sell your body to ensure your survival.

“I… no. I don’t do… that.”

“What?” Anger appeared on the elf’s face. No, you realised… it was actual appalment. “I didn’t mean… I am talking about your blood, dear. You smell delicious.”

The thought of him being a vicious murderer on the hunt for the next thrill crossed your mind like a slap in the face—but your theory was rapidly disproved when he flashed you a disarming smile. Fangs. He was a vampire.

Your eyes widened, fear now fuelling your body more than the adrenaline ever could. You twisted your wrist, desperate to break free from him. But the relentless hunger had made you weak.

“Now, now, darling, no need to be scared. I am very, very… nice,” he said slowly, purring each and every word.

Dragging you after him before you could utter another word of protest, he slipped into the shadows and a dark side alley. A rat fled as you stumbled against the wall, abandoning the rotten carrot it had been gnawing on.

“I told you, I’m sorry. Please… don’t kill me,” you breathed out.

“Kill you? I’m not going to kill you. I just need a little taste. I was going make do with a drunk tonight but this… this is much better.”

He sighed when you squirmed, resulting in his large body pressing you even further against the brick wall. Your dirty dress scraped against the rough material. You lifted your head, biting your lower lip.

“How about this? You let me have a little nibble and in exchange, I’ll let you have the gold pieces you were going to steal from me. I’m not much for charity but I can work with a little… transaction.”

He would… was he serious? You blinked at him, surprised at yourself for even considering his words. If you accepted, would this truly be any different from selling your body in more intimate ways?

“I promise I’ll be gentle. You won’t feel a thing.”

“You know, most vampires would have ripped my throat out already,” you said. Your voice was a little shaky but you stood your ground. You had no choice, after all.

The stranger smiled. “I’m not most vampires, darling. Besides, I’m only a spawn, so you should consider yourself lucky. So? What do you say to my little proposition?”

“I…” Your stomach growled again, making the decision for you. “F-fine.”

“Excellent. My name is Astarion.”

You told him your name with a stutter following his seductive smile. Each and every muscle in your body tensed when he leaned forward, brushing your hair out of the way to reveal your neck to him.

One moment you could feel his hot breath against your skin, in the next you felt his sharp canines breaking it to draw blood. He’d held his promise. The initial pain subsided so fast that you questioned whether it’d been there to begin with. His mouth closed around the wound he caused, sucking your life essence out of you sip after sip after sip.

It felt… good. You’d expected it to be uncomfortable, to be dancing on the edge of unconsciousness or even death but this… perhaps he’d been just as hungry as you. Perhaps he’d been just as desperate as you. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

Your eyes fell shut as you gave in to the soothing sensation. Astarion moaned against your neck, a wordless sound of approval of your taste. You couldn’t help but feel flattered when he finally pulled away and licked his lips, a small trickle of blood staining the right corner of his mouth.

“Hmm… thank you, darling. That was…”

“Astarion! Astarion! Where the hells did he run off to now? I swear if he’s stealing scrolls from Rolan again, I will…”

The vampire rolled his eyes all the while you kept catching your breath from this unusual and strangely… erotic experience.

“I’m coming, Gale. Gods, the man is a nuisance.” He paused. “I shall hope to see you again, darling. You were delightful.”

Astarion slipped away gracefully, leaving you to sink down against the wall but before he did, he gently placed the entire gold pouch he’d been carrying in your palm with a sly smile.

Against all reason… you were hoping to see him again too.

[liri-sims]

Download at SFS or Box.

This is a default replacement for all the conversation icons: the basegame interests, the Freetime hobbies, the "tell story about" interaction that came in Apartment Life, and the pet interests that will sometimes turn up in a pet's dreams or thought bubbles. That extends to the UI elements, where the sim's level of interest in a subject or enthusiasm for a hobby is displayed.

I made this for my Test of Time challenge, because every speech replacement I could find was way too modern for my Stone Age hunter-gatherers.

My sample shots were taken against both Eddysims' high-res speech bubbles and Simborg's TSM speech bubbles, so you can see how they look against both. This was absolutely a deliberate choice and not just that I decided to switch my default in the middle but didn't want to scrap the screencaps.

As you can see above in the crabby toddler shot, I also default-replaced the motives, because I was tired of seeing the same "TOILET!" or "BED!" thought bubbles in the stone age as I'd seen in Pleasantview. A sim who's too hot will think about wanting a cool breeze, not an iced beverage; a sim who's on the verge of bladder failure (or wetting their diaper) will think about relieving themselves in a shrub; a sim in hygiene desperation will think about washing off in a waterfall, because of Marvine's waterfall shower. (If you see the manure pile, they want the place cleaned up.) This is a separate folder from the speech defaults, so you can choose if you want that or not.

This isn't perfect - some icons have some compression/color bleeding that I can't seem to get rid of, and the fuzziness of the era and setting (I don't call it the "Neanderthal" era but that is the official name) means that there are some anachronisms and inconsistencies baked in - the next stage is the Roman Empire, so any New World vegetation or animals shouldn't be there, but they're in a tropical setting, but if there are strays in the neighborhood they have domesticated cats and dogs, which Neanderthals wouldn't... My seven-year-old daughter, in fact, pointed this out and refused to let me have domestic cats and dogs in the children's speech pool. Kids talk about wolves and leopards instead:

The other samples of basegame interest discussion:

In my game, I have Almighty Hat's alien abduction mod, and Plantsims, so the discussion of elves and dryads fits right in. Instead of school or work, sims will discuss important survival skills and cultural knowledge: hunting, fishing, weaving, making tools and preserving food. And so on. It may not suit everyone's game perfectly, but it's better for mine than anything else I could find.

Credit and acknowledgments: The icons used here came from a variety of artists via Freepik and Flaticon. The Puppet Characters collection, Max.Icons, Monkik, and Eucalyp all got heavy use. I also got some from UltimateArm, though I'm having a hard time finding a link to their page specifically.

Without Sims in Low Space, this default wouldn't exist - it was from her novel default that I got the idea to use Flaticon as a source. I also referred heavily to other speech defaults, including Keoni's modern one, and the medieval replacements by ClstlDrmr83 and rugrat0ne.

And if you read all this, you may not want to scroll back up, so here are the download links again:

Download at SFS or Box.

Everything is compressorized and clearly labeled so you can delete any parts you don't want. Let me know if you use this, or if you run into any problems!