#*liars

[morrigan-sims]

Lord Adrian Lockwood & his bodyguard, Sigmar Passeone

I got tagged to make an alternate version of one of my sims, as per the challenge created by @elderwisp!! Of course I had to choose my boy Rook! Here he is being an evil scheming bastard, under the advice of the BBEG, Dr. Purity. 💜

Details of the AU and a bonus pic under the cut!

This is part of an AU that's lived in my head for a very long time. It's essentially an Evil!Rook AU, and the short version is that Rook never meets the party and ends up becoming the political pawn and right-hand man of Dr. Purity.

(If you're curious, the reason is that he ends up in the Black Desert Kingdom instead of the Feywild and meets Sigmar before the party is even formed, then is eventually told his true identity and recruited into Dr. Purity's cult, the Children of the Enlightened.) He takes on a much more social/political role, taking his father's seat on the council of Arborcea and meeting with other leaders of the Leyland Confederation in order to make sure that the Children of the Enlightened's goals are being met. (He mostly hates it, but he'll do whatever Purity asks of him.) In this set of images, he's participating in a series of meetings hosted in Svarga, home to Minister Consin White, who is all to happy to help hide the real Dr. Purity. Since the Sigmar corpse-puppet never joins the party in this AU, he is never destroyed, and is able to be used as Rook's advisor and bodyguard (not that he needs the latter). At the end of it all, Rook ends up as the penultimate boss of the campaign, commanding a crew of nightwalkers instead of his canonical pirate crew. The party kills him. (But since they've never met him, they have no emotional attachment to him, and thus no qualms about in the slightest about killing him.)

Purity is very proud of his favorite pawn Rook.

They're both unhealthily attached to one another (much more so than in canon, since Rook meets Sigmar immediately post-Wolf and doesn't have the party to act as an emotional or moral buffer) and, in short, this is the universe where they make each other worse.

[six-improbable-things]

talking about an idea I had for an event in the Evil Rook AU:

me: "I feel like [Purity showing up in the flesh to help Rook] would be a Bad Idea because someone could be trying to lure him out, but I feel like he'd do it anyways." DM: "Yeah, Purity is no stranger to bad ideas that screw him over when it comes to Rook. So that's pretty much in the same ballpark." me: "That's the price of caring about someone, I suppose. Especially if you're both toxically codependent on each other." DM: "Literally yes. What they have is sweet and anything but good."

BONUS: me, to my sister after the "no stranger to bad ideas" comment: "[Purity] basically unloaded a machine gun into his feet in canon with how much he was shooting himself in the foot to help Rook, so..."

[sockmonstergotstyle]

So after that poster of Ash and Clare saying he's aged since LoS, I'm 100% expecting every member of the fandom to want to fuck him by the end of qoaad

[morrigan-sims]

Ace of Swords

Upright: breakthrough, clarity, sharp mind Reversed: confusion, brutality, chaos

This idea has been rotting in my head for a year and a half now. It originally came to me in July 2024 after the reaveal of Sigmar's true identity.

Over a year later, the mental image of Sigmar stabbing Rook in the chest became reality in-campaign when we were deep underwater (but not in water) in the temple of a demon lord. The demon lord (who Rook's life force is keeping imprisoned in another dimension) separated Rook from the party and took the form of Sigmar.

His recreation of Sigmar was uncannily accurate, down to the dialogue being used, which makes sense since Sigmar had also been cursed by Furicifer in the past, so he'd been in his head.

Rook passed the "test" with flying colors, never letting "Sigmar" hit him again after that, and quickly dispatching him. But while the physical damage toll was relatively low, the emotional one was very high.

I'm so glad I was able to make another edit before the end of the year, and more importantly finish this idea that's haunted me for so long.

A bit from my write-up of the scene:

Sigmar got to his feet. “I may have lied to you, but I never lied about wanting to protect you.” He took one step towards Rook, then another. Rook stood, frozen, just as he had when Sigmar’s corpse had staggered its way towards him. Just as he had when Sigmar had died. “Rook.” He took another step closer. “Come with me. Come where you belong.” “No, I-” Rook broke off as he felt something appear behind him, pressing against the backs of his legs. He turned his head, trying to catch a glimpse, and saw that some kind of stone table had risen up out of the ground. Before he could get a better look, pain blossomed in his chest, causing him to stumble. Instinctively, he reached out, grabbing Sigmar’s arm for support. As he looked in Sigmar’s direction, Rook saw a flash of silver and froze. He stared blinking, trying to process what he was seeing. The familiar silver blade of a rapier in Sigmar’s hand. The same blade that was now buried in his chest. Sigmar hurt me. Sigmar is trying to kill me. His mind was racing, desperately attempting to come up with another explanation. He shook his head, trying to clear it. This had to be fake. Some kind of illusion. But the pain in his chest from the movement was very, very real

[memento-morri-writes]

Rook & Sigmar - Liars

RHVBNGD #1

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Pawns

Reunion No. 2 (Burning Down)

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+ Bonus - Rook & Zara

[memento-morri-writes]

Rook's Horrible, Very Bad, No-Good Day

(Aka, just one part of Rook's first Horrible, Very Bad, No-Good Weekend. (he's had two of those.))

I posted a small portion of this yesterday, but I'm just so obsessed with this scene, and I figured it's time I shared a slightly more complete version of it so you guys have a little bit more context. There's actually a lot more because a whole 'nother very intense conversation happened after this one, but that's for anther time. Enjoy getting stabbed in the heart several times in quick succession! pov: Rook wordcount: 1.7k character(s): The Liars [Rook (D&D), Sigmar (NPC)] canon status: canon session rewrite trigger warnings: mentions of death, suicidal behavior, and self-harm; implied self-sacrifice. (yk, usual Rook stuff.) summary: Rook wakes up after collapsing in the middle of a tavern. His mentor, Sigmar, interrogates him about the circumstances leading to his collapse. Note: I can only take credit for some of this, since the dialogue is as close to a direct transcript of the dnd session as I could manage. You can thank my amazing DM for all of Sigmar's gut punches here. [read part two on tumblr] [read the whole thing on ao3]

Rook comes to consciousness slowly, his mind fuzzy from sleep. He slowly opens his eyes, blinking them several times before he registers a wood-beamed ceiling. Where is he? He raises his head ever-so-slightly, looking around. The room comes into focus, semi-familiar. This is his room at the tavern. He has no memory of going to bed. The last thing he remembers is entering the tavern after the fight, and then…

Footsteps draw his attention away from that mystery. “Rook, you’re awake!” Sigmar rushes over to Rook’s bedside, relief clearly visible on his face. “You were out for twelve hours.” Seeing the question forming on Rook’s face he adds, “You fainted last night. It was… concerning to say the least.”

Rook slowly sits up as Sigmar continues talking. “What happened to you? I knew things were rough for you after we talked on the way here but the way you looked last night… you’re lucky to be alive.”

“I wasn’t.” The words are off his tongue and out of his mouth before Rook can process what he’s saying. “I wasn’t, yesterday.”

Sigmar peers closer at Rook, concern mounting on his face. “You weren’t what,  Rook.”

Again, he speaks without thinking. “Alive. I wasn’t alive yesterday.”

The color drains from Sigmar’s face. “What do you mean? What do you mean you weren’t alive yesterday?” 

Rook is taken aback by the forcefulness in Sigmar’s voice. Why does he sound so worried? Slowly, parsing out the words to keep from stumbling over them, he says, “Wolf sent an assassin after me. She succeeded.”

Sigmar’s brow furrows and his voice get louder. “Why didn’t you tell me?” When Rook doesn’t respond he adds, “Who saved you?”

“Aki. At least, I think it was him. I woke up and he was next to me.”

A flash of surprise crosses Sigmar’s face before vanishing, obscured by a new wave of concern. “What caused this? You looked terrible last night.” There’s a thread of something that sounds vaguely like fear in Sigmar’s voice as he says it, which catches Rook by surprise.

Rook takes a long moment to think. He can’t tell Sigmar the truth, at least not the whole truth. He’d tell the rest of the party immediately, and they’d all be in danger again. Rook settles on a partial truth. 

“I haven’t been sleeping.” He thinks hard, trying to remember the details. “I don’t think I’ve slept more than a couple of hours in the past two weeks.”

Sigmar’s jaw drops. “With that little sleep, you’re lucky to be alive.” He looks at Rook closely, inspecting his face. Rook shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. “What has been keeping you from sleeping?”

Again Rook pauses, taking a moment to consider his answer. “I don’t know. I can’t fall asleep and when I do I wake up again shortly after.”

Sigmar narrows his eyes. “I’ve told you: you and I are the same. We’re both liars. So don’t lie to me.”

An answer pops into Rook’s head and he puts conviction behind it, laying on false hesitation as if he’s revealing a big secret. “It’s Captain Wolf. Ever since I ran into her again, I haven’t been able to sleep. I keep having nightmares. About her.”

Sigmar stares at Rook for a long moment before seeming to accept the answer. A sense of relief floods Rook’s body. His secret is safe, for now. 

“Why are you doing this?” Sigmar asks, breaking the silence.

Rook blinks at him, uncomprehending. “Doing what? Coming to Torsek?”

Sigmar nods. “You’ve been pushing yourself to your limits, throwing your life on the line over and over again. Why? You’re endangering yourself, you’ve even died,”  Rook could have sworn he heard Sigmar’s voice waver on that word. “But you keep doing it. What could possibly be worth that?”

An answer leaps to Rook’s lips. “Because they need me.” It comes out quietly, but seems deafening in the empty room.

Sigmar leans back slightly, eyes widening in surprise. He looks Rook up and down, as if he’s reevaluating him. 

Without thinking, Rook adds, “You’re one of them.”

Sigmar, who has opened his mouth to speak, closes it again. He regards Rook for a long time. Eventually he says, “Your motivations may be more noble than mine, but at heart we act for the same reasons. I know you have not felt the care of a parent the same way I did…” He trails off momentarily, then continues, “But you are desperate for love all the same. I do everything in hopes of someday committing an act that will make the world love me. You, you act in hopes that the Vanguard will love you.” He looks Rook directly in the eyes, face serious. “You’re a fool.”

Rook says nothing, unable to summon up any kind of response to that statement. Sigmar continues, “The Vanguard does nothing but show you love, try to help you. They attempt to show you their love over, and over again. But you refuse to accept it.”

The words hit Rook like a slap, and he opens his mouth to retort, but Sigmar pushes ahead. “Instead of accepting their love, you throw yourself recklessly into danger, putting your life on the line again and again. You’re killing yourself, Rook.”

Rook’s eyes blaze with anger. He isn’t killing himself at all. He doesn’t want to die, far from it. He fights viciously for his life in every battle. He snaps back, “I’m not killing myself.”

Sigmar’s reply is swift and painful, like a bullet from his gun. “You might as well be.”

Rook finds himself speechless. What the hell is Sigmar talking about? He crosses his arms and turns away, refusing to meet the other man’s gaze.

A long silence stretches between them. Sigmar finally breaks it by saying, “I’ll help you. I just need to know that you’re telling me the truth.” His voice is surprisingly gentle, much softer than the whip-like tone from a moment earlier. 

Rook looks up at him. “I am telling the truth.” 

Sigmar frowns. “Rook, I told you, don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!”

“You are. I know your tells.”

Arms still firmly crossed, Rook keeps his gaze fixed on the floor. He won’t – can’t – tell Sigmar the truth. 

Sigmar seems to realize that Rook plans to stay silent, and sighs. “I can start listing off my theories. My ideas as to what’s keeping you from sleeping.”

Rook says nothing, still looking at the floor. His eyes follow the grain of the wood as it meanders through the planks.

“Did Maka do this to you?”

Before he can stop himself, Rook’s head whips upwards, mouth falling open in shock. “What? No!” 

Sigmar merely nods, and Rook is hit with a sudden feeling that he may have just played right into Sigmar’s trap. Rook turns away again, trying to find the same grain on the same plank he had been before Sigmar had spoken.

“I’ve felt the same symptoms as you are now, but lesser, once before. Do you still bear Furicifer’s curse?”

A chill runs down Rook’s spine. He forces his voice to stay steady and calm as he says “Furicifer was banished. He’s gone.”

Sigmar is silent for a long moment, and Rook’s heart begins to race. Surely Sigmar will believe that. It’s not far off from the truth.

When Sigmar speaks, it almost knocks the air from Rook’s lungs. “I told you not to lie to me.” His voice is deadly serious, simmering with anger. As he begins to speak again, it grows in intensity, though still quiet. “What in the gods’ names were you thinking? We need to get rid of him.”

Rook interrupts him, voice firm. “I can’t. If I lose this curse, Furicifer is free to return to the material plane.”

Sigmar shakes his head. “We’ll find a better demonologist. Someone stronger than this Dr. Zayeed.”

Without thinking, Rook blurts out, “You promised you’d help me!”

Sigmar immediately falls silent, looking at him. His face is a mixture of sadness, concern, and something else that Rook can’t quite read. He stares at Rook until Rook grows uncomfortable, looking away. “I have two options here. I can enable you, help you continue to hide this from the rest of the party. Or I can tell them. Let them try and talk some sense into you.”

“I can’t.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you can. Tell the party and-”

“I can’t.” Rook’s voice shakes, but his tone is determined. 

“Why not?” Sigmar snaps back.

“It was them or me.” The words are out too fast, and Rook regrets them the minute they’re out. But he looks up, meeting Sigmar’s gaze. He says again, softer, but more steady, “It was them or me.”

A long silence passes, and Rook eventually looks away. He stares at the ground for  a long, long time, before he sees something enter his field of vision. Sigmar’s hand, holding one of the pills he’d made. Rook looks up at him, surprised. “Take it.” Slowly, Rook reaches out and grabs the pill. 

He swallows it quickly, downing it before the taste can manifest on his tongue. Energy floods his body. Though he feels miles better than the day before, he hadn’t realized how much exhaustion still lingered in his body. 

Sigmar grabs a pouch, presumably holding the other pills in it, and holds it out to him. Rook reaches for it, but Sigmar pulls it back. “I’ll help you on one condition.” Rook stares at him, but says nothing. “If your condition worsens again, I’m telling the party. And if you’re in your right mind, you’ll be telling them too.”

Rook’s shoulder slump in defeat. He needs the medicine desperately. He looks down at the floor again as he says, barely louder than a whisper, “Fine.”

Sigmar places the pouch in his hand and turns towards the door. “The rest of the party will want to see you.” 

As he reaches the door, hand on the knob, Rook speaks. “Thank you.” The words are quiet, but genuine, tinged by the weight of Rook’s desperation. Sigmar’s hand hesitates on the doorknob, but he doesn’t reply or turn back before he opens the door. As he walks off down the hall, Rook can hear him calling out to the party, “Rook’s awake.”

[memento-morri-writes]

find the vibe tag

I was tagged by @akindofmagictoo. Thank you, Zoe!! 💙 My vibe was "I'm sorry that it had to come to this", and I immediately knew what I was going to share. (These are both from "Reunion No. 2 (Burning Down)")

Face solemn, Sigmar placed a hand on Rook’s shoulder and said, “If you won’t come willingly, then I will have to take you with me by force.” He pushed the blade in deeper, causing Rook to cry out in pain. His vision began to blur at the edges, and he could feel the strength draining out of of his body. Something was spreading outwards through his chest, tearing his insides apart. There was something deeply wrong about this blade. If he wanted to survive, he had to get out of here. Had to get away. Grasping Sigmar’s elbow as his knees began to buckle, he rasped, “You… you promised… you said you would help me.” He gasped for breath, each rise and fall of his chest sending new waves of pain through his body. Sigmar shook his head sadly. “I am helping you.” But there was the slightest bit of hesitancy in his voice.

and a bit later

Softly [Rook] said, “You know I can’t do that. You know I can’t leave them.” His voice broke and he blinked back tears as he started down at Sigmar’s beaten body. “If things had been different…” Sigmar shook his head. Chest heaving, every breath clearly an effort, he said, “If things had been different, we never would have met.” With a shudder, he lay back, tension draining out of his body. It seemed he had no will — or no strength — left to fight. Rook let his sword drop to his side. In a hollow voice, he said, “Maybe it would have been better that way.” The words burned like acid on their way up his throat, yet as soon as they were out he wished he could swallow them again. But there was no going back.

I'm going to tag @talesfromaurea @talesofsorrowandofruin @oh-no-another-idea and make this an OPEN TAG. Your vibe is "I would be fine if I never saw you again."