Meme Announcements!
Oct. 29th, 2011 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyrimkinkmemeANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017
Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.
I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.
The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3
Because jerks don't usually think they're jerks
Date: 2013-05-11 01:29 am (UTC)(I realize that "universally hated" is kind of subjective, but I think most of the characters above are pretty free of redeeming features, as opposed to someone like Ulfric who tends to inspire strong feelings on both side of the love/hate spectrum, or Mercer who manages to be kind of a magnificent bastard while being heinous.)
Skill 1/1
Date: 2013-07-02 10:48 pm (UTC)Warnings: instituzionalized torture, discrimination and all around awfulness.
--
When she was five, an inspector came into her house. Her mother had woken her up early, much earlier than she was used to, to get bathed and perfumed, dressed and made presentable with the help of her nurse. She’d asked to the lady, as she combed and parted her hair, if they were going to another ceremony. Perhaps there was another festivity on that day.
Her nurse’s name was Hithaereth. She hadn’t known anyone else with a name like that, not at that age. She hadn’t known she came from the south, from a small village by the sea. She only knew her nurse’s sad, closed lip smile, when she bowed to her every morning and held out her hand. She’d smiled at her, that day, and told her they were waiting for company. That it was a special occasion, and her mother expected her to be on her best behavior. That she might even get a present afterwards.
The inspector had been a stunning sight. She’d seen the likes of him from her balcony, walking by. She’d seen them at parades and ceremonies. His enchanted robes had looked as soft and unyielding as the night, reaching down all the way from his superiority to her ground. When she’d bowed to him, eyes fixed on the golden threadwork, her heart hammered like a bird’s, and she desperately wished to be like that.
The inspection had been a brief, impersonal affair. She’d passed, as was expected, and got rewarded for not crying afterwards. On the years to come, she’d taken that attitude, of her inspector’s detached, clinical observation, as an example of professionalism and excellence at work. She knew she grew to be exemplary tall, well formed, beautiful and talented. It was as it had to be, for all the steps had been followed. It was written on her blood. Truly, it was inevitable.
She excelled in her studies, when she applied herself. And she applied herself, because she was a beautiful mer, and her parents and tutors wouldn’t mar her perfect skin, but a southern lowbred of calloused hands and shorter stature could not be much further ruined. She devoted herself to the arcane, to the arts of healing and banishing undead. Her classmates questioned her, sometimes. Pulled her aside to discuss if that’s all she really thought she had to offer for herself.
But she already knew how to play that game. “Everything is useful, if one applies it well.”
“You are indeed correct. But surely you agree some skills are more useful than others?”
“Absolutely, I do. It’s those skills that are applied well.”
She came to be surrounded by aspiring healers and priests, all proud of their achievements, all eager to go out into the world and do well. She came home late, preferring to walk among the beautiful spires than mingle with friends, and intruded in the servants’ quarters out of her parents’ sight.
“I apologize,” she said. She raised her hand and cast her spell, focusing on the lashes across the back.
“It is alright, Miss. All is well.”
Hithaereth was not a young mer. She would have probably had children of her own, as Elenwen eventually would, at her age. But it was forbidden, and it had been seen to, and all she had was this child, so bright and so determined. So driven to her far reaching ends.
“It is not. I neglected my studies this past week, and that is inexcusable.”
A click of the tongue. Impolite, but expected. “No one is perfect, Elenwen.”
She stopped healing. She reversed the spell. She’d only learned she could do that that same day. Hithaereth grimaced and tensed.
“I am perfect.” She breathed deep and resumed casting her spell.
Re: Skill 1/1
Date: 2013-07-04 08:45 pm (UTC)Re: Skill 1/1
Date: 2013-07-05 06:25 am (UTC)