This pissed-off and “I’m so done with you” little nugget’s name is Nameeka. She’s a smuggler. She finally got her ship back and now is on her way to kick the nasty guy who stole it in the first place in all dem tender parts.
Oh, and I also have another dozen of toons each and every one with their own headcanons, relationships and stuff… >.> And I finally found a suitable Legacy name. They are now – Venatrix Legacy =)
PS- Latin words make great Legacy names xD
What the game is really lacking – is the variety of eye colors. More specifically – violet!
Also, meet Mica – not the one out of first created, but suddenly my main swtor toon.
Violet eyes would suit her soooo good, don’t you think?
Some more faces… For the toons I will make for sure as soon as/when I get an access to those non-f2p races >.> So, rattataki, cathar, mirialan and pureblood sith (ooooh, the possibilities!!!)
“Hey.”
“Mmhm?” Garzur cracked one eye open and glanced at the tiny bosmer standing on the platform next to him with two steaming mugs in her hands.
“Brought you something before you freeze to death,” Rin passed one of the mugs to him. “What are you doing up here?”
“Sitting. Thinking. Breathing. What’s in there?” The orc smelled the drink feeling the mix of herbal and spicy aromas.
“Tea.” Rin laughed. “Don’t make this face, if I wanted to poison you, I would’ve done it long ago and with something much less conspicuous than an unfamiliar beverage, don’t you think?”
She scooted closer, sitting down next to him and dangling her legs over the edge of the platform.
“Coin for your thoughts?”
Garzur shrugged. “All the same. It feels weird, surreal. Don’t get me wrong, it was a right decision, it was my decision and I enjoy this,” he paused looking for words, “newly acquired mortality. It just feels weird.”
Silence fell again, interrupted only by occasional chirruping of crickets. Garzur thought back to the events of last several months that brought him here – not an un-living anymore, sitting on the platform in the branches of a huge graht oak overlooking Hearthwood with a tiny insufferably stubborn wood elf next to him. He thought of several months in Wrothgar, of the small clan of descendants of his original family who, to his endless surprise, accepted him as one of their own, of how Rin insisted on taking him to Valenwood to meet her family. After she told him a little about them he thought he was more or less ready, but…
“Uncle Ryn said auntie is bringing her orc friend, and the books Mama reads us say orcs are scary” – three pairs of curious golden-green eyes stared at him, waiting. “Are you scary too?”
Garzur turned to Rin, “what am I supposed to do?” question evident in his eyes. “Growl at them, maybe?” provided the shortie elf trying not to laugh. And he did. Golden-green eyes grew huge and for a second he was sure he ruined everything but then… Two tiny bosmer girls squealed in excitement and hung on him nearly tackling him on the ground. “Not scary! Not scary!” Helplessly he turned to look at Rin only to notice her crying from laughter. “Can’t trick the kids!” she singsonged.
“That was a dirty move.”
“What?”
“Letting your nieces jump me. How was I supposed to know how to react? It’s not like I had a big experience dealing with children for … ever”
Rin giggled. “You did fine!”
“Well, calling me being a living tree for climbing “fine” is a bit of a stretch, but…” he sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with young ones much more often than I’m used to when I stay with the clan now.”
“At least you already know how to play hide-and-seek.” Rin winked at him.
“That was a long way from there to here,” Garzur smirked. “What I would never understand is why you were never afraid.”
“You heard the girls. Not scary.”
“Rin…”
“Well, you never exactly tried to be really scary and never looked at me like I was a snack, so, you know,” she wriggled her fingers, “I figured you aren’t a threat.”
“I tried to avoid spicy food.”
“You know, you got more cheeky? Must be mortality side-effect.”
Garzur laughed wholeheartedly. “Learning from the best.”
Rin bumped him with her shoulder laughing now too.
“I’ve never thought it would come to this, you know. I’ve pretty much got used to a thought that I’m always going to be an exile, alone, on my own. But then I got you and Alastair – and then my life back, and then in a blink of an eye I got a family…”
“Two.”
“What?”
“Two.” Little bosmer shrugged. “They all like you, you know.” She waved her hand in the direction of Woodhearth. “You said Alastair is like a brother to you, well same goes for you in my opinion. You are like a brother to me – gruffy, grumpy and uncharacteristically green, but that doesn’t change a thing. And the thing with wood elves is – get one, and you get all others for good measure. So, my friend,” she added with a broad smile, “you got yourself one hell of a bundle of relatives.”
“Circe Maria Augusta! What is the meaning of this?!”
She stubbornly looked down refusing to meet her mother’s furious eyes.
“Your dress! Your hair! Ruined!”
“I slipped.”
It was her 14th birthday – her first “grown-up” birthday – with dozens of guests and a celebration party. At least it was supposed to be, but…
“You look pretty!”
She laughed and spun around again, showing off the delicate silks swirling around her legs. “You think so?”
“I do.” Alastair’s smile became cheeky. “Like a princess or damsel in distress from your fairy-tales.”
She turned to him. “Am not!”
“You do! All silks, and flowers – if enemies had attacked right now, you wouldn’t be able to do anything, just stare, and gasp, and feel helpless till some mighty warrior rescued you!”
“I am not! I can outrun you even in this dress, and I’m far from helpless!”
“Oh really? Then how about,” he paused considering the options, “to the pond and back – and if you win, I’ll take “damsel in distress” back?”
“Deal!”
Without second thought children darted out of the house.
By the time they reached the pond they both were breathing hard and the hem of Circe’s dress and Alastair’s pants were covered in spatters of mud left after the morning rain. He outran her, of course, even if almost barely.
“It’s all this stupid dress!” Annoyed, Circe kicked the nearest grass mound. “If it wasn’t so long… Oh!” The wet ground gave in, she slipped, nearly falling over, but Alastair caught her hand helping her to straighten up.
It suddenly occurred to him that like this – flushed from running and hair wild – she looked prettier than back in the house when she was showing him the dress.
“I won, and you still look like a damsel in distress, but if it makes you feel better,” he added noticing her frown, “as a damsel who thoroughly kicked her offender’s most tender body parts before succumbing to distress and letting her knight save her.”
“My, my, Lord Daragutis, aren’t you a smooth-talker?” laughed the girl, clearly mimicking her mother’s manner of speech.
Her fingers tighten around his a little – or was it just his imagination? – and he felt the blush creeping up his neck.
Circe turned to look at her dress with a sigh. “I’d better get back and clean myself before Mother sees me.”
“You’re staying in your room, young lady! Your guests would have to have a party without you attending!”
“Mother!” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“End of discussion.”
*****
Later that evening he snuck upstairs to the door of her room with a slice of her birthday cake as a peace offering.
“Everyone’s missed you down there, your parents said you were not feeling well and won’t be joining the party.”
“If it wasn’t for your stupid dare, I would’ve been there!” Circe’s voice was muffled by the door, but something told him that the girl was still crying.
“Hey! You could’ve just agreed with me and skip the running to the pond!” He sighed. “Look, I brought you the cake.”
“Just go away, Alastair! I don’t… I really don’t want to see anyone right now.”
“Fine!” He glared at the door before turning and leaving, the plate still in his hands.
Kirkat Riddcat – damn, I like this name! It is so… feline xD
Katy is a smuggler and a cyborg (no story behind that… yet) – technically allied with Republic, but practically having the “I answer to no one” attitude.
Funny thing. It seems I am absolutely unable to make a “good” or “bad” character – both she and Rokra have a fairly equal amount of “Force” and “Dark Side” points and firmly stick to it. So, speaking in Mass Effect terms, I got myself another Paragade and Renegon xD
(Who’s obsessed with the combination of white hair and green eyes? I’m obsessed? Nahhh, can’t be!… >.> …. <.< …. *whistles innocently*)
Well, I guess it had to happen eventually… Guess who’s playing SWTOR? xD
This is Rokra. She’s an Imperial Agent and a sniper. Yup, told ya, Dark Side – cause as we all know it has best cookies 😉 – and, as it turned out – a sniper class too. Or maybe I just haven’t found a Republic sniper class xD I can’t get over how good her facial tattoos look. And over the fact that she’s voiced by Jo Wyatt – so she’s talking in fem!Hawke’s voice and I can’t unsee sarcastic!Hawke facial expressions (not that I try, really)…
I made a goodie-goodie character too, well, kinda goodie – cause she’s a smuggler. I like her name a lot and she’s pretty fun to play for too – I”ll post her pic in a separate post.
