Back on my bullshit

Spoiler

It had been hours, now, and she still couldn't stop turning the little sculpture around. Part of it was simple hypnotism, watching the light dance over bronze and silver edges nearly as soothing as the colors she still ran through empty crystal sometimes; but mostly she had no clue what it was supposed to be. Quietstep's court-gifts had all been proper: snacks, little tools, practical things that showed interest without being overly presumptive. But this? Besides the magnet in the base its primary worth was just in the metal used (and wasn't that a waste?), but it was too complicated, too clearly worked on just to melt down like any other scrap. And asking Jetski was right out; he'd been so happy with simple unquestioning thanks, praise of design. Whatever that design was supposed to be.

It didn't matter, probably. It was supposed to be a gift, and that would be taken as intended. What to do with the actual object, though? Congessi flipped it again, watching the wild play of light along its prongs. It would get crushed in subspace, to be sure, but it wasn't like there were shrines to Nesh around to pass the blessing on through. And what about the magnet? That had to be put where it was for some reason. She tapped it idly against one finger, the strength that would keep it attached to a flat surface unable to hold such a small contact. What to do, what to do...

 

bless you gess

 

..But what IS it?

 

intended as a 'hair' decoration. for purposes of being pretty.

 

the intention was tiny foil-origami flower hair head decoration, but gess is a swamp gremlin with no concept of purely decorative art :P

 

best gremlin.

 

Spoiler: between campaigns 1 and 2

The afternoon has been a mundane-- if unpleasantly cold-- one, spent largely trailing after Atish'an and Lirresh from one stall to the next, bearing the former's ever-increasing pile of new acquisitions and gently, awkwardly trying to entice the latter into conversation. Wanting to talk to someone is... strange, after so long in silence and simple answers, but. Lirresh should talk. He would probably have been better for talking, after-- just after, but few enough were even willing to tolerate a tal-vashoth, nevermind converse with one beyond what was necessary for work to be done. This town is more open, sees more trade traffic-- case in point, there's a cart a few spaces up with Rivaini colors, even so far south. A large grey bird hunches uncomfortably on the roof, feathers ruffled against the cold, and he feels a pang of kinship for the thing. He dumps Atish'an's latest acquisition-- a heavy fur cloak that he's half-sure she bought just to say she could-- back over her shoulder, snorts at her squawked protest, and walks over to at least visit the bird.

It is, at least, interested in his horns; he snorts, shivers a little at the rasp of an inquisitive beak, but keeps his head still. The actual wares of the cart are just as much a draw, now that he's over here. The bright, patterned fabrics he wouldn't know what to do with, but-- there is a box. There are several boxes, close enough to identical as makes no odds, and all marked on their lids in Qunlat. And Trade, and what he can only assume is Rivaini, but the Qunlat is accurate, and that is startling. He looks up at the... young woman, presumably, minding the cart, and finds her paying only a shopkeep's idle attention while she notes something down in a ledger. "See somethin' y'like?" she asks, accent startlingly similar to Atish'an's if a bit thicker. "Bonita's not for sale, mind."

He blinks, and the bird-- Bonita?-- squawks and returns to her perch. "I didn't think she was. The... herbs." That's the right word, isn't it? It's at least close enough to earn him eye contact. "Senvaar, kurkun, saa-soh... ira, daana..." To her credit, she doesn't bat an eye at the proper names, sorting out exactly which ones he's asked for almost before he's done saying them. Each box turns out to hold a collection of smaller boxes, solidly sealed with the names of their contents imprinted both on the top and in the wax. Watching her work, he goes out on a limb. "With this selection, do you happen to have red tea?"

"What you see's what we got, serah." It's said with the flatness of long repetition, and he nods and subsides; it was only a hope. The price she names... is a good chunk of the reward they were given for Mythallen's demise. But coin is meant to be used, and he can't eat it besides. The girl seems surprised when he doesn't argue, but it's not worth thinking on. He thanks her instead, tucks the assortment of boxes securely into his pack, and follows the sound of angry elf back to Atish'an.

 

I don't have One More longfic in my focus today but god if this summary isn't a delight

 

Does My Origins Account Keep Getting Compromised Or Does EA Just Think Playing Inquisition For 40 Hours A Week Is "Suspicious Activity": a novel

 

l....... link.....?

I mean it didn't try to reset my password for all the DA:I playing i did in the first week after christmas last year so?????

 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14680800/chapters/33918897
still not in a longfic mood but For You

 

solas: "Has the Anchor changed you? Your mind, your soul?"
ghilan: "I mean how much can we blame on the magic glowy hand and how much can we blame on babysitting half a continent for six months straight" ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

 

tfw you read a fic and can Immediately tell the author has no firsthand experience with the thing they're writing

 

she's definitely going to stay with Ghilan, but I am inordinately fucking entertained by the idea of Acanthus and Fenris having to deal with a very persistent tiny knife elf who Wants To Help Murder People

 

IT'S FUNNY AS HELL TO IMAGINE NGL
Make Fenris Deal With Weirdass Elf Children
(bc poor mirrors has to deal with me shoving athim at theo and fenris)

 

this book is just interesting enough that I want to see how the plot unfolds but it keeps slapping me in the face with a bunch of really gross uncomfortable shit
dislike

 

if the obligatory het couple actually gets together I'm gonna puke
Let Her Refusal Mean Something

 

Spoiler: shitty book is shitty

oh sure when the shitty straight boy gets turned down he just needs to WORK HARDER and MAKE HER UNDERSTAND
but the gay guy who's just trying to be friendly is CREEPY for even LOOKING at this guy he's been travelling with for an entire fucking year

straight male authors is2g

 

let's just
take the concept of "weird demonic and/or fae vaudeville"
and give it to an author who isn't drowning in weird entitled white boy assumptions

 

What's the book called?