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[Nilfalasiel]

Corker wrote...

My eyes read "Jonathan Rhys-Meyers" but my brain thinks "John Rhys-Davies."





He seems like he'd be more fun on a bus ride, too.

Lol. That good ol' Salah. And Gimli too.

[Tellervo]

Tellervo wrote...

Okay, it's technically Tuesday where I am, and I'll be busy as hell today/wednesday, so....

Challenge time!

prompt:Zevran's a real smooth talker, yeah? Give me a situation he needed or thought he wanted to talk his way into, and turns out things are not as advertised--he needs to talk his way out. Art/fic/radio drama/interpretive dance/toolset--whatever. If you can make it work, do it. Time limit is one hour, because this one might be tricky in some media.

deadline: by 4 pm eastern US on Thursday. Judgment Day is Friday.

prize: uh... I can't draw for crap, so I guess I'll write you something? That's not a great prize, I know, but that's what I can do. No restrictions, except that the content you're requesting can't be illegal to produce in my neck of the woods.

Minaleth wrote...




Summary:
Zevran talks Morrigan into telling him which room is Warden's tonight.
He takes some wine and finally hopes for nice evening *chat*. Alas
instead of sexy half naked Warden he discovers Oghren  who is suddenly
in very talkative mood.
Bonus: Morrigan doesn't know either which room it is since Warden is hiding from them both ... for now.
The end.

Sarah1281 wrote...

Alright, here's my entry:


Angélique
Amell gave a girlish giggle and kissed Alistair on the cheek before
tossing her long golden hair behind her and bouncing away.
 
Alistair
watched her go with a silly little half-smile on his face before
starting and furiously scrubbing at his skin where his fellow Warden’s
lips had touched.
 
Zevran watched the sight, amused. As he had
suspected, Alistair was furiously fighting his own attraction to their
illustrious leader and he had to admit, he was rather curious as to why.
Was it the mage thing? Wynne’s ‘you’re not old enough to have a
girlfriend and save Ferelden’ thing? The ‘I was almost a Templar and had
resigned myself to celibacy’ thing? There was only one way to find out
and it would certainly make the long walk to Orzammar pleasanter.
 
“Girl trouble?” he asked, the innocent concern in his voice belied by the sly smirk upon his face.
 
“You have no idea,” Alistair muttered, still trying to get any trace of Angélique off of him.
 
“True, I do not,” Zevran replied easily. “I would like to, though.”
 
“Why?”
Alistair asked suspiciously, wincing a little as rubbing at his cheek
became painful. He reluctantly lowered his hand. “So that you can laugh
at me?”
 
“No, no,” Zevran assured him. “So that I may help you. And then, perhaps, laugh at you. But at least you’ll get some advice, no?”
 
“I
suppose…” Alistair said slowly, clearly wavering. “And it’s not like I
can ask anyone else. Leliana would tell me to go for it as she loves a
love story, Wynne would tell me not to risk it as I’m a Grey Warden and
have responsibilities, Sten would probably order me to use real words,
Angélique’s dog hates me, and can you even imagine what Morrigan would
say?”
 
“Yes, everyone else would be most unhelpful in this
matter,” Zevran agreed readily. “So why don’t you tell me all about your
problems?”
 
“I don’t have ‘problems’, per se,” Alistair began. “I have one problem and her name is Angélique.”
 
“Oh?” Zevran inquired, raising an eyebrow. “It didn’t look that way earlier. She even kissed you goodbye before leaving.”


“And you saw my reaction to that, didn’t you?” Alistair asked grimly. “Or rather, my delayed reaction?”
 
“Yes, you looked pleased before acting like you thought she had poisoned you,” Zevran confirmed. He paused. “Do you think that she poisoned you?”
 
“Oh, if only,” Alistair said with a heavy sigh. “I hate Angélique. I really do.”
 
“It
didn’t look that way earlier,” Zevran said dubiously. “Not that I
judge, of course. Sometimes hate sex can be the very best kind.”
 
“I
was always raised to think that sex should only be done between two
people that love each other very much,” Alistair said stiffly. “And it’s
a good idea if they’re married, too. And by ‘married’, of course, I
mean ‘to each other’ and not having a sordid affair.”
 
“Ah, but you were raised by the Chantry,” Zevran pointed out. “And incidentally, Chantry sisters…not nearly as inhibited as you might think. In Antiva, those vows really tend more towards guidelines anyway…”
 
“I am not hearing this,” Alistair said, staring quite determinedly at a tree in the distance.
 
Zevran
decided to take pity on him. “Ah, but we were talking about Angélique,
no? What is it about her that makes you uncomfortable?”
 
“She’s the most vapid, oblivious, self-centered person I’ve ever met. Yes, she’s pretty and yes
that’s affecting me but she’s just not worth it,” Alistair growled.
“And she seems to have decided to set her sights on me. I really have no
idea what to do.”
 
“Surely you’re exaggerating,” Zevran said
confidently. He may have only entered Angélique’s company a week and a
half ago but surely the beautiful woman who saved his life couldn’t be that bad?


“I’m not,” Alistair insisted. “It’s like…you know how I hate Loghain, right?”
 
“I think everyone who has been in your company for longer than five minutes is aware of that little tidbit,” Zevran said dryly.
 
“Well
say I had my sword pressed against Loghain’s neck and one of his men
had taken Angélique prisoner and threatened to kill her unless I let
Loghain go,” Alistair said, trying to find the best way to explain the
situation. “My first instinct would probably be to kill Loghain and then
thank Loghain’s man. I would never actually do that, of course, because
it would be wrong and because Angélique is the only other Grey Warden
in Ferelden but, Maker forgive me, I would want to. Desperately.”
 
“I’m really not seeing a problem here, Alistair,” Zevran confessed.
 
“You don’t?” Alistair looked surprised. “I see several.”
 
“Well,
your murderous inclinations towards your fellow Warden might be a tad
disconcerting if you can’t control yourself but you’d think your years
in Templar training would be good for that if nothing else,” Zevran said
dismissively. “And you have a choice here. You can either ignore your
attraction to Angélique and continue nobly suffering as you pine away
for your one true love to come alone-”
 
“Which sounds like what I have been doing,” Alistair interrupted. “But you don’t have to make it sound quite so…”
 
“Quite so what?” Zevran prompted.
 
“Quite so pathetic,” Alistair finished.
 
“I
am doing nothing of the sort,” Zevran claimed. “If you feel that what
you are doing is pathetic then perhaps you should consider a change?”
 
“But…I don’t think it is,” Alistair disagreed.
 
“Then
there should not be a problem. But your other option, if the waiting
around and hoping your attraction will go away option doesn’t work out,
is to just give in and have angry hate sex until you get over her,”
Zevran announced. “Or until one of you kills the other, whichever comes
first.”
 
“Didn’t I just tell you that I couldn’t do that?”
Alistair asked, aghast. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering to talk to
you at all if you’re not going to listen.”
 
“I was listening,”
Zevran insisted. “It’s just that you told me what you were raised to
believe by the Chantry you’re no longer a part of and I don’t really see
why that must dictate the rest of your life.”
 
“Well…” Alistair looked uncertain. “I really don’t know. It’s kind of complicated.”
 
“Tell
me all about it,” Zevran invited, hoping he was about to hear something
good he could feel free to tease the former Templar about later.
 
“Well,
I suppose it all goes back to my childhood,” Alistair mused. “My mother
died in childbirth and my father hardly loved her, their…liaison was
just for fun. I never even met the man, you know, but I can’t help but
think that if they had loved each other then I would have had a far
happier time of it. And then there’s Arl Eamon. He refused to take
politics into account when he married and even though his wife is, when,
Lady Isolde and I don’t see how anyone could want to marry her
they seemed very happy together. And he was always impressing upon me
the need to not fool around with just anybody and to definitely not
carelessly reproduce even though I was only ten when I was sent off to
the Chantry. That, of course, couldn’t have helped my issues on the
matter given their take on sex and I spent many of my formative years
there. And then, of course-”
 
Zevran watched in horror as
Alistair seemed intent on regaling him with his entire life’s story.
Sure, a little teasing material was always good but this seemed like the
kind of thing that would occupy him all the way to Orzammar and he
suddenly found that he wasn’t quite as desperate for a diversion from
the walking after all.
 
“That…that’s all very fascinating,
Alistair,” he interjected the moment the other man paused to take a
breath. “But all this Chantry talk…it’s much more Leliana’s specialty
than mine, I suspect.”
 
“But I already told you that-” Alistair began to protest.
 
“Yes,
well, just have her try to get to the root of your sex complex,” Zevran
cut him off. “She’s probably the most qualified among us to do that
anyway and the most knowledgeable about the Chantry. You can feel
free to come back and ask me about Angélique in particular once
Leliana’s helped you with your issues if it’s even still a problem. Who
knows? You might just figure out what to do on your own before then.”
 
As
Zevran practically shoved Alistair Leliana’s way, he hoped the almost
Templar would be able to work it out on his own. Either way, that was
hardly his problem anymore, he decided as he sidled up next to Morrigan,
his mind racing for the best way to go about melting Morrigan. He had a
bet to win, after all.

Corker wrote...

An hour of writing, but a bit more time
spent thinking and rereading the source material.  Plus two more minutes
to copy-paste it here and add in the italics.

Antivan Fiction

"Pure
Tellari Swamp deathroot in that bottle; this one, Korcari Wilds.  Both
are excellent, but I know some people prefer one over the other. 
Fifteen silver for either, and that is the price for 'family.'"

Zevran sniffed in disdain and indicated a third bottle filled with a brilliant blue liquid.  "And that?"

"You have an eye for quality, my friend.  The House of Crow's own special mix, only improved even further.  Forty silvers."

"Forty
silvers?  Lorenzo, I have just come from Antiva City.  Do you mean to
tell me your Trevino alchemy can compare to the best the capital has to
offer?"

The poisoner looked indignant.  "I learned my craft at
the feet of Maestro Giovanni Serrano.  I would - I have staked my life
on the quality of my goods.  You will find nothing better in Antiva
City, I swear."

Zevran raised a skeptical eyebrow but shrugged
one shoulder.  "Very well; forty silvers.  If it works as advertised, I
shall return for more."

"Excellent, excellent."  Lorenzo shuffled
to pluck the crystal bottle from its perch.  "Will you stay for supper,
my friend?  Teodora, our other guest, is quite lonely..."

"Which was Teodora?  The one painted like a ****?"

"That's Julia.  My wife."

There
was a moment of awkward silence, but Lorenzo did not seem inclined to
take offense.  His wife *was* painted like a ****, after all.  "Well,"
Zevran finally cleared his throat, "alas, I have a prior engagement this
evening.  But I thank you for the offer."

Lorenzo shrugged. 
"Hurry back, if you want more of this," he hefted the bottle before
handing it over, taking the silvers with his other hand.  "It sells
quickly."

_______

Dinner with Maria had gone splendidly. 
She was a cagey creature he had been pursuing for weeks, but dinner
seemed to be the tipping point.  He charmed, he flattered, he danced
with her.  It was not unexpected that she claimed to be tipsy from drink
and asked him to escort her home.

Her home, that was
unexpected.  The villa sprawled behind the iron gates, an elegant
mansion fit for a nobleman.  And above the gate perched a wrought iron
crow, black wings outstretched.

"You naughty minx," he forced a
smile and a laugh.  "This is your home, truly?  And here I thought this
was Maestro Ualla's dwelling."

She waved negilently at the guards and the gates swung open.  "It is.  Is it not usual for a woman to live with her husband?"

"Your... husband?"

"As if that bothers you,
Zevran Aranai."  She stepped forward and glanced over her shoulder,
beckoning.  "The stories have made it out here to Trevino, you know."

Husbands
in principle, no; Crow Master husbands whose loyal guards were watching
him enter the villa in the company of his wife, yes.  That bothered him
very much. 

So did offending the wife of a Crow Master.  He
sauntered ahead, mind working furiously.  He could escort her in and
take his leave the very moment he thought of a plausible excuse -
hopefully, that would be quickly enough that the guards couldn't begin
to suspect that anything had happened. 

Maria perhaps expected
this.  They were scarcely through the door of the dark and sleeping
house when she twined one hand in his hair to pull him close; the other
went straight to his belt.  He didn't dare break the kiss too soon or
show too  little enthusiasm, but when she got the buckle undone and
pulled the belt free he had to grab at the waist of his trousers to keep
them up.  He needed time and space and he needed it now.  "I hate to
break the mood, amora," he confided in her ear, "but there was rather a lot of wine drunk tonight, and..."

Maria
sighed, rolled her eyes, and gestured imperiously at a nearby door.  He
darted a quick kiss at her neck.  "Just a moment," he insisted, and
hurried to the garderobe.

When he emerged, pants in hand and a
brilliant excuse on his tongue, Maria Ualla was lying unconscious on the
floor, the small crystal bottle that had been in his belt pouch still
in her hand.

-------

The pounding at the door woke Lorenzo
and Julia both from a sound sleep.  "What?" demanded Julia sleepily. 
"What at this hour?  Lorenzo, I have asked and asked - "

"Silence,
woman," he grumbled, pulling himself out of bed.  "Will you tell the
House of Crows no?  Coming, coming!" he shouted.  "Cease or you will
bring the guard, you fool!"  But the pounding continued as Lorenzo made
his way from his quarters in the back to the front of his shop.  "Who
goes?"

"Open up! Lorenzo, open!"

"Who is that?  What are you thinking, coming at this hour, with this noise?"

"Zevran Aranai, Lorenzo!  I need one of your cures, presto!  This woman, she is dying!"

"You
botched a job and brought it here?  Are you a rank novice?  Go, go,
leave!  There is a midden four blocks south, leave her there!"

"She
is Maestro Ualla's wife, Lorenzo, and she was last seen with me! 
Open!"  The pounding on the door became thumping as the assassin outside
began launching himself bodily at the door.

"Madman!  I do not
know you!  I will call for the guards!"  Lorenzo cast about frantically,
looking for something to barricade the door with.

"And I will tell them you sold me the poison!"

"Bastardo!" 
Lorenzo yanked open the door; behind him, Julia was beginning to whine
and wail.  "Maker's mercy, what happened?"  Maria's mouth was flecked
with bloody foam and her eyes rolled in her head.  It was not the usual
effect of the toxin.

"She drank it.  Andraste's blood, I left her alone for a few minutes and when I came back...  who drinks poison, Lorenzo?"

The alchemist growled in his throat.  "Lay her down here.  Mages do, when they think something blue in a bottle is lyrium."

"Mages... she's an apostate?"

"She's dying, you idiot!  Drank an entire bottle of... let me see... this might work..."

"Hurry!"

"Here." 
Lorenzo thrust a plate at him, a small smudge of gritty paste in its
center.  "Apply that to a blade and put it in her vein."

"I'm not a barber-surgeon!"

"Nor am I, and you are the fool who let her drink the poison!  I am not going to stab Maestro Ualla's wife!  You are!"

"Fine, fine... where should I..."

"A vein, a vein!  No matter which one!  Do they not teach you these things?"

Of
course, of course they did... Zevran forced himself to calm; drew a
dagger and scooped up the paste on its tip.  The inside of her elbow
and...

Maria jerked, spasmed, and suddenly bolted upright, screaming.

"Are you all right?"

Wide-eyed with shock, she gestured dramatically and a bolt of white-hot energy slammed into Zevran's chest.

"Right enough," Lorenzo said.

soignee wrote...



Just under an hour's work, i sort of hate it.

Korina1982 wrote...

I think this challenge thing is a great idea. There's a lot of nice stuff being posted.

I
couldn't think of anything besides the first earring convo, but here's
what I have. One hour of writing, plus the time to fire up the game and
kill Taliesen so I could hear the actual conversation:

Edit: Then another 2 minutes to fixed borked formatting!

-------------------------------------

Zevran stopped in the open doorway to Keiran's room and stared at the earring in his hand.

It's just a thank you for freeing me from the Crows. That's all. It doesn't mean anything.

That was what he told himself, but what was this odd feeling in his chest?

Keiran,
of course, choose that moment to turn around and notice him standing in
the doorway. “Hey Zev,” he said warmly. Then he smiled, in that way
that he never did for anyone else, and that odd feeling intensified.
“Did you need something?”

After steeling himself, Zevran strode
across the room with more confidence than he felt. “I wanted to give you
this,” he said as he held out his hand.

“An earring? I appreciate the offer, but you really don't need to give me anything.”

“I
know, but I want to. I acquired this earring after killing my very
first mark, a Rivaini merchant prince. In fact, this was about all he
was wearing at the time. I took it to mark the occasion and have kept it
ever since... and I'd like you to have it.” He said all this as if it
was no big deal, but Keiran's reaction surprised him.

“Then I will accept your gift, Zev. Thank you.” The other elf looked positively elated.

Uh-oh. The Warden was clearly getting the wrong impression.

Zevran
quickly clarified, “Don't get the wrong idea about it. You killed
Taliesen. As far as the Crows will be concerned, I died with him. That
means I'm free, at least for now. You can do whatever you wish with the
earring... sell it, wear it, or whatever you'd like. It's the least I
could give you in return.”

Keiran's face fell. “Oh. So... it's
just a reward for helping you?” he asked quietly. Was Zevran imagining
things, or did the other elf look hurt by what he'd said?

“I...
look, just... just take it. It's meant a lot to me, but so have... so
has what you've done. Please take it.” This was embarrassing... he'd
almost said something foolishly sentimental. Zevran hoped the other man
hadn't caught his slip...

But when Keiran raised an eyebrow and gave him an odd look, Zevran knew he wasn't fooled.

Zevran cursed silently in Antivan. This was going all wrong!

After a long silence Keiran answered, “I'm sorry, Zev, but I just can't take it... not if you say it means nothing.”

Greatly
annoyed with himself, the elf in front of him, and the situation,
Zevran gave up. “You... you are a very frustrating man to deal with, do
you know that?” he said angrily. “You root around in corpses and dig in
piles of who knows what in search of treasure, but you don't want this?
Fine! You don't want the earring, you don't get the earring.”

Zevran stormed off, leaving a stunned Keiran behind. Damn that man for making him feel so strange!

payroo wrote...

I was just replaying Haven with Zev in the party, and he said that infamous line "Ah,
quiet insular communities. There's always something nasty going on
behind closed doors. I hope it involves chains. I hope they ask me to
join in."



text in case my writing is illegible:
Kolgrim: YOUR BLOOD WILL FEED ANDRASTE!!ELeventyone!
Zevran:
Er, when you heard me say "I hope they let me join I meant I hope they
let me join the cult!Ah, not as a sacrifice, as a member! (A live
one...)

After much difficult deliberation (you guys turned out some quality stuff here), this week's winner is Payroo!  It was close, though.  Payroo's image captures a perfect instant of hilarious and alarming "DO NOT WANT", I think we can all agree on that.

[Sarah1281]

Congrats, Payroo! 

[Charsen]

i loved those crazy eyes and zevran's oshi expression.

[Korina1982]

Congratulations, Payroo!

[Korina1982]

Oops, double post.

Modifié par Korina1982, 07 août 2010 - 12:42 .

[Corker]

Huzzah!



*still wants to see a reverse Perseus/Andromeda version with the ruins and the High Dragon. :> *



*just a little bit of peril?*

[jenovan]

'grats, Payroo!

[payroo]

Thanks so much! Oh boy, do I get to choose my prize now?

Tellervo, if you could write me a little ficlet of Zev actually having
fun/enjoying a moment as an Antivan Crow back in the pre-Rinna days I
would be a happy camper!



So I gotta wait until Tuesday to post the new prompt huh? *plotting mode on*

Corker wrote...

Huzzah!

*still wants to see a reverse Perseus/Andromeda version with the ruins and the High Dragon. :> *

*just a little bit of peril?*

@corker: LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO D=



(apologies to Titian.)

[Minaleth]

Congrats payroo!

I bet Tiziano would love your reinterpretation, LOL XD

[maradeux]

congratulations Payroo!

And your Titian interpretation is ingenious! (especially the hat)

Modifié par maradeux, 07 août 2010 - 07:29 .

[Shadow of Light Dragon]

...I don't know if I'd be in a hurry to unchain Zev once he's rescued... >.>

[payroo]

Haha, Titian (Tiziano?? darn translations) is probably turning in his grave...

though Corker was the one who suggested the pointy princess hat!

[Charsen]

he borrowed the hat from Princess, of course.

[Corker]

As I commented over on your album: It is ~GLORIOUS~.

[Minaleth]

payroo wrote...

Haha, Titian (Tiziano?? darn translations) is probably turning in his grave...
though Corker was the one who suggested the pointy princess hat!

Titian in most languages, in my stubbornly spelled Tiziano, same person anyway.

lol @ quanari demasked

Will there be new prompt at tuesday?

[soignee]

if payroo doesn't say anything by monday or passes on doing the [jacob voice] prizzzzzzzzze[/jacob voice] i'll set it =)

[Sarah1281]

soignee wrote...

if payroo doesn't say anything by monday or passes on doing the [jacob voice] prizzzzzzzzze[/jacob voice] i'll set it =)

I think that a day and a half ago or so she asked if she was supposed to wait until Tuesday to set the next prompt so I think she'll have one.

[maradeux]

Sarah1281 wrote...

soignee wrote...

if payroo doesn't say anything by monday or passes on doing the [jacob voice] prizzzzzzzzze[/jacob voice] i'll set it =)

I think that a day and a half ago or so she asked if she was supposed to wait until Tuesday to set the next prompt so I think she'll have one.

It's only a few posts above (where she posted her marvelous Titian reinterpretation. )

payroo wrote...

So I gotta wait until Tuesday to post the new prompt huh? *plotting mode on*

btw - Titian / Tiziano... in German: Tizian. It's crazy. 

[soignee]

I TOTALLY KNOW HOW TO READ GUIS HONEST



*goes back to eating crayons and drawing*

[Minaleth]

what? where? crayons? *is confused* also I want to draw something but have no idea what. I think I just wait for tuesday.

[Charsen]

you could draw yourself waiting for tuesday.

[payroo]

Ah hell, I thought of a prompt already.

CHALLENGE 3!

Prompt: Gold/silver bars.
This could be why he likes them, what he does with them or uses them for, or just Zevran sitting on a pile of bling. Let's set the time limit at 45 minutes.

Deadline: 5 pm Pacific US on Thursday. Judging will commence Friday.

Prize: Sketch of whatever you want~

[Charsen]

awesome idea, payroo.



in celebration of fixing my toolset (which wasn't broken, just borked due to broken video card. literally it fried while making a miss/zevran scene which is technically nsfw. i just got a pretty nice GXT460 so that should last me a good while. hehe)

[TanithAeyrs]

nice pic Charsen. And congrats on the new video card.

Argh, page topper - runs to find art.

I really like this pic by Marinelli.

Modifié par TanithAeyrs, 08 août 2010 - 07:05 .