llynnyia answered your question “some sewing machine advice?”
Your not going to get both, from exsperience. I sew renfaire garb. If you want a machine to sew leather and heavy stuff its not going to be a basic machine but do stick to brother as a brand.
Yeah, it is not likely for me to be sewing leather in any regular basis, but I always wanted to be able to make bags and things, so I thought i’d look for a machine that can at least make it possible to do it?
My old machine (which is almost dead now) is a Brother brand, and i could never put anything thicker than denim, even with a special needle. The tension would all go out the door and be all wonky.
BUT the machine I get would still be mainly for everyday sewing, like I make little skirt for my daughter every now and then, do hems when I get new trousers (because i have short ass legs) etc.. If i can’t find the thing that can sort of do both, then it’s fine :)
A most lovely gift for my birthday from @llynnyia, this adorable Solas was commissioned by @simbelmine with so much amazing detail that I think I just might have to get a second doll to keep this one company!! Thank you so much! <3
llynnyia reblogged your photoset:So the DA roleplaying core book comes with a giant...
please do it again the one I spoted seemed off. really off and didnt take into account stopping to rest feed animals...
Oh, I’d just be doing distance so like It’s about 54 miles from Ostagar to Lothering. And then people can work out things on foot, or by horses, or what not. (BY DRAGON! ^_- )
Written for the first place prize winner @capri , here is the little monster we crafted together. It definitely took a life of its own after I got started, beyond even what I was expecting originally, but I hope it still brings a smile to her face!! Warning, gamer-girl crack below, and art soon to follow by the lovely @llynnyia !
“Oh look, another hair mod to save us from the fifty shades of bald in the CC. Let me guess, elves and humans only. Qunari need some love now and then too. ” You mumble with boredom, leaning hard into your hand while scrolling through the latest wave of new Inquisition mods. You’ve played the game, all the games actually, so many times and it’s been months since the last DLC drop. There has to be something to spice up the vanilla system you’ve come to love over the last year, but after four hundred hours of play time, five fully finished play-throughs and every achievement unlocked you can’t help but look for a new addition.
Another week has passed by and still no one has created a mabari add-on, even if it couldn’t follow you around it would be nice to see a hound sleeping by one of the fireplaces in the main hall or sitting outside the Herald’s rest. And it had to have the option to pet it. This would be a thousand times better if Jim the idiot Scout was replaced with a dog, you wouldn’t mind seeing that cute, drooling face repeated again as a base model.
“What’s this?” All the way at the bottom of the screen, the file size doesn’t look big enough to give everything the description promises. Unlocks unused dialogue, triggers randomly, wider response in NPC to environmental changes, improved AI functions and reactions. Sure, bet it causes more clipping than that reshader you downloaded for DA2. You still have screenshots of the time all your favorite companions merged into one ridiculous being. Varric’s head sticking out of Isabela’s chest had been your background for nearly a month. You always knew he’d be a boob-man, it was a proud moment to see him embrace it for himself.
“Hmmm, no reviews yet either.” It’s only been up a few minutes. You tap at your mouse a few idle times, debating on if it’s worth adding on top of everything else. It took half the day last time to sort a bad mod out of the ever expanding list. Best to test it on an unaltered game first, there’s still that Solas romance you haven’t progressed yet. It’s your third one, you can’t seem to make an elf romance anyone else. Poor Lavellan, the girl doesn’t know what’s coming. Again. Just thinking about putting that Inquisitor through the Crestwood debacle is enough to make you want to weep, but only a little…
“And installed, let’s fire this bad boy up!” You spin in your chair, waiting for the game to load, catching only glimpses of the endlessly marching mages and Templars. “Now where is that save file? I really need to clean this list up. But when in doubt, save, save, save.”
There. Perfect, the one before the Temple of Mythal should work just fine. Though that means you’ll have to walk all those puzzles again. Once down the blasted hole was enough, plus it ruined all that extra glorious time with Abelas because of Morrigan’s complete lack of chill.
“Ok, let’s go see that Fade-nerd. Shit, what were we doing on top of this roof… I’m sure I collected that arrow already. Probably just flycaming again.” You say as you twirl your Lavellan around and around to test your framerates before having her jump down into the gardens, landing oh so elegantly amid the patrons instead of on top of someone’s head. You are now used to sliding off the normally immobile folk, several of the milling people disperse a few steps when they look up of all things to see her fall and hit the ground. It took a moment longer for your character to recover, but Lavellan brushed it off all the same. “Well that’s convenient, guess who’s not getting stuck behind gossiping crowds anymore! Where’s those snotty nobles, I want to run through them.”
For the next half hour you do nothing but attempt to slam into the formerly stoic members of Skyhold, but each time they are shoved to the side or move of their own volition. One almost looked like they were glaring when you bumped them repeatedly. You remind yourself to take a short video later to dub over, and call it the ‘dumb-quisitor’ or something nonsensical. Perhaps Varric will put on a good show with his ever classic bull-shitter’s stare. Having finally had enough of the shenanigans, what better time than any to pester ol’ Solas.
Up to the rookery you send your Lavellan, and with some careful maneuvering she teeters on the narrow railing while you wait for just the right moment to leap onto Solas’ desk. Fingers on the camera triggers, you can’t wait to see what the hobo-boyfriend will do when his vhenan comes flying down.
Lavellan hesitates when you direct a jump, probably just food stuck in the button, another tap sends her forward. With giggling glee you wait to start snapping a few well timed screenshots, yet all too quickly the little prank loses its luster.
The Inquisitor hits the desk, hard, crumpling into her usual loose heap. But she doesn’t snap back to her feet, instead she rolls off the table and remains on the rotunda floor.
“No! Hold on!” Solas shouts, but that dialogue is normally reserved for combat. You’re sure of it because you’ve let her die several times just to hear him say those same words. There’s no fall damage in Skyhold however, no required triggering for the alarmed words. You try to get the motionless character moving, you go to use a potion but find the option deadlocked. You can’t even save at this point.
Wordlessly you gape as the path-set NPC breaks from his coded loop and kneels beside the fallen Herald, laying his hands upon her all too still body. For the terrifying moment while you work to forcefully shut down the game, you hear what sounds like crying just before the screen returns to the main one. The mages and Templars march again, unchanged as they had been before.
“Maker’s sagging balls! What the fuck was that!” You spit, opening up the download folders. Modders are not people, they are monsters! “You mother-fucking trolls!! How could you make such a horrible thing!” That was too much, not anything like what you wanted. Several clicks later and the horrible file has been turned off and the game fully rebooted. You still have to test to see if things are still working properly, but your hands shake slightly as everything starts back up. Maybe its excitement, you’ve never seen an easter-egg like that before.
Not tonight, your week has been exhausting enough. You need more mental fortitude to fully appreciate all the hard work that’s gone into this revision. You pick a save further down the line, not even daring to touch the unfinished Lavellan play-through—any of your elfy ones for the matter— afraid of what you might find if you open it again.
There’s your first Adaar, all six feet of dark muscles, curled horns and unstoppable rage. He was such a fun and hostile warrior, siding immediately with the Templars and opting for anti-mage everything. His companions all despised the bloody leader they’d helped to the independent throne, you can’t even romance anyone because of how low their approval has fallen. Josephine is too pure for this bastard; you could never throw her into the arms of such a wicked devil. She has a charming Cadash now after all, why ruin a match made in heaven like that.
Perchance some violence and rivalry will help wash the horrified taste from your mouth, with a few map clicks you are off on your way to the Fallow Mire. Time to kill some undead and smash a few demons for kicks, you aren’t in the mood much for dragon hunting just yet.
Through the swamps you march, so far all is well. Cassandra, Blackwall and Iron Bull all follow you in formation even with a few quick stops and direction changes to check the mechanics. And better yet, in silence. Into the hell pit you all go for some zombie thrashing, hope everyone brought some extra clothes, they’ll have to burn the ones they’re in after this.
Good, that mod appears to be gone now. No more untested anything for you for a while, maybe you should have just stuck with the aesthetic ones after all. Giving Dorian a right proper cockatiel ‘do had been more than enough, why risk breaking an already good game.
Things go well as you work your way through the twisting, infested swamp and for a time it doesn’t matter that you still have a harder mode on. This guy’s a bruiser, he can take a few knocks and you have plenty of health remedies to keep in one piece. You turned off the potion use for the others, wanting to regulate it yourself while in combat. Cassandra’s stats always go up while she’s hurt anyways, and there are a few camps to refresh in if need be. But if that damned requisition’s officer has one more message for you, Ser, then you might just shut him up for good. There is no time for fetch missions to make unnoticeable changes to tents and wagons and spy glasses. You have killing to do!
After clearing the third mound with an elvhen rune and surviving several waves of demons you go through the last of your potions. Maybe you should have brought a mage to do a little healing, but the mere thought of bringing Solas along after hearing his broken sob makes your skin crawl. Someone must have found more of the voice actor’s work to blend in, the effect had been astounding though.
Perhaps you need some tea to soothe your nerves, couldn’t help. A day of gaming does make for quite the thirst. You leave your video game for a time and head to the kitchen, “What did I do with my favorite Fenris cup...” You didn’t pay an Etsy seller handsomely to lose one of your most prized possessions like that. There it is, sitting by your stash of Dragon Age related comic books. What a dork, but at least you are a happy fangirl. And that’s what really matters, right?
The world is right again, your cup having been located. A quick nuke in the microwave soon has your needs met, then its back to the keyboard to enjoy a few more hours of fooling around. Maybe you could get all those damn shards this time, the boosts in resistance do help later on in the game.
“Done and done!” What is Blackwall up to now?
“Dead!” Cassandra too? Oh no, why do you hear fighting?!
“I’m gone for five seconds and you morons pull—” Dropping back into your chair you nearly lose your grasp on the hot mug covered in lyrium styled tattoo marks. Here are your followers all in combat. With the Inquisitor. You take control of the keyboard in time to get one good hit against Blackwall before he knocks your Adaar over with a full-tilt charge. They both go down, health spiraling in the toilet, but no one comes to the big brute’s aid. The other’s revive their teammate and bring Blackwall back to his feet before all three take off on the rain-slick path, leaving you behind in a quagmire full of walking corpses.
“What is going on here?!” You screech as the rotten bodies come marching up the hill to finish off whatever’s left of the depleted Qunari. Nothing you do to get him up again seems to work, you chuck your mouse away in a flash of rage. The batteries go flying out. Fingers slam on ctrl+alt+delete right before the Inquisitor dies. You take the entire computer offline in a hard-reboot.
Now you are angry, the first thing you do when the system has restarted is hit up the forums. No one has any idea what you are talking about, there’s no such mod listed that they can see. Some comment back that it might be a glitch caught in all the layers. They recommend trashing all the mods, backing up a few of the more important saves and then uninstalling Dragon Age to start it over from scratch. That should kick whatever has turned your playable character into what appears to be a targetable enemy or destroyable object, something in the code must have gotten fried.
A few calming emails later, one directed rather poignantly to customer service, you feel safe enough to return to the Lavellan save. Best look for more bugs to document when they get around to writing back. Flycam is fine and dandy, it’s never gotten too screwy before. Besides getting utterly lost in undeveloped game levels a time or two. Solas Smut Saturday is fast approaching again. You did promise a few new choice booty-shots to join in on the weekly fun. Someone had spent an awful long amount of time creating that ass; it would be rude not to appreciate the digital art as it were. Perhaps it might even inspire one of your favorite authors to do a little quickie to satisfy the empty hole Bioware left in your panties—you mean your soul. Maker help you.
Lavellan is still alive and well, excellent. Why not take her, Solas and Cole out for a nice relaxing trip to the Hinterlands. Chase a few rams, pick some elfroot, and pose for a few insanely low angled shots. Those super long shirt flaps were not conducive to such important photography. There’s a mod for that, but after the experiences you’ve already suffered it might be better to keep things simple until the problem is fully resolved.
All is quiet and serene, you cleared this map eons ago and are now overpowered as balls. Not even that pesky dragon and all its little shit-lins could take you down and you won’t be heading that direction anyways. Off you go to find a perfectly lit spot, just the right amount of shadow cast to highlight all of Solas’ elvhen glory without a glare. You take command of him to set up the position, your camera toggle moves freely without any issue. Maybe all that confounded resetting paid off, the dreaded mod finally dead.
There, slanting up on that boulder should work splendidly, though the daylight doesn’t do what the glow of red lyrium or the cold midnight of the desert often achieves. Skin like Solas’ was modeled for shadows and shades, though today’s conquest doesn’t involve those fantastical features. You should write a letter to whomever decided on those lips and chin of his, and it would entail nothing but hallelujahs and gross sobbing.
Just as you get everything in place, the bald elf looking quite fine in the warm light, you hear Cole pipe in off camera. But instead of one of his movie references or obscure remarks he begins to speak of something much, much closer to home.
“Curved caress, so much care created to form. If I could touch it once and learn the shape I might go blind but be ever blessed.”
All the color drains from your face and your stomach drops to the floor. You’ve never heard that dialogue before and you’ll be damned to think that it wasn’t directed at you. Hadn’t you just been drooling over that perfectly poised posterior, delighting in the imagined details that would bring a warm blush to even some of the raunchiest of fictions you’ve read over the last year?
“Are you trying to screw with me? This has got to be a joke.”
The words slip out of your mouth as you gawk at the computer monitor. Your mind is just messing with you, you’ve played this game too much and now are about to fall down the rabbit hole forever. The dreams were bad enough. Gallivanting with Iron Bull through the super market, his horns knocking over an entire shelf full of goodies. Taking Cassandra to your old grade school to scare off all the bullies with her scowl and razor-sharp cheekbones alone. And that one utterly ridiculous evening, the image still forever in your head. When you were a fly on the wall of Zevran’s tent, observing the orchestrated orgy that crossed some serious lines and literally ripped major holes in the fabric of Thedas’ universe.
“With a wave I would have him beauteously bare, breaths brimming, body bursting with benevolence as she holds him to her with not a stitch to hide behind. When you wake up, the words warn but the mouth is stunned with a stolen kiss that becomes so much more, though the motions remain the same. The skin begins to burn, higher, higher, riding up that world-shattering thigh—”
Cole knew that you’d toyed with that naked mod. The little shit! You’d drooled over that first kiss scene with your OTP in the buff for hours, replaying it in sequential gifs. For research of course, the clothes were after all very distracting from your initial analysis of the scene.
That’s it. You’ve finally cracked. The game has ruined you, mind and body. A mortified groan escapes as you slide down in your chair. The mouse slips from your hand, moving the camera away from the apostate’s epic behind and returns to his face. Have you ever seen him red in the cheek before? He fiddles, rocking as if his feet were sore, decidedly embarrassed. Lavellan is laughing somewhere behind him, full of mirth while Cole goes silent once more.
With your toes you dig deep behind the desk, feeling up the wall until you feel a plastic cable. With a hard tug you yank the power cord from its socket and the screen once again goes black, shutting down before it has a chance to save.
For a time, you do little else put stare dumbfounded at the ceiling. This stupid game has won, you have been defeated by imaginary people who have strangely become oh so very real. No one warned you when you got into this fandom that there was no leaving once you’d drunk from that poisoned well. And now you’ve gone mad.
Maybe you should take a walk, get some fresh air. Your head lolls to the side, still flush with the embarrassment of having a fictional spirit read your dirty little mind. What else would he have said if you’d let him continue on? Would he have mentioned all those naughty AUs that took advantage of Solas’ more heated youth? Or even that one glorious smut where past and present collided, and Lavellan had more than enough Dread Wolf for one evening.
Maybe you should just go back to playing Skyrim. Things were safe there, and the mods didn’t take over the games unless you wanted them too.
…
“It’s gone. Did I say something wrong?” Asked Cole, his watery eyes still fixed to the sky.
“No, but maybe next time you should leave such things left unsaid. Solas’ ears look like they are going to burn off.” Lavellan wheezed as the other elf marched off, finally free to do as he pleased.
“I will be finding new attire after this…” The apostate groaned, pulling the long flaps of his tunic further down across the object of the strange entity’s affections.
It seems you aren’t the only one who can play games.
I was so ecstatic to wake up this morning and see you liked my wip of Solas. I always enjoy your art so to see that you liked one of mine was very special. Thank you.
Aaah! Thank you! <3 And no problem! I can’t wait to see the finished version. (It’s looking pretty hot so far. u////u)
