Tavir had come in his standard stealth archer gear—ancient shrouded cowl, ragged dark brotherhood tunic, boots that had seen every draugr crypt from here to High Hrothgar. He felt underdressed.
Tavir looked down. His ragged boots had been replaced. He now wore Sabre Cat Pumps : nine-inch heels with actual sabre cat teeth as the heel tips, purring softly with each step. Skyrim - TESV Nude Patch V0.2.7
“First rule of V0.2.7,” said the mannequin. “You can’t kill what’s already fashionable.” Tavir had come in his standard stealth archer
“The patch added physics,” the mannequin said. “Hair, capes, the works. But it also added desire . Walk out that door wearing what you’re wearing now? The guards won’t recognize you. Nazeem will compliment you. And Delphine—” A pause for effect. “—will ask you to dance at the Thalmor embassy ball.” His ragged boots had been replaced
“Always. ‘Fashion Crimes of Skyrim.’” The mannequin gestured with a jointed finger toward a mirror at the far end of the gallery. In the reflection, Tavir saw himself—but wearing The Gilded Dunmeri Cocktail Dress (glass armor reimagined as a clubbing outfit, complete with a Chaurus-silk clutch). He hadn’t put it on. The mirror had.
In the mirror, the cocktail dress sparkled. Tavir sighed, drew his bow, and aimed at the reflection’s throat.