#rogue's bazaar

[roguesbazaar]

Process for Sewing the Dragon Guide’s Dice Bag! A little chaotic as I was still figuring out how to handle the camera while sewing. You can find more of my work at the Rogue's Bazaar on etsy!

[captain-hawks]

hellooo

wanderer (genshin) & deep purple

thank you 💖

scaramouche x reader

c: flirting, stubborn scara

“What?”

Scaramouche stares down at you, mouth curved downward in his usual frown as he watches you carefully run your fingers over the soft, silky material of the scarf he tossed into your lap moments ago.

It’s a deep, rich shade of purple with subtle gold accents of thread woven throughout—the adornments giving the piece the appearance of a dark night sky dotted with stars. 

“I thought you went into town for supplies,” you tell him, gesturing toward the basket held at his side, an assortment of goods he obtained from the streets of Sumeru City poking out from the open flap. 

He sighs, like even the mere thought of explaining himself is too troublesome in and of itself, placing the basket on the ground near the embers of your campfire if only to allow himself the freedom to cross his arms in disdain.

“I did,” he replies tersely, briefly glancing back down at the scarf in your hands, but as you go to look at his face, he whips his head up and stares off into the distance instead. 

“So then what’s this?” you pry, biting your lower lip at the dusting of crimson you swear has begun to creep over the planes of his cheeks. 

Tossing his hat aside, he roughly drags a hand through his hair, huffing in frustration as he plops down onto the ground beside you, his knee bumping into yours. He shifts away from you slightly, just enough so that you’re no longer touching.

“You never shut up about how much you like looking at the stars at night,” he grumbles, unceremoniously blowing aside a rogue lock of hair that flops over his eyes. 

Warmth curls in your chest as you rub your thumb across the beautiful silk, well aware that material like this certainly wouldn’t have come cheap amongst the vendors that you know to frequent those streets, particularly in the Grand Bazaar.

“I wasn’t aware you were listening,” you tease, purposely nudging his knee with yours, and he makes no effort to move away this time when you pointedly hold the contact. 

"I can still return it," he counters, reaching out as if to grab the purple material from your hands, but you catch his wrist between your fingers.

"Mm, no take backs."

Slowly, you lower both of your hands down atop your knees, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly before glancing back down at the fabric.

He reaches out, slower this time, a runs a finger over the golden thread.

"It reminded me of you," he mutters, picking up the material as he goes to put it on you.

(One day, this will become a ritual—his gentle hands carefully tying a knot in the scarf after it wraps it around your neck.

The warm, lingering kiss he'll tuck beneath the purple silk, pressed softly to your skin before he adjusts it back into place.

The easy, upward curve of his lips as his eyes meet yours.)

[sosuperawesome]

Starry Night Dice Bags // Rogues Bazaar

[tiredspirals]

Passing from shadow territory to arcane was not an easy journey.

Nestled between the two god's domains was the land of plague. The Scarred Wasteland and it's pestulant heart that beats kn the middle was not a place for the weak, it's denizens reveling in strength gained through strife. Disease and death was celebrated, at least in the sense that it uplifted those who survived the trials Plaguebringer inflicted on the land.

On the bright side, the skies had a consistent weather. Dry and warm, with no storms to contend with.

On the downside, being skybound did not save you from the constant wars that further scarred the wasteland. Beast on beast, dragon on dragon, leaving the sanctuary of a clan meant placing yourself on the forefront of an all out war. It truly was survival of the fittest, where wings of monstrous beings could easily blot out the sky as they descended on you. Indeed, brigands hungry for resources and plague ridden avians were constant threats to skyfairing ships.

Stars Aligned was by no means a fragile ship. She was sturdy, perhaps ready for war in another life, outfitted with a hard metal shell and a steel cage around her air balloons. Wing shredder ballistas lined the sides, ready for use against those who dared enter a dog fight with her. The weakness, Though, is her heavy set made her slower than lighter ships and slower yet compared to rogue dragons. She must be prepared.

The Sanctum of the Outcasts was the only stop for weeks around, and was one Rataskorn was fond of. In her days running wild with mirror packs, she could remember nipping at the heels of it's defenders when she was a spry pup, and recalled it's location well. Most would discredit the mirror's intelligence, but her memory was unmatched: she stood on the balcony of the ship, excitedly pointing every which way as she recalled even the smallest details of her life in the abiding boneyard.

So much fighting. So much blood. Good times.

The great airship touched down not far from the Sanctum, finding no trouble for parking in the endless space that stretched around it. Rataskorn bounded off, the voices of her peers making their to-do lists sounding like distant static to her. Her mind was long set. She knows what she must do!

She must find a suitable gift of the wastes for her beloved mate! This is more important than life itself. Yes, Hraes loved her sparklies and shinies. Shadow dragons enjoyed trinkets and curios, like the strange black birds that pecked at bodies. Yes, just like them! Like a strange black bird…

With dreams of Hraes wearing raven's wings, the mirror sped off across the arid land, the faraway cry of someone telling her to wait falling on deaf ears. Merchants of the Bazaar beware: a bull was coming for your glass shops.

[steel-and-fire]

Session summaries: (Part 3) The Night Stalker

And so, the party went to rest after two exhausting days without any sleep. That was the exact moment of vulnerability the 'Bagman', the giant creature that lives in the dimensional spaces created by enchanted bags, was waiting for.

For a reminder, and context, the party found a bag of holding with a distorted face in a store, and deciding to risk it, Horny the bard bought it. Alas, it quickly came to their attention, that some of his belongings started disappearing at night, and by chance came across a witch singing the legend of the 'Bagman', a terrifying night terror creature that prayed on unlucky travelers.

Through some... experimentation, the party realized that the Bagman did not need their bag of holding specifically, and could find its way to them through other bags, even when the holding one was locked away safely. In other words, they were cursed and there was no escape. That's why Ferenir made a basic plan for their safety, and they started sleeping together in the same room since then.

And so, that night, the Bagman made its move, crawling out of the bag and on top of Horny. Thankfully, Aramil is their eternal night guard, as he is an elf and devoid of the need for unconscious sleep. Seeing the gigantic creature lean over his friend, he screamed, waking them up, and drew his bow to strike the creature on the back.

It offered enough of a chance for Horny to run away and get behind Ferenir. Even though Ferenir was not wearing his armor and was much more vulnerable than normal, he was still by far the toughest thing in the room.

The Bagman decided to toy with everyone, still very confident, and clawed Aramil once tearing his chest apart and nearly killing him, and clawed Ferenir as well, who without his armor received the full blow.

It was far from enough to take down the dragon blood though, and he unleashed his new earth skill, awakened after their Feywild trip, hardening his skin, with rock formations covering him like armor. In addition, using his crystal blade that produces radiant light, he stabbed the Bagman twice, making him shriek in pain.

Horny proceeded to heal Aramil and blind the Bagman for a turn, giving us a huge swing in the battle tempo. The rogue shot the creature again, and the Bagman missed all his attacks on Ferenir with the blindness in effect.

Sadly, it seemed like every wound not made by the radiant blade was regenerating, and it was not a battle of attrition they would win, as the monster locked hands with Ferenir in a contest of strength.

That's when Aramil remembered the blade that Ferenir had forged for him a few days prior, a moon touched longsword. Drawing the sword, the room filled with moonlight, and with a powerful slash, he cut off the Bagman's hand. The creature shrieked in agony, and hurried back to the depths of the bag before they could finish it off. Even though it escaped, the party had won decisively.

Ferenir proceeded to threaten the Bagman through the bag's opening, before heading back to sleep, still exhausted. Horny and Aramil weren't in a good state though, and spent the night trying to calm their minds through the terrors of the last days.

Morning come, Ferenir noticed their upset state, and gave them an adventuring reality check...as well as some hope and understanding. It was the first time he actually opened up to them about his past experiences beyond just useful mentions, and it worked in making them feel more at ease, as well as strengthening the bond between them.

For the rest of the day, they took it easy. Ferenir visited the blacksmith to check on the progress of his ultra mega super flail, Aramil went to unwind with his new girlfriend, and Horny bought a Chihuahua with the soul of a lion... literally. Dawg is now a member of the party.

They visited the adventurer market, a bazaar event, bought some silly things and Ferenir checked on the wellbeing of the herbalist witch that was there as well, and arranged a tea and coffee date with her~

While their new missions awaits them the upcoming day, it is time for them to relax...

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

When I pick up the phone and actress Rebecca Ferguson greets me with a cheery “hello,” she sounds completely at ease. She doesn’t sound at all like a woman who’s been flying across the world to promote her new blockbuster film, Dune: Part Two, all the while spending six days a week shooting the second season of her critically-acclaimed Apple TV+ dystopian drama, Silo. Of course, I realize not too long into our conversation that this is in part because Ferguson is quite amiable. I also learn that there's also a small part of her that chooses to embrace the chaos.

While discussing her look for the final Dune: Part Two premiere in New York, she recounts the story of when she arrived in the Big Apple, much of the outfit was thrown together last minute. While talking about her hair (courtesy of hairstylist Blake Eric) Ferguson says, “We were running late, so he was running after me with the scissors whilst clapping and chopping into it. I love all of the chaos.”

It’s hard to imagine this comically haphazard image when you take a look at the killer result. For the red carpet, Ferguson and her stylist, Tom Eerebout, chose a gothic ensemble from Olivier Theyskens that featured a black bodysuit layered under a sheer cape gown with alternating panels of frilly lace and fishnets. Ferguson accessorized with a pair of glossy black thigh-high boots and stacks of dog chains, which her husband, Rory St. Clair Gainer, actually picked up at a local pet store. Meanwhile, her ombré locks, which extended all the way to her hips, added a dramatic final touch, as did her bright red lip and dark eye makeup. The ensemble screamed ’80s dark glamour, and Ferguson herself jokingly referred to it as “Madonna on crack.”

The Dune star was full of jokes during our chat, which helped paint a clearer picture as to how such a playful look came together. “I'm more Gothic. I'm edgy. I'm Scandi,” she says. “I'm not fluffy and, you know, bride-like. That’s just not me.”

The Dune: Part Two press tour has been full of bold showings, from Zendaya’s Stéphane Rolland dress with the pointed-pronged cutout to Florence Pugh’s side boob moment in her backless Valentino gown. However, none of the looks have been quite like this, and you can sense how free Ferguson felt in the ensemble.

“I think for me it was quite nice at the end here to be able to just break loose and think, No, f*ck it,” Ferguson says. “I'm going to go completely rogue and communicate something completely different. You know, [having the] freedom and the platform to do so.”

The stars of Dune: Part Two have certainly been breaking free with their red carpet choices, and it’s been a sight to behold. Ferguson notes that she’s surrounded by fashion showstoppers who shine just as bright even when they’re on their own. “You know, [you] can take everyone individually out, and they would [still] absolutely rocket,” she says.

But Ferguson, who plays Lady Jessica in the Dune series, certainly stands out on her own as well—and the New York premiere look was one of her most personal outfits yet. It’s clear that spur of the moment decisions can sometimes turn out for the best. “We literally just have fun, and sometimes you mess it up,” she tells me. “You know, everything isn't perfect.”

When I tell her that I did in fact love the look, she says that she's happy to hear it. But she adds, “It doesn't really matter as well because some people will like it. Some people won't like it. Some people will think it looks absolutely crazy and masquerades...but that's what's fun. The times that I kind of didn't really see myself because I was a little bit of a beige hideaway. That's not interesting. We're selling a movie...We're making fun for people to talk about and gossip about and hate and love. And, you know, that's what fashion is.”

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Breadcrumbs and Receipts - Meghan tells on herself about the coronation

TL;DR -- The Sussexes haven’t been officially invited yet but have learned their invitation comes with strings attached that they (but especially Meghan) don’t like, given a recent onslaught of Sussex PR tantrums. I believe this indirectly confirms someone at Buckingham Palace has put steps in place to prevent the Sussexes from going rogue at the coronation like they did at the Platinum Jubilee’s service of thanksgiving at St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Disclaimer: At the end of the day, all that will matter is what Charles wants. And Charles is notorious for promising one thing to the public and then doing the reverse.

On March 1, 2023, Buckingham Palace announced that the Sussexes’ lease on Frogmore Cottage will be terminated in June 2023. Omid Scobie spins this as “[b]arred from access to police security, there’s just one space that meets the Sussexes’ security needs when visiting the UK” and calls this a “cruel eviction.”

On March 4, 2023, Meghan’s PR begins to manifest an apartment in Buckingham Palace for the Sussexes.

On March 5, 2023, Scobie wrote for Harper’s Bazaar that “the couple have ‘recently received’ email correspondence from the monarch’s Buckingham Palace household regarding the [coronation].” He further goes on to say that details will be kept “private” and “a royal aide briefed Britain’s Times of London on Saturday that an invitation had been sent out.”

On March 8, 2023, the Sussexes announced that they were claiming Prince and Princess titles for Archie and Lili in a press release sent to People Magazine announcing Lili’s christening. 

On March 9, 2023, Marie Claire (a Sussex-friendly publication) publishes this article, citing the demands for the Sussexes to attend the coronation: 1) official recognition of Archie’s birthday, 2) staying at Frogmore Cottage, 3) balcony appearance, and 4) private security details.

What’s really happened here? The Sussexes haven’t been invited to the coronation. Not yet.

First, the coronation is an official state ceremony (though ”state” seems to be debatable these days). This means that the official invitation would not be issued by email. Save-the-dates, additional details, protocol requirements, travel arrangements, confirmations -- that would be issued by email. Not invitations. Invitations would still be issued in the traditional manner, on paper through the mail (overnight priority express mail, most likely).

Second, no one else has confirmed receipt of invitations. Only the Sussexes. If you look back to royal weddings and even The Queen’s funeral, people were announcing their invitations the moment they arrived. That’s not happening now. The official invitations probably still haven’t gone out but everyone who’s going probably already knows they’re going because they’ve also received correspondence from Buckingham Palace about the event. 

Third, why are the Sussexes demanding to stay at Frogmore Cottage when they still hold the lease through June? Scobie (and all of the American Sussex-friendly publications but none of the major British publications) claims that Eugenie now lives at Frogmore Cottage. Why does Eugenie living at Frogmore Cottage preclude Harry and his family from staying with her? Surely the cousins can work it out between themselves, especially if Harry is the tenant through June. So technically Eugenie is staying with the Sussexes, which means that the only person Harry and Meghan need to make demands of is Eugenie. Not Buckingham Palace.

This means there’s something greater at play here. The palace’s “correspondence” at the beginning of the month probably wasn’t the invitation. It was probably instructions that included their lodging or accommodations in London should they attend the coronation. And given the tantrums that have happened since then -- leaking of the “cruel eviction,” implying an invitation, claiming Prince/Princess titles, and the Marie Claire demands -- Harry and Meghan were probably told that they could not stay in Windsor and that alternative arrangements in London were being made for them, probably a hotel or guest rooms at St. James’s Palace (where most everyone who lived at Buckingham moved to for the refurbishment).

Why would Charles do that? Well, because of the fiasco at the Platinum Jubilee.

For the jubilee, the Sussexes stayed at Frogmore Cottage in Windsor, which is about 45 minutes away from central London. For the service of thanksgiving at St. Paul’s Cathedral, Harry and Meghan were meant to meet with the rest of the extended royal family at Buckingham Palace and take the motorcoach over to the cathedral. They were late, missed the motorcoach, and had security take them directly to the cathedral, which led to Harry and Meghan getting virtually their own procession for the service and ultimately resulted in a late start to the service as then William, Catherine, Charles, and Camilla’s arrival was also delayed.

To put it simply: I think we’re seeing indirect confirmation that Charles is forcing the Sussexes to be more “team players” this time around. Meaning, no private, exclusive motorcade to Westminster Abbey for the coronation - they’re getting lumped in with everyone else like they were at The Queen’s funeral. Whether it’s by carriage, car, or motorcoach, they’re going to be “one of the many” rather than “one of the few.” I think we will see a procession for The King and Queen, a procession for The Prince and Princess of Wales that includes the other working members of the family, and a third procession of the remaining family members. Maybe Harry and Meghan can lead the pack, but I think there will be some kind of visible exclusion of the Sussexes separating them from William and Catherine. Especially since Meghan is still trying to negotiate the terms of their attendance at the coronation through her PR. 

[dailycharacteroption]

Nameless Shadow (Rogue Archetype)

(art by Anubish on DeviantArt)

The life of a bandit is a tough one. You essentially give up the comforts of civilization to live in the wild and prey upon travelers, hoping they have food or at least enough gold to spend on what merchants will deal with you for food and supplies.

And then of course, there’s the problem with guards and mercenaries protecting the merchants and wealthier travelers. Most have their armor and weapons on display as a clear deterrent to your sort of banditry, but some instead hide in plain sight among the caravans and merchants, only to suddenly toss their cloaks aside and stab you in the middle of shaking down the caravan. How unfair and duplicitous! It’s almost like they’d rather get rid of the bandit problem entirely by killing you instead of just scaring you off like some kind of vermin…. Ah.

Indeed, today’s archetype is all about a sneaky sort of guard that hides among others before striking down foes. These nameless shadows by their very nature are much more ruthless than your average mercenary guard (and that’s saying a lot) since their goal is to lure in and destroy bandits rather than simply drive them off. As such, they’re most likely in harsh regions where robbing them of their supplies can be a literal death sentence, taking the kid gloves off and tossing them into a dumpster a whole city block away, if you’ll excuse the butchering of a metaphor.

Also, fun thought, you could also adapt this archetype for being a royal guard hiding among the attendants of a powerful person as well.

Their skills certainly lend themselves well to traveling abroad while under the cover of anonymity, and we’ll see how!

While they are not vigilantes, these bodyguards maintain a civilian identity as either a merchant or other nondescript member of the caravan or community. This disguise only improves with time, allowing them to slip in and out of it quickly, and more easily fool others. What’s more, they can use it to completely take a foe off guard when they finally strike, though obviously if the target survives, they will know the truth.

Later on, when using ranged attacks, they are exceptionally quick to conceal their weapon and blend in with the crowd after a shot, possibly confusing their foes about where attacks are coming from.

This can be a fun archetype for a campaign focused on a caravan or a city with a bazaar, however, it’s worth noting how specialized this archetype is, giving up nearly all rogue talents to be really good at blending in and ambushing bandits, thieves, and the like. If your campaign is more traditional or involves a lot of situations where disguises won’t help, it can be difficult to justify.

Now, an inevitable question with this archetype is that, while it is useful for being the guard of a caravan or a bazaar or maybe even a travelling royal, one has to wonder what use it would be to your average adventuring party? Well, the obvious answer is to center a campaign around those roles, with the party being entertwined with such a group, or maybe even royal guards of an NPC VIP or perhaps even having one of the party members be such a royal. Alternatively, perhaps the character was dismissed from such a position but continues to make use of those skills in their new line of work, perhaps as a mercenary guard or even a seamlessly disguised assassin.

The court system of Ten’Helectuan supplements their traditional bailiffs with guards hidden in the very crowd that watches each trial. This practice arose long ago during a succession crisis that threatened to turn the lizardfolk civilization on its head. Now, on the off chance someone is foolish enough to try and liberate the accused during a trial, they can expect drugged blow darts or the sharp crack of a reinforced club cane to the back of the skull before they can make headway.

The party’s investigation into a telgrodradt appearing in the city’s sewers leads them to asking around the local bazaar. However, any mention of the beast causes the merchants to clam up about the whole thing. Finally, a seemingly innocuous merchant suddenly approaches the party, revealing themselves to be one of the secret guards of the market. They confess that the merchants know about the beast because they’re covering for one of their own that released the half-alive horror by accident, but they can’t abide anyone getting hurt by the beast or any undead it creates.

Kouchi Village is remote, but it has managed to make a name for itself by having a strong relationship with kami and youkai alike, drumming up traffic for tourism and trade. However, with that influx of wealth come bandits seeking to make a profit. However, as a result, many tour guides have been practicing underhanded fighting to get the drop on these ruffians.

[sunlessea]

❛❛ IF I WERE YOU, i'd give up talking, 'cause soon you'll be a dead girl walking.

giselle is an envoy zailor visiting london as an ambassador from venice, a city finally sunken, half drowned, into the 'neath at no behest of the masters of the bazaar. overrun with rogue fae who refuse the masters and their ilk passage into their claimed city, they've established sunken venice as their territory, making them yet another faction sharing the zees. / artist.

[stalwart-spirit]

10. — nostalgia

Finally getting to all of these prose asks everyone sent to me during my recovery. Thank you so much again! <3

It had been months since anyone had set foot on the sandstone streets of the Muthru Bazaar, streets once bustling with life, thriving. Colourful draped fabrics making up the myriad market stands lining the way, a spread of sounds and smells undoubtedly chaotic to anyone not used to the typical daily hustle and bustle of the lively communal spot. The same faces, despite the vast population, knew everyone either personally or by proxy of another. Tight knit, a community holding together despite all odds.

Now it sat in tatters and rubble, burning blue ceruleum casting a cold glow across the once warm bazaar, it laid empty. A former shell of what it used to be. 

Most of anything of worth left behind had been picked by wandering thieves, treasure hunters who cared not for the sentimental value for what they stole, thinking of the many lives lost in the ruthless bombardment.

Saeed clicked his tongue in distaste at the thought of it.

Wandering farther, it wouldn’t take long to make it further towards the Palace Square, even more so a ghost of its former glory. Not much had been seen of it since the initial occupation, what with it being closed off to the public and being used by the Empire to flex the viceroy’s vast wealth and ego. Even still, the hyur could remember the bright banners of the Suncrest fluttering proudly from his childhood, the large scale and beautiful performances put on by those working within the palace, set in place by the royal family to entertain and uplift the spirits of their people and show pride in their culture.

Not too far was what once stood the city’s own aetheryte, now a shattered mess of crystal cast upon the cold stone. It takes a few hesitant steps before Saeed approaches, leaning down and collecting a small shard, letting it rest in his palm. He can no longer feel its usual warm thrum, whatever aetherical magic which sustained it, now depleted. 

Long gone were the days of his and his group’s youth. Meeting here each day to commit all sorts of mischief or even larger scale disruptions to show the level of their disapproval for the Empire’s treatment of their people. Hastily running to the square after a job well done, no doubt pursued by following guards and using the crystal to escape into the ruddy depths of Lowtown, evading consequences once again.

“Hells…”

Tahsin finally breaks the silence, smoothing a hand down his face, glancing at Farah as she joins the other, her carbuncle coiling around her shoulders in an act of comfort.

“Irreparable, I’m afraid.” The arcanist hums, taking a fragment of crystal for herself, holding it up to the midday sun. “I can only assume the same for the others as well.”

Saeed feels a hand squeezing his shoulder as Tahsin comes to join them, taking a chunk of crystal in turn. “Bet you this was the first place they dropped things. Cut off access for those wantin’ to run when they rained hellfire.”

The rogue remains silent as he turns the small shard of aether crystal in his hand. This is what connected everyone, kept the city together… 

“... Keep them. One for each of us.” He could see it now, tied with leather, hanging around his neck. “Even if it’s lost its purpose, it’ll keep us together, in a way.”

Farah holds out the small piece of her own, one eye closed, inspecting it against the lancer now leaning against Saeed’s side. “An earring for you, maybe. I know a goldsmith that'll live up to your tastes.” She smirks.

A loud laugh bubbles up from Tahsin's chest. “Hey, you know I'm a man of quality!” 

Even now, years on from their childhood and standing in the rubble of their home, that pang of nostalgia struck strong once more, a tight tug within his chest. Momentarily he forgets the wreck around them, left to be merry in this moment. Bittersweet.

If only they could go back to those halcyon days.

[writingomegas]

hello hello I'm very excited for you to officially start this, I can't wait until I see what you come up with👀

11) "You look awful. What happened?" X fluff with Tighnari!

Alpha coming home after a very intense battle and Tighnari taking care of themmm jshsgs

Thank youu! -🌒

We love Tighnari in this household. There's a little more hurt/comfort than anticipated, but I tried to add some humor to balance it out.

CW: Non-specific injury mention and medical treatment

Some days you really hated being a Matra.

You groan as you drag yourself back to your home. That group of Fatui agents were no joke, and you are sore all over. You hiss as you step wrong and a jolt of pain goes up your leg. This certainly isn't the most injured you've ever been, but it still wasn't very tolerable either.

As you open the door, you prepare yourself for the lengthy lecture sure to follow from your mate.

Tighnari turns towards the door as it opens, and he immediately notices how you're standing and clutching your side. He sighs and comes over to help you walk to a chair.

"You look awful. What happened this time? Fungi? Eremites? A rogue Sumpter Beast?"

"That was one time!" You whine. "One time, and you've never let me forget it."

His tail swishes as he grabs his medical supplies and starts treating your injuries. "Because it was quite hard to miss the very large, very loud beast charging at you, yet you still somehow did."

You pout playfully. "I was distracted by your dazzling beauty! You were shirtless, honey, shirtless!"

He rolls his eyes, but his tail moves quicker in a way that lets you know that he likes the compliment. "Your situational awareness is quite terrible for a Matra."

"My situational awareness is fine when I'm not distracted by your very attractive chest."

He stops bandaging your abdomen and raises an eyebrow, looking your body up and down. "Really?"

"This was not an ambush. There were Fatui harassing some merchants, so I stopped them."

He continues, not saying anything in response. His expression was neutral, but his scent was displeased-sad-worried. Your heart ached, knowing it was all for you.

You grab his hands and look in his eyes. "Hey. I'm right here. I'm okay. A little bruised, but nothing too bad."

Tighnari's ears twitch, and his expression finally shows his concern. "I hate doing this. Patching you up."

"I know, and I'm so sorry that I keep doing this to you honey." You squeeze his hands gently.

"...I love your big heart. I just wish it didn't keep getting you hurt." He rests his forehead against yours.

"Hey, I do good deeds that don't result in personal injury. It's why all the aunties at the bazaar love me," you joke.

A small smile lightens up his expression. "That, and your muscles."

You playfully gasp. "Are you insinuating that the aunties only love me for my biceps and chiseled abs?"

"They do love your kind heart, but they like looking at you more. I've heard them talk."

You laugh and lean up to give him a kiss. "Too bad for them. I'm spoken for."

He kisses you back with a hum, then pulls back to finish his treatment.

"Now, as punishment for being reckless again, you get to tell Collei why you're injured."

Your heart sinks in despair. "I can't do that! She always looks so sad and disappointed. It's like I kicked a puppy, honey."

"Then it should teach your the error of your ways," he says as he packs up his medical supplies.

"Honey, she's gonna break my heart. It's agonizing."

"Suffer, then."

"Honey!"

[roguesbazaar]

The Lunar Wanderer's Dice Bag An odd one they were. More focused on the moon above them than the road ahead. It was lucky they never tripped into a ditch or a beast's den. Or perhaps it wasn't luck. Perhaps it was that guiding moon which protected them.

[thiefpodcast]

Why aren’t you subscribed to and listening to “THE THIEF” yet?

You listen to full-cast audio originals, right? You like Downton Abbey, right? You like roguish low fantasy, right? You like antihero assassin heroines, right?

[farore-or-less]

youre writing a florist Link fic? share pls!

No! It's actually a roleplay I have with the lovely @keikbird ! This was her amazing idea, not mine, and I so enjoy writing with her!

The entire roleplay is available to read on our discord server where all the chillest zelink nerds hang out! If you're on discord, are over 18, and would like to join, you totally can! DM me for an invite. If you're in there already, it's under the forum of the roleplay-bazaar and it's called Arrangement.

I play Link and here's a little clip:

She was like a flower, one that blossomed on the cusp of spring. Something bold but soft, like purple hyacinths that trumpet spring's arrival, or a bloom as fragrant as Lily of the Valley. Sweet and subtle and surprising to note just how poisonous to the heart such a delicate flower could be. Rosy flesh speckled with beauty marks and lashes that batted, fluttering like leaves.

Flowers usually don’t talk though.

He must’ve scared her by how she jumped away from the plant she was touching. She wasn’t the first customer to stroll in, thinking the plants were off limits to interact with. On the contrary, he encouraged it.

When her eyes danced around the shop and called it beautiful, Link fell into his typical routine of bashfulness. “Thanks, it was my grandmothers,” he said, sticking a hand in his apron as the other itched at the nape of his neck—only to feel a leaf stuck to his skin. Inconspicuously, he gripped the rogue plant piece in his fist, then shoved it into his other pocket of the apron, and now both his hands were fidgeting in there. Goddess, he was so caught off guard by her.

Thank Hylia for his buddy.

It was always a delight to see a customer’s face light up at the sight of Hess. Usually, the old dog never got out of bed unless he smelled food—it was quite unusual he’d get up from his afternoon nap just to say hi, but here he was; slowly sauntering up to the girl and sniffing her knees, wanting to be pet.

“That’s Hess, it’s short for Hestu. My grandmother named him after my grandfather because she thought it was funny,” Link chuckled. “He won’t bite or anything, you can pet him.”

Her previous fidget with the watch on her wrist made Link check his own. Right. It was noon. If she was for his mid-day appointment, this woman was pretty and punctual.

“Are you just browsing, or are you my 12 o’clock appointment for wedding bouquets?” If she was, this girl would make the most beautiful bride Link had ever made bouquets for.

[celynsdream]

Dragon Age Origins Modlist (Overhauls)

Even though I've never been asked to post this, I have spent months working on complete lists of all the mods I run for my DA metaverse (and corresponding games). All mods are linked in preferred order to work, with required mods clearly marked. Hope y'all enjoy and find use of this! Actual list is below the line.

These first few mods are general mods I highly recommend running any new game of Origins with, as it will save your butt:

The CharGenMorph Complier in particular is a life-saver, working for both DAO and DA2. It effectively removes the hunting-and-pecking of editing character creation features in Origins and 2 and automates it into a simple application! CharGenMorph is also required to run many hairstyle and physical changes for both DAO and DA2, which will be clearly marked below.

Required:

Large Address Aware Fix

CharGenMorph Complier

General:

AddItem_Script

Angel_Console_Fix_Fonts

Awakening Materials in DAO

Upgrade_Items

Overhauls:

Grey Wardens of Ferelden - DAZIP

GWOF Scripts

Glimmering Griffons

Improved Atmosphere - Be sure to only use ONE (recommend Of Ferelden)

Of Ferelden (Improved Atmosphere)

Dragon Age Redesigned

Dragon Age Origins Unofficial Remaster

Replacements:

ALL REPLACEMENTS MUST BE INSTALLED ON A NEW GAME!!!!

A Noble Approach (NPC Armor/Clothing Replacements for Human Noble)

RogueLass' Fashion Bazaar - REQUIRED (RL’s Fashion Bazaar - Medium Armor; Heavy Armor; Massive Armor; AND the Cousland Replacement for Bastard King armor)  - DAZIP

RL's Thedas Arsenal - REQUIRED (Warrior PC, Rogue PC, Ser Gilmore)  - DAZIP

RL's Witcher Emporium - REQUIRED (Oriana)  - DAZIP

Mages of Ferelden (Mage Robe Replacements)

Loincloth Fashion - REQUIRED  - DAZIP

RogueLass' Fashion Bazaar - REQUIRED  - DAZIP

Bug Fixes:

TerraEx’s Silverite Mines Fix

Dain’s Fixes

Awakening Riot Scene Persuade Fix

Goblet De-Gobbler - A Joining Chalice Fix and More

[swanmay-that-got-away]

Some thoughts on Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser after finishing the first 3 volumes:

Before I go on, would I recommend FnGM: Yes but don't read every story. I have completionist brain when it comes to media, do not be like me, read the ones everyone recommends. A short list would be Ill Met in Lankhmar, Jewels in the Forest, Thieves' House, Bazaar of the Bizarre, Lean Times in Lankhmar, and Stardock. If I do a reread, it'll look a little like that.

FnGM makes a really bad first impression. The Snow Women, and frankly a lot of FnGM stories, are unusually misogynistic even for their time period. The Snow Women has parts I would generally recommend, but I can't, because they're enmeshed with the most intense hate wife bullshit that it shunts me out of the narrative constantly. This is a repeated problem in the stories, with not infrequent rape threats, treating women extremely badly, and just being generally fucking awful? I know FnGM are supposed to be bad people but this is literally everyone in every story all the time. If you're doing a FnGM read, I would recommend skipping The Snow Women, Claws from the Night, Their Mistress The Sea, and the last two books entirely. Those are the worst offenders.

Instead of that, you should start with Ill Met At Lankhmar, which is the first story in the collection order that is both well written and not pointlessly offensive. It's a banger! And it sets the stage for what's so good about FnGM anyhow: two shitty rogues who are a little too witty, fucking up despite their competence. When FnGM shines, this is usually what it's doing. I don't even recommend swinging back to read the first stories later, although the ski fight at the end of Snow Women IS pretty cool.

Leiber's prose is as good as people say it is. I think it's a lot like Moorcock's prose where it's a little annoying by default, until it's ON, and then it's some truly stellar prose that you will remember for a LONG time, and then you fall in love with the default prose too.

Swords Against Death is easily the best single volume of FnGM. It contains the most iconic FnGM stories and it really shows the duo doing their best schtick in the best way. For my money, Jewel in the Forest is my favorite story. That probably says something about me (that I'm really into weird, mindbending, abstract big reveals and care very little about swordplay).

People sleep on The Cloud of Hate. It rocks. It's helped by its short page count, it could've easily gone on past its worth. It doesn't, so the metaphor lasts JUST long enough to feel really cool. Absolutely no idea how you'd use it in a TTRPG, despite my reflex to do so.

Lean Times in Lankhmar feels like a Pratchett novel built for me. I don't really like Pratchett? It always feels like he's taking an extremely long time to say anything and then when he finally says what he wants to say, it's an anticlimax, and the joke doesn't land for me? Anyway, LTiL's pagecount is brief enough that it doesn't do that. If every Pratchett book was like this, I'd be a big Pratchett fan.

I genuinely can't get over Their Mistress The Sea. It's only 5 pages but it has the single most grotesque line in the first three books, which is to the effect of "maybe the witches are mad they weren't raped?" Between this and the pedophilic predilection of Mouser in the later stories, one wonders about Leiber. He says Fafhrd is based on him and Mouser is based on a friend and MAN that is an awful thing to say about someone. I also, disagree, from what i know of the man he was more like Mouser. So.

On the whole, a neat series. Deserves classic status. I need to say "do not read them all, do not read them in order" again, because you really really shouldnt do that. I think I narrowly prefer Elric? I think I'd prefer FnGM in the "Leiber respects women" timeline.