#i think i made her outfit look slightly more like a drow outfit this time. it is still blatantly my design. but yknow!

[rosecreates]

1/3 of the BG3 Unholy Trio Finalized Designs

[luckyjak]

essek week: day seven

For @essek-week day seven: AU. In this case, modern AU

TW: Homophobia, tw: implied transphobia, TW: Outing, Brotherly Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, religious conservative family trauma, Mighty Nein as Family, boys crying about feelings, Modern AU. 

most of the trigger warnings are implied not explicit but I feel the need to warn regardless

He’s late.

He shouldn’t have come at this point, but something keeps tugging at him, making him move forward despite the rain of the city and his general tardiness. Perhaps it’s the fact that he bought a gift that makes him keep moving, or maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t seen Essek in three years, or any number of reasons, but his feet keep moving, and he doesn’t stop.

When he arrives at the location his GPS tells him is the venue, he hesitates even as his hand is on the door.

It’s not a church, Verin thinks, smiling in spite of himself. Mother would have kittens if she knew Essek was getting married not in a church.

She'd have a conniption over the fact that he's marrying a man, too, of course. Not that she was coming to the wedding. No one from Essek’s side of the family was likely to come to his wedding, except for Verin, and it was that thought that gave him the courage to open the door.

At first, he wonders if he’s wandered into the wrong location, if he perhaps misread the invitation he received. But a quick glance tells him that, no, this is the right location. The planetarium looks like a garden exploded in it: there are flowers everywhere, and none of them match. But the chaos actually sort of works, aesthetically, as all of the flowers seem to glow with the night sky overhead.

He’s like, the only drow here, but the place is packed with people dancing and drinking. He tries to see if he can spot his brother anywhere, but before he gets too far there is a blue tiefling in his face.

“Hi!” She says to him, very bubbly. She looks like a princess, wearing a bright pink sparkly dress and a tiara. Across her chest is a sash that says Maid of Honor. “Are you related to Essek?”

He blinks at her, slowly. “I am. Is he, ah, still here…?”

“He is,” she bounces on her tiptoes, still grinning. He realizes suddenly that she is wearing matching pink converse shoes as opposed to heels. Another thing Mother would have a fit over, he thinks.

“Can I, uh, see him, or…”

He feels a large, rough hand on his shoulder, and he turns and finds himself staring at a very tall, pink haired firbolg. “We just want to have a little conversation, first.”

“I’m sure you are a very nice guy!” The tiefling tells him, still bouncing slightly. “But Essek said a lot of his family are dicks, so we just wanna check.”

“Yeah,” comes a new voice, and he turns to find a dark skinned human woman in a blue suit. She is also wearing a sash, although her’s says Caleb’s Best Friend Fuck Gender.  “We just wanna make sure you aren’t here to start shit. Say something homophobic or something fucked up on his wedding day.”

A part of him feels warm on his brother’s behalf. The Essek he used to know never had friends who would stand up for him like this. He blinks slowly, and tries to find a kind smile within himself. “I’m not our mother,” he tells the three friends of Essek, and hopes it’s enough to convey his sincerity.

The firbolg slaps him on the back. “Good enough for me!” He points in the general direction of the center of the room. “He’s dancing with his husband.”

He wanders, for a little bit, but he still doesn’t see his brother. Instead, he decided to amuse himself by counting how many other people are wearing sashes like the tiefling and the woman in the suit. The firbolg is wearing one, too, he realizes, only his is on backwards; it says Made of Tea. There is a halfling in a yellow dress who has a sash that says Mama Bear. A half-orc wearing a ridiculous pirate hat whose sash says Best Captain. An incredibly buff woman with dark hair is dancing with a purple tiefling in a dress, and both of them are wearing sashes, too. The woman’s sash says Made of Honor (Also Guns) while the tiefling’s says Best Dead. The woman dips the tiefling as part of their dance, and the tiefling immediately cracks a joke in someone’s direction, which is how Verin finds his brother.

No wonder he couldn’t find Essek at first. He hardly looks like himself. Gone is the quiet boy who used to hide up in his room, or when forced out into public, hid behind several layers of thick robes. Instead he’s dancing in the center of the room, and the center of everyone’s attention, too. His brother wears a silk white halter top that sparkles in the starlight. Verin thinks it may be slightly translucent, too, but he’s too far to tell at this distance. His top is tucked into high waisted dark trousers with shiny gold buttons on them. Unlike many of the women here, his brother is wearing high heels, and more makeup than most of the women, too. He wears gold eyeliner and thick purple and blue eyeshadow, but it looks nice on him. Makes him look ethereal, which, Verin thinks, might have been the theme.

The man Essek is dancing with is half a head taller than his brother, and human, too, from the looks of him. He looks like a wizard, Verin thinks, which is sort of a ridiculous outfit to wear to a wedding, but it kind of works for him. He wears a long, light blue cape, robe thing? But the top half of it is sparkly, woven with silver thread to look like stardust. The man’s hair is very long and a vivid red, going down past his shoulders, but it’s been braided in an elaborate French braid, with bright flowers woven into his hair.

He’s also wearing makeup, Verin notices and grins. A light blue eyeshadow.

The song they are dancing to ends, and the newly wedded couple kiss, and Verin turns away immediately so he’s not looking at them, like they’ve done something embarrassing. Shame sinks into the bottom of his stomach as he does so, and he feels himself flush with anger and embarrassment. This is Essek’s wedding, he tells himself. There’s nothing wrong with him kissing his husband.

Why is it so hard to unlearn every toxic thing Mother ever taught me?  Verin thinks, ashamed of himself. His hands grip the present he brought tightly, and he turns to try to find the gift table, to put what he brought there and then go home, and of course, that’s when Essek spots him.

“Verin?” his brother calls to him, so he stops and turns to face him. His brother looks so shocked right now, it’s hard to read any other expression on his face; Verin can’t tell if he’s happy to see him, or angry, or both. “You came?”

“You invited me,” Verin says sheepishly, although he knows that’s not a good excuse. They’ve not seen each other in three years. Part of that is on Essek; he left the family in a storm of anger and hurt, but part of it is on Verin, too. He didn’t reach out to him, even after Verin left the family, too.

“I invited the whole Den,” Essek says, gesturing around the room as if to point out the distinct lack of drow here. Most people are still dancing, but a few have stopped to watch his and Essek’s conversation; most of the people with sashes, he notices. “But they didn’t seem to make it.”

There’s so much Verin wants to say, then. He wants to say I’m sorry, he wants to say I was bigger and stronger. I should have protected you from them. He wants to say I’m trying to be a better person now and I should have contacted you sooner and it’s so hard, unlearning everything they taught us, how did you do it? And did you know Father died, the night you left?

But he doesn’t, can’t seem to find a way to make any of those words come out of his throat. The room is too crowded and too hot, so instead, he deflects. “Perhaps their invitations got lost in the mail?”

His comment causes Essek to grin. “All seven hundred and eleven of them, huh?”

“Seven hundred and thirteen,” Verin corrects with a gentle smile, his nerves vanishing with the familiar banter he’s missed from his brother. “Cousin Gwylyss’s wife had twins two years ago.”

“Those poor kids,” Essek muses. “I hope they don’t take after their father.”

“Oh, they absolutely do,” or at least, they did, before Verin left, too.

Essek practically doubles over with laughter, and when he stops laughing he smiles sharply at Verin, fangs poking out of his lips. “Did you know, Great Aunt Beszrima sent me a wedding gift? It’s just money, but it was still a surprise.”

Now it’s Verin’s turn to practically double over. “Did she really?”

“Oh yes. My theory is that the old bat saw the name Thelyss on a wedding invitation and sent money without looking any closer at it.”

Both brothers are laughing now, a shared joke no one else gets, and it’s so nice, he’s missed this so much. This connection, the shared past and the shared trauma. For a moment, they are just two brothers laughing at their extended family, and they can pretend that three years ago, Verin didn’t accidentally out his older brother to their religious, conservative family. That the fight that broke out between Essek and their father hadn’t turned violent. That, when the storm finally broke, both Essek and their father left, and the next time Verin saw their father he was in a casket, and he thought for years the next time he’d see Essek, he’d be in one, too.

His thoughts sober him up quickly.

“I’m sorry,” he says to Essek.

It’s not enough, it won’t ever be enough, but he doesn’t know what else to say. How can you apologize for not knowing any better? He was young and stupid and impulsive, but that’s not an excuse. How do you apologize for ruining someone’s life without realizing it?

But he doesn’t get the chance to say anything further, because Essek is doing something he’s not done in years, and hugging him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

He sobs before he can stop himself, and Essek is crying, too, he thinks, because he can feel the wetness on his jacket. He wraps his arms around Essek's back and hugs him tightly, sobbing because he feels too much.

“Enough of that,” Essek says shakily, pulling away. His makeup is smudged and runny, and he is trying, desperately, to stop crying. “It’s my wedding day. I’m not going to cry any more.”

Verin makes no such promises, and wipes his eyes on his jacket sleeve.

There’s a gentle hand on Essek’s shoulder, and the man he was dancing with earlier--his husband, Verin thinks--hands Essek a handkerchief without saying anything, although Verin can tell he’s been watching their exchange like a hawk. “Oh fuck,” Essek says, laughing as he blows his nose into the handkerchief. “Verin, would you like to meet my husband?”

“Of course. That's why I came,” Verin says, holding his hand out, wishing he looked less like a mess. “Verin Thelyss. Essek is my big brother.”

“Caleb Widogast,” the husband says, shaking his hand. The Zemnian accent is a surprise, but then again, Verin doesn’t know what he expected Essek’s husband to sound like. “Essek is my husband.”

Verin holds his head down, shame filling him again slightly. “I’m sorry I missed the ceremony.”

“It’s okay,” Caleb Widogast tells him with a soft smile. “Better late than never. We are glad you are here.”

“We are,” Essek assures him. He grabs Verin’s hand, and squeezes it gently. “I am so glad to see you again.”

Verin cries again, and squeezes Essek’s hand back. “There’s so much I’d like to say,” he says, his voice cracking as he speaks. “But I don’t want to ruin your wedding.”

“You wouldn’t,” Essek assures him, and squeezes his hand back. “You haven’t.”

“I think,” Essek’s husband looks around, and Verin notices suddenly that they are in a closed circle of people--all the people he noticed wearing sashes, the people who must make up the wedding party. They are circling them to give them privacy, he realizes suddenly, and he feels overwhelmed with gratitude towards these strangers who must love his brother so very much. “That perhaps, if you two wished to talk more privately, we could provide a distraction.”

Caleb’s Best Friend Fuck Gender  whistles. “We are very good at distractions.”

Best Dead smiles sharply with his fangs pointing. “Something of our specialty, you might say.”

Mama Bear wiggles her fingers. “Chaos crew.”

“Go on then,” Essek’s-- Caleb, Verin corrects himself, tells them, squeezing Essek’s shoulder. “We’ll find you later.”

Then a firecracker goes off (where did that even come from?) and people are shouting and running about, and Essek drags his brother off to talk, privately, for the first time in three years, and it feels, a little bit, like forgiveness.

[vaffaznculocolmpadrter]

OC Interview: Sparrow the Druid

Rules 1. Pick one of your characters 2. Fill in the questions/statements as if you are being interviewed for an article and you were your muse. 3. Tag people to do this meme

Holy fuck this is a lot of words for a lot of questions. I hope you enjoy this out of context hullabaloo i had fun writing it at least.

       As a mysterious journey brought our heroes to the lakeside city of Thrushmoor, a man decided he wanted to know more. More about this strange band of adventurers, who were traipsing about this dour nation of Ustalav and righting some of its many wrongs. After an afternoon of asking about town, he easily discovered the name of their inn. (Appearances such as theirs are not easy to mistake, especially a young lady of drow descent and a woman with what only be described as a ‘mane’ of impossibly red hair). As luck would have it, it was those very same women he chanced upon.

       He introduced himself as a writer, and told them of his plea; they were understandably confused. (The purple-skinned elf coincidentally played the part of the shrinking violet, while her companion could not have been any more her foil if she tried). The wild, redheaded lass towered over them, and after a few more explanations, agreed to speak.

      That interview is recorded here, exactly as it occurred.

What is your name?

Sparrow.

What is your real name?

*Sparrow ruminates for quite a bit before answering.*

You know… when a serial killer ghost uses names for his dumb ghost magic, and you see the word ‘sparrow’ appear in blood on the wall… I guess there really isn’t any other answer that matters.

Do you know why you were called that?

Nah, not really, though I’ve been called that for like, EVER. As long as I can remember, even… Huh… I wonder if little me ever knew.

Are you single or taken?

What’s that mean?

*Her companion Cylerra walks over and leans down to whisper something in Sparrow’s ear. A look of realization blooms on her face as she listens.*

Oh. Uhhh… that is. Hmmm. That first one sounds about right, I guess.

Have any abilities or powers?

Oh dude easy question. First off I’m a druid do you know what a druid is yeah yeah you know what a druid is. So I’m one of those. Oh. You want a bit more than that? Uh. I’m pretty good with fire magic and… what else. Oh! Oh oh I know I don’t look it but I’m pretty good at making magical do-dad thingies.

*Sparrow waves Cylerra over again,  points to the small ornate clip nestled in her white hair, and grins.*

See that? I made it. It’s cute as fuck too, right?

Stop being a Mary Sue.

*Sparrow silently squints, her mouth slightly ajar. She closes and opens it a few times before responding*

I’m. Going to assume that’s a bad thing to be. So… sure. I guess.

What’s your eye color?

Well, if you asked me a month ago the answer’d be some kind of grey… but recently we all woke up with some sparkly ass silver eyes after a weird divine magic butterfly dream thing. I think it’s pretty neat, seeing as all of us match now and stuff.

How about your hair color?

Oh! Okay so imagine the reddest red you’ve ever seen. Ever. In your WHOLE entire life. Got it? Now…

*Sparrow hovers her thumb just a centimeter away from her index finger.*

That’s how close my hair is to your reddest red.

Have you any family members?

Huh. Hmmm… now that i think about it, I suppose I got three different families.

*Sparrow begins to count on her fingers as she lists them off. She hesitates on the first finger, motioning with it several times before speaking.*

…there was- …there is- …there- fuck! There.

*Sparrow grows flustered, sighs, and begins counting again.*

Ma and Pa. The wolf pack. And the old green dickbag who taught me magic… There, that’s- Wait… actually no, sorry. I was being dumb for a second. There’s four.

*Sparrow’s mood brightens as she turns to see Cylerra, who meekly waves back in response before returning to her book.*

I have four families.

Oh? What about pets?

I suppose you mean that wolf pack I just mentioned. Like I said before, I consider them family, which is probably going to confuse a few people. I guess I could explain a bit. They’re family because, well… they saved my life. It happened when I was little… and when I needed them most.

*Sparrow averts her gaze toward the floor, and absentmindedly begins tracing circles on the table.*

Afterwards, I was… really, really scared. I didn't want to be left, alone... So I. You know. Followed after them… I don’t remember for how long. Or how far. But then, one day… I was just. There. With the wolves. Sleeping. And eating. And Playing.

*Sparrow glances back up just as tears begin to well in her eyes. Her emotional display startled her, and she quickly wipes her face with a hand.*

Oh, wow. Jeez, what am I  doing? My friends don’t even know those details and I’m just spilling them all over your dumb stupid shitty fucking notebook… Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you and your notebook dumb. Oh, I didn’t call you dumb? Well. I was thinking it, so. Sorry about that too, I guess… So, uh. Pets, right? Um, I have a silly little plant buddy I made with magic, does he count?

Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

Let’s see…

*Sparrow straightens up a tad and takes a deep breath.*

Relaxing. Hunting. Goofing off. Solving mysteries. Hanging out with Cylerra. Poking fun at Cylerra.  Exploring. Swimming. Watching my friends do the things they like. Drinking. Dancing. Eating- Oh yeah can’t forget about eating. Feeling mud between my toes. Listening to the forest. Meeting new people. Playing with fire. Star-gazing. Seeing Trey be bad at being serious. Sun-bathing. Making nifty magic crap. Sleeping. Fucking. Kicking ass. Fl- oh, okay sure I can stop if that’s enough.

That’s cool I guess, now tell me something you don’t like.

Undead come to mind for sure. I hate zombies I hate wights I hate ghosts I hate wraiths I hate werewolf ghosts I- Oh, yeah. And FUCK mummies. HOLY SHIT DUDE DO I HATE MUMMIES. Throw every single one of them into the garbage pit and set it on fucking fire please.

Ever hurt anyone before?

I think that’s like… part of being an adventurer, right? Like. If you are an adventurer and you go on adventures if you keep continuing to adventure, you are gonna hurt someone eventually. Punching or feeling wise, its bound to happen.

Ever….killed anyone before?

I have, yeah. Like, when I count it up, Ive definitely hunted plenty of animals and recently began killing a good chunk of undead, but they probably don’t fall under everyone’s ‘anyone’ category. I think it’s safe to say werewolves and cultists do though, so yeah. I have killed dudes before.

What kind of animal are you?

Well technically I can be basically whatever the heck i want, but I think you mean like, in a figurative way? Still though. Dude. I think it’s pretty obvious.

Name your worst habits.

I’m told I say things I shouldn’t a whole bunch. Like basically every day all the time. ‘Sparrow no you can’t say that, no Sparrow that’s inappropriate, Sparrow stop you’re offending them.’

*Sparrow sighes.*

What else… I get told I’m too loud. or wait, I don’t think that’s really a habit. Hmmm. Some people complain about how I eat? Manners or something dumb like that.

Do you look up to anyone at all?

Not that often. Apparently I’m pretty tall for a lady, so most of the time I’m looking down to people instead. I definitely had to look up to Gallows though, that dude’s hat scraped on door-frames sometimes.

Gay, straight, or bisexual?

Uh. Hmm.

*Sparrow counts on her fingers as she mouths a few words to herself. After several seconds, she quickly gives up .*

I don’t really know how this sort of thing works. Do amounts matter?

Do you go to school?

I’ve gone to a school once, when we visited Cylerra’s old one. But you mean like, going to school, like what she did. So no. I’ve never gone to school. And thinking about it… even if things had been different… I don’t think I ever would’ve had the chance anyways.

Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

*Sparrow freezes for several seconds, then laughs uncomfortably. She begins fiddling with her hair as an awkward silence fills the table.*

I’ve, uh. Never really… thought. About it. Before…

Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

Oh! Do kids pretending to be me count? Because if that does then yeah yes I do have fans. Man, those little pups were really sweet once the town finally unstuck themselves from their own asses and realized we weren't trying to ruin their lives.

What are you most afraid of?

Most afraid of? Hmmm. I guess... being unable to- to- Damn I don't know how to say this. Okay. Say someone I knew and liked was in trouble. Like, some really, really bad shit was going to happen to them and I’m seeing it as it happens. I'm afraid of when a time like that comes... and I can't even try to do something about it.

*Sparrow pauses.*

Wow. That was so serious I bet you wanted things like heights or dark spaces.

What do you usually wear?

I don't really got a signature outfit or nothing but you can bet you'll see me wearing this!

*Sparrow enthusiastically gestures to the wolf pelt slung around her shoulders.*

Do you love someone?

Well, I love my families. I love my friends and my pack and my. Parents. And I love my shitty teacher too, I guess. That's ab- Huh? What do you mean that's not what you mean? Oh. Oooooh. You mean like. How my Ma loved my Pa, and my Pa loved my Ma...

*Sparrow rubs her the back of her neck as she falls deep into her thoughts.*

... No. I don't really love anyone the way they love each other. And I'm not really sure if I ever will...

What class are you? (high class, middle class, low class)

I never cared about stuff like that. I never had to. I was the little girl of a hunter and a potion maker who lived in a house outside of town at the edge of the woods and we were the most happiest people in my whole wide world...

*Sparrow’s wistful stare is distant, and accompanied by a small smile. It lasts but a moment before her face turns sour and she shakes her head.*

Then I lived in the forest with a whole shit ton of wolves and a crappy old orc for a while. So. Low, I guess.

How many friends do you have?

I like to consider anyone who isn’t a jerk to be a friend. Life is a whole lot funner that way. But if I gotta name names... Kendra, I think. Zokar the tavern owner - damn I love that guy I kinda miss him. Grimsbarrow... Shit basically the entire town of Ravengro. That cool Crooked Kin circus we ran into. Barrister Kaple - hope he keeps growing that backbone we gave him. The Beast of Lepidstadt- Ah! See, I knew you were gonna give me a face like that. Nothing but the truth my man. Hmmmm. Oh! That badass at the lodge... Graydon! Graydon.

*Sparrow leans forward, hides her mouth with a hand and whispers.*

Now, I said I have a lot of friends, but I think Cylerra is my best friend. Don‘t tell anyone though it might hurt their feelings.

What are your thoughts on pie?

I like them. Especially fruit ones. Though Zokar’s meat pie was pretty good with some ale.

Favorite drink?

Oh, fuck. I don’t actually know... There’s so much good stuff out there and I’ve only had like a sliver of it.

What’s your favourite place?

Wow damn dude you keep asking all these hard questions. How can someone decide when there are so many places to choose from? ...Eh, I suppose I could say the woods I spent my whole ada- adu- ader- Sorry hold on.

*Sparrow swivels around and shouts Cylerra’s name at the top of her lungs. Cylerra yelps in surprise and the book she had been so patiently reading clatters to the floor.*

WHAT’S THE THING THAT’S NOT A BABY OR A KID, BUT ALSO NOT AN ADULT OR AN OLD PERSON?

*Cylerra glares at Sparrow, and begins to move one of her hands in an intricate fashion. Suddenly, small fiery letters appear out of thin air in front of Sparrow. As the word forms one letter at a time, it clearly spells ‘ADOLESCENT!’ But the moment the exclamation point appears, the entire array explodes with a loud pop and a large puff of smoke! Cylerra storms out of the room, as Sparrow is left with a soot-covered face.*

THANK YOU. So yeah I spent all of that thing in the same huge ass forest. I know that place in and out and up and down and basically any other direction you can think of.

Are you interested in someone?

Yeah I- Wait. Is this another one of those questions? Where I don’t understand it at first and it ends up being about sex or something? Yeah, I thought so. Looking for someone to fuck is not really on my mind considering the fact that I mmmmm-not going to tell you that because it would be dumb and get me thinking about it again and then get me worrying about it aga- MMMMMNH!

*Sparrow’s nostrils flare, and her face contorts into an expression of exasperation as she wipes the soot from it.*

Next question please.

What’s your bra cup size?

*Sparrow casually reaches into her shirt and gropes herself. After a squeeze or two, she removes her hand and shows it off.*

About that big.

Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

Oh oh oh I’ve never been to the ocean that’s the one with the salt in the water right? I really want to go! I want to see it for myself, hopefully I can drag my friends with me it sounds like a blast.

What’s your type?

*Sparrow’s face becomes stoic as her eyebrows raise.*

I think I know your game now, mister writer man. My type is people I like. Okay? Okay.

Any fetishes?

Huh? You mean those little charms you make that are suppose to ward off evil or whatever?

*Sparrow immediately drops her deadpan facade and taps a finger on her lips in thought.*

Nah, not anymore. The green geezer had me making them all the damn time when he first started teaching me. It didn’t even have anything to do with druidism he just wanted to waste my time. I wanted to run away so bad back then, but he kept finding me and dragging me home every time I tried. I guess I gave up after failing for like a year. I think that’s about when he starting teaching me for real.

Seme or uke? Top or bottom? Dominant or submissive?

I don’t even know what half of these things mean but I’m definitely not submissive, so dominant I guess.

Camping or indoors?

NATURE IS MY MIDDLE NAME OF COURSE I’LL ALWAYS PICK CAMPING also nature is not actually my middle name don’t write that down.

Are you wanting to quiz to end?

Yeah this took way longer than I thought you should really tell people that before you sit them down and vomit questions at them.