No Strings Attached

My little dragon puppet I just made!! Be nice to him he’s only a little boy! 

I have a tutorial up on how to make him if u want check it out 

“What are you doing out this late?”

“This part of town isn’t a good place to be at this time of night.”

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” 

“You do realize what time it is, right?” 

“Where are you going at this hour?” 

“The sun isn’t rising anytime soon, you know.” 

“Do you know where I am?” 

“The city looks different at night.” 

“This street is very dark…” 

“Why don’t you come stand in the light?” 

“Are you lost?” 

“I got turned around in the dark…” 

“This isn’t the time to go wandering around.”

“Only fools and trouble come out to these parts at this hour.” 

“Looking for trouble, are we?” 

“A little late to be shopping.” 

“Just coming back from the bar?” 

“Think any of the pubs are still going to be open?” 

“Trouble lurks around every shadowed corner.” 

“Woah! I didn’t see you there!”

“Where did you come from?” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“A bold move to show your face here in the shadows of night.” 

“Go home.” 

“It isn’t safe here at this time of night.” 

“You’re being watched.” 

“What are you doing still up?” 

“Looking for something?” 

“I like walking when the streets are empty.”

“It’s dangerous to walk at night alone.” 

“I know where I’m going.” 

“The trees are kind of spooky…”

“Did you hear that howl?” 

“Was…was that an owl…?” 

“This path is scary at night…” 

“The woods is no place a __ after dusk.” 

“Oh you poor soul, wandering lost in the forest under the new moon…” 

“You can’t see the stars from here…” 

“This is the witching hour.” 

“Dark beasts lurk here. Be cautious.” 

“Stay on the road!” 

“Talking a midnight stroll along the beach?” 

“The ocean is so mysterious at night…” 

“What brings you to the pier at this hour?” 

“What dangers lurk in these dark waters, I wonder.” 

“You’re going to get yourself lost one of these days.” 

Richard Teschner [via 50watts]

“You were in Elsweyr?! What was that like?” Nelle asked excitedly, turning from the construction of the stage to fully face the woman. As if she weren’t enough of a fan of the puppeteer already!

The Breton gleefully awaited the appearance of the puppets, and seemed to be thoroughly enthralled by them. Of course, Nelle would have liked to touch them, to feel their different textures and weights, but that would be too forward of her. Best to wait and see if the opportunity presented itself in a different manner than her simply asking.

At the questions, Nelle frowned slightly, and turned to adjust the curtains on the miniature stage and wipe away some dirt that had settled on the stage floor.

“My father found a lot of things unladylike,” she replied with a shrug, and let out a short huff. “Mostly it seemed anything that I was truly interested in was unladylike. But he said that if I were to ever please my husband, I’d need to fill my mind and time with proper things – not frivolous hobbies. Fortunately, my mother thought otherwise, and although I never got to own a puppet of my own, I was permitted to do other things my father thought were unladylike and wastes of time: study architecture, sculpt, read about dwemer engineering and astrology and Conjuration.”

The more she spoke, the more she seemed to brighten, as clearly the mention of her mother raised her spirits. Nelle finally turned to look at the woman again, and a smile was on her face.

“My mother was always supportive of me. It’s because of her that I’m even here in Skyrim,” she stated, her smile growing slightly. After a moment, she shook her head and waved a hand. “But it’s my turn to ask questions again, isn’t it? Hm… what got you interested in puppeteering? Do you always make your own puppets?”

‘Goodness, it sounds as if your father would get on wonderfully with my mother. Did you know that building sandforts with the alfiq is also unladylike? And scaring your sister with toy spiders? Why, doing anything which isn’t what they want you to do seems to be unladylike. It’s awfully unfair, if you ask me.’

The actual puppet show she was supposed to be performing seemed to have slipped Fria’s mind. Apparently and attentive audience of one was preferable to hundreds of people milling by without dropping any coins her way or paying her any special attention. She produced a small cushion from the bottom of her pack, stitched in patchwork rather like her robes and usually used for kneeling on while performing, and sat herself down on it beside Nelle.

‘I do make them myself, yes,’ she said. Her hands played with the crossbar of the Dunmer puppet, making him stomp back and forth, turning his head to glare at Nelle. ‘Truly, it’s the best part, watching them come together. It was S’Yajiri who taught me. I knew her in Elsweyr, and-- oh, I’m getting myself all in a muddle. I grew up in Elsweyr, you see. I did like to watch the Khajiiti caravans passing our house, although of course that wasn’t at all ladylike either, and S’Yajiri travelled with one of them. I pestered her and pestered her for simply ages until she gave in and taught me.’

Finally, with a quiet thump, the Dunmer puppet threw himself to the ground in a sulk and stared off towards the stage. His foot tapped as Fria toyed with the strings, pursing her lips in thought.

“Wonderful!” Nelle exclaimed, no longer hiding her excitement judging by the beaming smile on her face. She became instantly giddy and nearly giggled with glee. But she managed to keep it together and continued setting up, though she did glance over at the woman once or twice.

“Do you have a lot of puppets? Any favorites? How long have you been putting on shows?”

‘Goodness, such a lot of questions!’

Although judging by the warmth of Fria’s tone, she was not annoyed at the chance to show off. She threaded a thin stick through the loops on some miniature curtains, the front of her puppet stage, and balanced the result on the wooden slats Nelle had just set up. With that out of the way she abandoned the rest of the construction to reach for her bag.

‘I’ve got dozens. Some of them are getting rather tatty now, what with travelling around so much. I’ve been doing it for... oh, quite a few years! Ever since I left Elsweyr.’

The bag writhed as her hand dug through it, stirring up the limbs, to bring up a puppet wrapped in strings. Fria held it up and let it spin itself free. A gaunt-looking girl hung from the strings, with long black hair and chips of obsidian for eyes.