Notes From A Thief

“I prefer to say blessing.” She beams. “I’ve always tried to be an optimist. What about you? Feeling particularly blessed today?” She pulls something out from one of her pockets. “Got you something. Don’t eat this one. Or shove it up your nose. Or-- Anything. Just keep it.”

#eva arts #arts #SO BEAUTIFUL #headcanon

whereshadowsfall

Shipyard Aesthetics Evangeline Duval

kota-sethleel-blog

“…Family left without me. In hurry. It’s FINE! I will catch up!” She waved her arms dismissively, internally fearing being caught. “Just need gold, just a little so you don’t have to do all that work.” With the abrupt movements of her arm gestures, a few coins spilled from her tunic. The saxhleel froze in embarrassment. “Oh! Here are coins. What luck! I will go now.” She hastefully attempted to swoop the fallen septims back into her tunic but more fell out in the process.

Evangeline watched. She might have laughed if she didn’t find the situation so sad. This was the sort of life that had led her to the Guild, after all. And, admittedly, the Guild wasn’t terrible. She’d never had to kill anyone, and it was gratifying to watch rich bastards get what was coming to them. But it wasn’t exactly a glamorous existence, and she didn’t like seeing a kid having to steal to survive. And especially not when she was bad at it.

“Alright, so,” Eva slapped her thighs and lowered herself to be on the Argonian’s level. “You have a family, they left without you, and you need-- One, two, three...” She counted the Septims out loud, including the ones currently spilling out of the girl’s tunic. “Fifty-four septims to hire a carriage. I think you have enough. Why don’t we find that carriage?” She snatched her hand out, hastening to pick up the extra pieces before the girl could snatch them up.

“And maybe I’ll give some of these back to you.”

#kota-sethleel

kota-sethleel-blog

“I don’t need help. I just need horse thing with wheels.” She gestured with her hand, eagerly awaiting the flash of gold. She had to keep stringing along this lie. “They are in the lake village. The one south of here. Riff…tonn–Riften!”

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” She doesn’t mean to sound so disapproving, but she’s sure it comes out that way. “I have a horse,” She sighed after a moment, and withdrew her hand from her satchel. “And I live in Riften. I can take you home.”

#kota-sethleel

How lonely are you, Evangeline?

Honestly? Pretty. I’ve got Ana, but she’s two. And Nikulas doesn’t talk.

It gets rough. Yeah.

#Anonymous

kota-sethleel-blog

“Excuse me…” The small argonian’s voice squeaked, holding her hands out beseechingly. “Do you have a septim or too? I’m trying to get back to my family.”

#BRINGIN' OUT THE MAMA IN HER

“Yeah?” She turns at the sound of the small voice, and immediately frowns at the sight before her. It’s bad enough that people go hungry in Riften at all, but it’s worse when it’s the kids who suffer. Eva remembers what it’s like to feel hungry alone. She immediately digs into her satchel, light though it is.

“Where’s your family? Maybe I can help. You’re not lost, are you?”

I don’t know what’s stranger; The fact that this drink is called a white-gold tower or the fact that it’s making my tongue numb.

It’s not even tall.

#SOMEONE COME AND PLAY WITH EVA #don't let her drink alone

He grinned at that, moving to try and take her other hand in his, to lay a kiss on the back of it. “Lovely red cheeks, t’match yer lovely red hair! And blood! That, too. Probably other bits inside ye are red, but only ‘cos of yer blood.”

After a moment he stood, clucking his tongue, tucking the amulet into his breastpocket and mercifully releasing her hand. “Such humility, lass. Such sweetness! I see how it is, with ye little minxy mortals. Ye want t’be charmed. Wooed. Seduced.” A low chuckle. He retracted, giving another bow with an arm folded under his waist. “Ye need time t’think, and I need time t’win ye over. Oh, what a chase it will be! Assuming, ‘o course, I don’t get bored. Ah, romance. We’ll have t’see, won’t we?”

#themadgodspeaks #Eva is like well this can't end much worse than my last marriage

She barely hid a sigh of relief. Still, the encounter isn’t frightening. Stupid, but true. Her experiences with the Princes were brief, but she’d learned some vital information during that time: First, that it was important to show respect. Secondly, that it was possible to interact safely as long as you followed the first rule (and picked your Prince carefully). Also, don’t get cocky. She was failing there, probably.

Still, his kiss made her laugh. He did tend to do that when he wasn’t vomiting chickens or setting the street on fire. Pity that it was a toss-up as to which side of the Prince she got, but she supposed that came with the territory. Prince of madness, and all that.

“That’s right,” She confirmed. “I want to be romanced. I’ve done this song and dance before, and I can do it again.” She grinned at him. “I’m exciting,” She added. “I don’t get boring. You think it over,” She encouraged. “I’ll be here, waiting to be swept off my feet. Until then?”

“Find you a prince?”

Oh, does she even realize? Does she even know? Mortals are so delightfully strange, sometimes. He hardly needs to fish for amusement when they come to him like this, do they?

In a whirl of movement, he is changed - his dapper suit now shades of white and red, formal and shining silk and velvet. He bows low before her, raising a hand. The amulet in his hand resembles that of Mara but twisted, the gem in the center marbled shades of violet and gold.

Bowing on one knee, he grins.

“Why, I’ve found ye a handsome, wealthy, wonderful Prince right here.”

Oh, shit. That’s not what she meant to say. Or, rather, that was exactly what she meant to say, but she hadn’t thought before she said it. Shit. What did she do? What if she said no? Worse, what if she said yes? A wild thought crossed her mind; What if she did say yes? Sheogorath had, in all honesty, done more for her than any Divine had. She dashed that thought before it could evolve any further. What was she, mad?

She pressed one hand against her chest. “Flatterer!” She cooed. “You’re going to make me blush. Won’t all of your other subjects be jealous? I couldn’t possibly,” She clucked her tongue. “It wouldn’t be fair to them.”

“I did that once! At a ball. Lovely veal they had, just delicious. Such a cute little calf they must ‘o slaughtered, too! All the children wanted t’play with him. Until I ate him again. I can never resist seconds, y’see.”

He coughs, and once more something comes up - at first glance simply bile, but at second, at the smell, it becomes clear the substance he spews and spits is butter. After a few coughs he wipes his mouth clean on his sleeve, then flashes Evangeline a smirk.

“Now, lass! As I am a lovely, kind, generous prince, I feel yer kindly sharing such a meal ought t’be rewarded. What would ye like? Longer hair? A pet hare? A pet king, t’marry and pet and feed gold so ye can be queen of an exotic land? Or what about something fer yer sweet little Ana, hmn? I could give ‘er my blessing, if ye’d like.” His smile is far from lovely or kind. “She’s young. She’d take to it beautifully.”

#themadgodspeaks #eva's life is just wtf sheogorath

“...Well..” She frowns at the story. “What goes up must go down, or so they say. Even calves. I guess.” She’s more than willing to move on from that tale, however. And to ignore that he’s puking butter. Come to think of it, she’s learned to ignore a lot of things when it comes to Sheogorath. It actually does wonders for her patience; If onl she’d had the same when she and Varlaeus were still married. She wonders, briefly, how he’s doing. And she hopes, despite everything, that he’s alright.

“Sure,” She laughs after a moment, doubtful. “Find me a prince. I don’t need him to feed me gold, though. I’ve got a sensitive stomach. Like you,” She gestures at him. “Rich foods always make me sick.”

He snatches the half-eaten sandwich from her hand and in seconds, crumbs are flying, saliva is flecking away from his ferocious bites. He devours it, then licks his fingers clean and offers her a pleased smile, like a child given an extra cookie. Self-satisfied, smug.

“Thank ye kindly, lass.” Then his eyes bulge - he doubles over, coughing, retching, and out pops a fully-grown, beautifully red tomato. His jaw has to expand enormously to allow the vomiting up of a head of lettuce, and further still to release a loaf of bread. Finally, out comes a squawking, terrified chicken.

“Ooh. Perhaps I ate too quickly. Me stomach is feeling a bit unwell.”

She stands shock-still as the terrified chicken flutters past her face. She can’t say anything for a few moments, and debates between calmly walking away and staying to see if he manages to cough anything else up. Her curiosity gets the better of her, and the latter wins out. “Maybe the reason no one gets you food is because they’re afraid you’re gonna upstage all their party tricks by puking up a cow.”

“Ooh! Give it! Give it!”

“Damn!” She steps back, and then holds out the rest of her food as if offering it to a biting dog. “Damn, just take all of it. It’s got lettuce on it. And tomato. I don’t know why I’m telling you. Just eat it.”

No one's gonna make a deal with you if you say you're gonna eat their animals. That's bad business.

“I didn’t say I’d eat their animals. I said I’d eat me brother’s animal. Besides, most of ye eat one animal or another. It’s how ye celebrate! Ye roast a chicken or a quail or an ox and ye hack it up and share it, and is dear old Sheogorath offered a piece!?”

I have half a sandwich left if you want a bite. I think it’s chicken.