dovah-kiin
"The Chosen One."
"I do not deserve this title." "You do not get to choose." Juniper I 25 I Dovahkiin
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elvenxbloodmoon:
It was by some odd chance that she had managed to get so close without detection, though Evangeline might have simply shrugged it off as her glare burned into the young woman sitting before the fire. One look and it was clear that her mind was elsewhere, far off and not aware of the intentions that stalked her in the darkness. She was, however, vastly different from the usual group of bandits camped along the roads, or cutthroats that occupied every tavern from Riften to the outskirts near Solitude. Dark skin, strands of disheveled hair that draped over her shoulders, clothing she had not yet seen in this land; a foreigner, likely, and one that could have more coin that she knew what to do with hidden away.
Whatever had held the woman’s attention was gone the moment the silence was broken, a twig suddenly snapping beneath Evangeline’s weight when curiously had taken over and pushed her to take just a few steps closer. She knew well enough that an inch of skin couldn’t be seen, as she crouched down like a wild animal waiting to for the perfect time to strike . Even when the traveler’s eyes met with her own, it sent a rush of adrenaline through her blood, inching her forward again with a hand slowly reaching for the dagger strapped tightly at her right hip.
There was no plan to kill, though that’s what she was: a cold blooded killer, a wild creature that deserved nothing more than the harsh, brutal wilderness. She didn’t expect much of a fight, a part of her wanting to almost pity the younger woman; it was surprising enough to see her traveling alone, in a strange place nonetheless, and still in possession of her belongings.
Lips began curling into a feral smile, hand rested firmly on the dagger’s hilt when she emerged, shadows of the flames dancing across her face while her eyes never left the stranger’s. It would be over, and she’d be one step closer to getting back on the trail of the Silver Hand. She could have asked him for coin, men, anything and likely would have gotten it, if not for her pride. Stealing came easier than asking.
“Let’s make this quick, shall we? Empty out your pockets and hand over the bag, no tricks and we won’t have a problem. It’s nothing personal, one day you might understand that.”
Weariness crept over the Redguard’s face as she looked ahead, eyes falling seemingly past the woman illuminated by the crackling fire. This land was cold; even the warmth of the fire did little to diminish the goosebumps etching over Nanani’s bared skin, her lips just barely shivering every time an icy draft shifted through the air. The Reguard’s luminescent eyes trailed over the woman before her, observing every inch of her character before daring to comply. Speckles of blood trailed through the woman’s unruly, braided hair before Nanani noticed it on her clothes, hands, even face. Dried, blackened, old. Behind her unnerving jade eyes told a story; one of scorn, of survival.
A deep, tired sigh fell from Nanani’s lips along with her gaze, both seeming to fall to the icy dirt below. Out of the frying pan, into the fire. One obstacle after another; a triad of tribulations beating down on the Redguard’s shoulders until there was nothing left but a shell of who she once was. She had grown exhausted, not physically, but inside. There was nothing left but this debilitating feeling of emptiness and an ebbing headache that dulled but never left.
“Here.” Nanani spoke, her fingers trailing over the embroidered coin purse that dangled from her waistband.The satin like cloth was velvet to the touch, giving the tips of Nanani’s fingers a false sense of warmth. The clinking of septims could be heard over the crackling logs as she slipped her hand into the opening, only to pull out half of what the purse actually consisted of. With a swift flick of her wrist, Nanani threw the handful of septims to the bloodied boots of the woman before her, crystal eyes locking with hers once more. The bandit woman was merely surviving, she knew this. All too well, it seemed. And though she understood her, had once been her, Nanani also knew that she was tired. A previous battle, one that left the bandit struggling, aching, desperate, displayed over the woman’s shaking form.
“This is all you get. Now leave me.”
The coin purse found it’s home on her waist once more, her icy fingers reaching for the staff that laid at her feet.
Two Sides of the Same Coin (Juniper/Evangeline)
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elvenxbloodmoon:
Gallow’s Rock. It was a death sentence to any that got close enough, to any had beast blood coursing through their veins and knew what lurked behind stone walls. A simple suspicion had led to four days starved in a cramped cell, cuts that would turn to scars and bruises that would go unseen; it had shown Evangeline that she had been right not to trust humans. Delicate snow crunched beneath her feet, before the thrill of a late night hunt came to an abrupt and bloody halt in an ambuse, bodies of the Silver Hand staining the white ground as she was dragged in chains to the Hold.
It was miles behind her now, nearly a fortnight ago, and yet the woman could still hear their screams ringing out as tired feet carried her faster and farther than they had in months. Despite all efforts to move past it, her mind was branded with the memory of imprisonment, spikes that adorned severed heads of the unfortunate, countless pelts that decorated the walls in what she considered to be done purely for sport. Much like the Vigilants of Stendarr, those who called themselves Silver Hand wished to wipe out anything that they deemed unnatural, anything that would not fit into their ways of life. And for that alone, their ranks would suffer one day. Taking a life hadn’t weighed on her mind throughout much of her life, and if anything, watching beast after beast face the torture rack before being put down and mutilated had only strengthened her resolve to tear the rest of them apart.
The air had grown significantly cooler past Treva’s Watch, with hues of red and orange decorating the clusters of trees that surrounded much of the southeastern part that led to Riften. It was the last large hold in The Rift, a known hub of thieves and cutthroats alike; the perfect place to hide away long enough to figure out what came next. It was the likely place anyone would go searching for an assassin, or a werewolf. The Ratways were the bowels of the city, and certain parts held the sick, those who had nowhere else to go, no coin in their pockets and no purpose.
There was no future with the Dark Brotherhood, not with Astrid still calling the shots at it’s helm, and a part of her would have rather been skinned alive than call upon those creatures that inhabited Jorrvaskr. The only thing she could do was hide and heal, even if it meant running. But it was more than that. With no coin in her pocket, and no chance of finding a contract, Evangeline was left to rely on stealing to get by. Riften was a good start.
The soft glow of the sun was quickly disappearing over the hills that stood over Autumnshade Clearing, washed out wooden signs on the roadsides indicating that the destination wasn’t far ahead. The surrounding area proved to be full of wild game; elk and deer were hidden from view, but with each step, their scent filled her nose and threatened to release what had grown harder and harder to control. It howled, clawing beneath the skin as if it begged to be free, though her life in Skyrim had been anything but.
Green eyes had no issue leading her in the dark. But the shine of a campfire nearly hidden among the tree was enough to deter the young werewolf’s attention, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. Perhaps it was the need to see who else had found their way out there, the smell of food hidden away, or the prospect of filling her pockets with someone’s coin and getting a head start when she arrived in the city of thieves. Careful steps brought her closer, slowly, until she was mere yards away from the campsite, hidden from view of the singular person in her sights; a woman, though it hardly mattered. To her, it was just someone who might do the same to her if given the chance.
The air was crisp. Chilly tendrils clung to the old sweat of the defeated men as they slumped over in the creaky carriage, their silence deafened by failure and rigidity, splintered wheels. Snowflakes scattered past tired bodies, finding their way home on bare skin, flushed cheeks, wistful eyelashes. The weather wasn’t bad enough to stop neither the carriage nor the inevitable; it was just bad enough to depress the mood.
“Hey you.”
A coarse voice. One unfamiliar, yet the dialect was one the young woman had heard nothing but since her foot stepped over that border. Nanani’s mind wandered back to the ambush that followed; Nordic cries bellowed through the air as metal pierced through armor and bone, coating the fresh blanket of snow underneath with dark hues of crimson. She was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time, and yet it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, it seemed. Not his words, or questions, or their innocence. She hadn’t the strength to proclaim her guiltlessness like the horse thief did, nor did she want to carry on with empty conversations that did nothing but dull their quiet, inevitable end. All she wanted was silence, yet the pounding force thrashing at the back of her eyes robbed her of that.
"You're finally awake, yeah?"
She didn't respond. Crystal eyes met with the emerald ones of a rugged, Nordic man gagged by a torn piece of his own blue cloth. A vacant stare, one that Nanani almost empathized with. He had accepted his fate, as did she. She accepted it long before she found herself in this mess.
The Nordic man adjacent to her carried on with his wishful sentiments, recalling past memories with a melancholic smile as the carriage strolled through the snow speckled brush. Hints of Juniper berries teased at their senses, reminding Nanani of a home that was hers no longer, a home that would never be hers again.
Lost in her own thoughts, the Redguard woman didn't notice the carriage come to a halt and was only swayed as the prisoners were rushed off by men clad in red and silver armor, their grips tugging fiercely at the chains shackled between wrists. Nanani had no words; she didn't try to convince, nor did she try excuse her actions. She merely stared at the man before her, his hazel eyes sympathizing with her bad timing. He wouldn't, had he known. Regardless of her innocence in this foreign land, she deserved this.
One by one they were picked off, heads rolling to the dirt below as murmured whispers could be heard throughout the town. Some proclaimed with excitement, some looked away. It mattered none to the Redguard. The migraine piercing through every crevice in her head blurred the soiled path before her and as she fell, knees buried deep in the dark earth below, shackled wrists dangling before the bloodied slab of stone before her, Nanani remembered.
Azei.
This was fitting. Ironic, but fitting.
She placed her head below, awaiting the relief from her pain. Gargled voices jumbled with the pain skewing through her mind, a voice bellowing in the background, a language she had no right understanding, and yet she did. She awaited, and yet it never came. The roaring voice grew louder, shaking the earth below effortlessly as the executioner before her fell to his knees.
"HIN SIL FEN NAHKIP BAHLOKI."
---
The warmth from the small crackling fire was the only thing Nanani was sure about anymore. The event’s that transpired only a day prior replayed over and over, her mind trying to make sense of it all. A puzzle with no corner pieces, a book with half the pages ripped out. None of it made sense to the Redguard, and as her head still rattled with a distant, ebbing pain, Nanani began to wonder if her psyche was slipping, wilting under the newfound stress that enveloped her life. Her imprisonment could be explained, even the Dragon that ensured her escape seemed real enough, but his voice. His words. She understood.
Snap.
A broken twig woke the Reguard from her never ending thoughts, crystal clear eyes darting towards the thick brush of forest before her. A small branch that laid in the palm of her calloused hands, it’s bark peeled from tip to root, slipped from her finger tips to the earth below, dirt caking it’s way into the small etching’s she was carving into the trunk. The darkness ensnared around the fading campfire, and for a moment, Nanani caught the glimpse of reflecting eyes peering from the trees.
Two Sides of the Same Coin (Juniper/Evangeline)
#w; Evangeline#os; two sides of the same coin#HERE IT ISSSS#its long#and garbage#long garbage whoo whoo
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Character Basics - Part Three
Health
llnesses (if any): Juniper suffers from crippling migraines. They started off as mere headaches as a child and capsized after she departed for Skyrim. She finds them at their worst near the presence of the dragons, their booming voices bellowing through her head with words she understands in a tongue shes unfamiliar with.
Sleeping habits: Juniper doesn’t sleep well. Memories keep her awake while nightmares keep the Redguard from having a restful nights sleep. The bags under her eyes are hard to hide, telling the story of what little sleep she does get.
Eating habits: Normal, if not a bit picky. Juniper isn’t accustomed to the food in Skyrim, though she doesn’t complain about the food she is able to receive, or a full belly.
Any unhealthy habits: Juniper tends to drink almost every night, and deep down, she hates herself for who she was and for what she did. Before she finds the meaning of her life in Skyrim, Juniper has little care for her own wellbeing and will often put others before herself, even at her own cost.
HISTORY:
Early Life: Juniper was born in Sentinel, the Capital City of Myrkwasa where she resided for the majority of her life. Her father was a vile man; Naruk was the leader of a widely known and feared coterie that homed skilled mercenaries and pirates, Juniper included. She was just a child when her father brought her into his blood work, killing off any childhood innocence the girl might’ve had at the young age of ten. Juniper craved to appease her father, wanting nothing more than to make him proud and as she grew older, she became the best in the coterie, both on land and at sea, with her name well known throughout the Alik’r desert. Juniper controlled a ship in Naruk’s name, spending a lot of her time out at sea amongst her crew. It wasn’t long before another member caught her eye, a man named Azei.
Where they are at present: Juniper now resides in Skyrim. After her banishment, Juniper fled for the border where she was ultimately arrested, along with several stormcloak soldiers.
Most Painful Experience in One's Life: The death of her fiancé, Azei. A former mercenary of her own fathers coterie, Azei was a man whose kindness often got the better of him. After refusing to kill a young boy, Azei was sentenced to death in his place by the command of Juniper’s own father, and it was to be done by the woman herself. For the first time in her life, Juniper disobeyed; she refused to carry out with his orders, a decision that left her bloodied, scarred, and broken. Juniper was to fight her father for Azei’s freedom, and when she lost, so did he. Brutally, Naruk beheaded the man in front of his daughter before banishing her from Hammerfell, ordering she never return unless she wanted the same fate.
Traumas/Psychological Scars from the Past: Juniper’s childhood was trauma wrapped in a silk blanket. She was handed life on a silver platter, and yet the first time she ever received love was when she met Azei. Because of this, Juniper often recluses herself from people, afraid of having everything only to lose it again. She often recollects on the vile actions she carried out in her fathers name, the guilt leaving her breathless and a mere shell of her former self.
Relationships
Parents/Guardians: Juniper had a very distant relationship with her parents. Naruk, her father, was a morally wrong and wicked man, wanting nothing more than to further his goals at the expense of anyone that stood in his way. Juniper’s mother, Nilu, was detached from her daughter, stripping the young girl of any parental love. Juniper sought out to please her parents, whether it was academically or physically, though their ways distilled a feeling of unworthiness in their child.
Siblings: Juniper, at the time of her banishment, was an only child.
Any enemies, villains, or rivals, and how did this come to be: Naruk’s entire coterie is a considerable rival of Juniper. She often tries to avoid any contact with the wandering Alik’r warriors that scatter throughout Skyrim, afraid of word getting back to her malicious father of her whereabouts.
Friends & Companions: Juniper eventually finds companionship in the Thieves Guild after one of the leader’s persistent attempts to get her to join. She’s stand offish at first, weary to allow them into her life, but soon finds herself accepted into their family. On her travels throughout the land of Skyrim, Juniper also finds herself in the company of a crass older woman that attempted to rob her on their first encounter. Though Evangeline is unbecoming to most, the two form an odd friendship that prevails through their time apart, both often finding each other again and again.
Love interest (if there is one): The last thing Juniper is looking for in Skyrim is love. The death of Azei weighs on her mind every day and she finds it hard to move on from the grief. As she spends more time with the Guild, Juniper can’t decide if she finds the red headed leader charming in a way, or if it’s the mead she plasters through to silence her on going mind.
SKILLS/ABILITIES:
Areas of Expertise: Juni is both skilled on land and at sea. She lead a vessel for her father’s coterie with a group of pirate’s and knows her way around a ship. Though she is skilled with many weapons, Juniper excels most with hand to hand combat and dual wield.
Combat style: Juniper’s fighting style has changed since her time away from Hammerfell. Use to, she’d attack without remorse, eager to get a job done. Now, she prefers a more defensive fighting style, using her bo staff as a means to debilitate her enemies rather than kill them. Shes quick on her feet and uses her rivals force against them, making sure to always have the upper hand.
Preferred weapon: Bo staff.
Special abilities or unusual skills: The Thu'um. Juniper stumbles over a strange, cosmic like encrypted wall on an odd job, it’s glowing, foreign words whispering through her mind. After she encounters her first dragon and its untimely death, she finds herself able to speak the language of the dragons.
GENERAL/OTHER:
Hobbies/past times: Juniper whittles in her spare time, a hobby she picked up during her time in Hammerfell. She also has partial skill in blacksmithing, and the bo staff she carries is one she made on her own.
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A Skyrim concept I find fascinating and terrifying to think about: the idea of the Dragonborn’s Voice abilities growing far, far beyond what we see them achieve in-game.
You’re jumped by a wolf on the road, but all you do is turn your head and say ‘krii.’ The beast crumples in mid-leap. A bandit ambushes you, thinks you’re easy prey - but you stand motionless, stare at them. ‘Krii lun aus,’ and they drop to their knees, gasping for breath as their life essence trickles away until they’re still. You don’t even need to raise your weapon.
A crime or a misunderstanding lands you in jail. Feim. You pull your wrists through the chains and step through the bars. Finally home after a long day of fighting, you mutter feim and step out of your armour, letting it fall through your body and clatter to the ground.
Storm Call. With time, with practice, you learn how to control the lightning completely, so that it no longer strikes your allies. You can choose exactly when and where it hits, scorching the life from your enemies with surgical precision. There’s nowhere for them to hide.
Fus ro dah. The Shout tears up trees at the root, sends dragons smacking into mountainsides, rips buildings to their foundations.
Dragon Aspect. As your connection to the dragon souls inside you deepens, you notice that you’re not just growing ethereal armour. You can rip apart rock with the ghostly talons that shimmer around your fingers. You can lash people to the ground with the tail. And then the day comes when you stand at the edge of a cliff, breathe in deep, spread the shining wings - and take flight.
You barely need to catch your breath between Shouts anymore. You ghost around the battlefield, turning ethereal when your enemies attack and then - wuld nah kest - rushing in to strike the moment you blink back into existence. You freeze half of them solid with Ice Form and turn around to burn the rest to ash with a long, long jet of fire from your mouth.
What I’m saying is, the Dragonborn is an unstoppable force of nature, and I wonder how much effort it takes for them to keep all that power under control.
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Character Basics - Part Two
Physical Appearance
Height: 5’4
Weight: 125 pounds
Eye color: Silver, almost crystal clear. Her eyes contrast dramatically against her dark skin, and are the only color of eyes acclaimed in her family lineage. Her parents were taken back at her birth, mistaking Juniper for being born blind.
Skin color: Very dark skinned
Shape of face: Round, yet distinguished.
Distinguishing features: Her body is scattered with various scars and dark sun spots. An ugly, prominent scar resides over Juniper’s right eye, a parting gift given to her from her father. It starts right above her eyebrow and trails down, ending on her cheekbone.
Build of body: Juniper’s body mass is mostly muscle, making her very toned and fit. She’s flat chested, but carries a more womanly figure below.
Hair color: Ebony black
Hair style: Long dreads that reaches past her buttocks when down, usually adorned with a few scattered pieces of silver jewelry. Juniper often changes the style, preferring to keep her hair up in a messy bun most of the time with stray pieces falling from the side or back.
Complexion: Aside from the very prominent scar and sun spots, Juniper’s complexion is clear.
Posture: Juniper usually slouches when sitting, though stands tall with her shoulders back.
Piercings: Only one: A simple, silver stud placed right above her cupid’s bow.
Typical clothing: Juniper’s clothing is very cloth based. Bandages cover her chest, arms, and legs, following down to the heels of her feet. She wears a black Choli, a midriff-baring blouse that stops short right above her navel, and usually has a dark robe, along with her scarf, to cover over her frame. Zouave pants help Juniper move quickly, along with the simple, black leather boots she wears.
Other outfits: (like disguises or P.J’s.): In the harsher regions of Skyrim, Juniper will acquire more robes to keep her warm, even animal furs. She finds the animal pelt blankets to be suffocating and often sleeps in just her Choli and underwear.
Personality
Good Traits/Habits: Juniper is a very patient woman and carries a good heart, even under her sometimes rough exterior and bloody past. The exile from her homeland changed Juni in more ways than one; she found humility, humbled herself, and even gives most of the money she earns from the guild jobs to those less fortunate in Riften, keeping only enough to get by. Juniper makes a point to completely change herself, to repent for her horrible actions, and ultimately follows a more pacifist lifestyle, refusing to have another person die by her hands ever again.
Bad Traits/Habits: Back in Hammerfell, Juniper indulged in the blood money she received from her father and his coterie, never bothering to question their innocence or prerogative. She carried out heinous deaths against her father’s enemies; he commanded, and she obliged. Juniper only stopped and fought back when the life of her fiancé was on the line; she only questioned her actions when her own life and happiness was at stake. Juniper was selfish, self-absorbed and privileged, willing to do what she had to do to please her father and continue her lifestyle.
Education: Juniper was homeschooled by her mother and hired scholars, ensuring she was given a knowledge based education, along with the physical training she went through as well.
Fears: Though Juniper hides most of her turmoil’s, she fears a lot. She is reluctant to get close to people only to lose them again, as she did her fiancé. She fears failure, and most of all, herself.
Personal goals: Starting off in Skyrim, Juniper lived day by day, healing herself from the emotional and physical trauma her father left behind, while also facing the crippling guilt of her actions. She had no personal goal in the beginning; Juni only wanted to exist, and on some days, she didn’t even want that. After the Call of the Greybeards is heard and she heeds their yells, Juniper finally accepts her role as the Dragonborn with the goal to not only save Skyrim, but also reach out and understand the dragons as well.
Introvert/Extrovert: Introverted.
Quirks: Juniper has a habit of blankly staring at people, her near creepy eyes making most uncomfortable when she does. Her hands are hardly ever idle; whether she’s trailing her fingers around the brim of a tankard, or whittling a piece of wood around a campfire, Juni can’t help but fidget. She often twirls her staff around out of boredom.
Method of Handling Anger or Rage (Repress, throw things, etc): Repression. Anger is something that comes easily to Juniper, and yet it hardly ever shows. The most she’ll let slide is a slight agitation. When pushed far enough, and it takes a lot, Juniper is a force to be reckoned with.
Ever Been Arrested?: Ironically, no.
What Are They Like Inebriated?: It’s a coin toss. Most of the time, Juniper becomes melancholy, quietly staring down the bottom of the bottle, lost in her memories. Though on certain occasions, in the right company, Juniper chippers up, enjoying the life she often forgets about.
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Character Basics-Part One
BASICS :
Name: Nanani al-Myrkwasa
Nickname/s: After crossing over the border to Skyrim, Nanani casts away her birth name and decides to go by Juniper, a berry her Mother was very fond of, though hard to attain in the hot deserts of her homeland.
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Date of birth: The 13th day of Evening Star.
Race: Redguard
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Current residence: The cold and vast region of Skyrim.
Relationship status: Single
TRAITS OF VOICE:
Accent (if any): Juniper’s accent would resemble a slight Middle Eastern accent.
Style of speaking: Juniper can be soft spoken at times, often speaking more with her actions and expressions rather than with her words. Her humor can be very dry, self-deprecating even at times, and she’s often blunt and to the point, which tends to rub others in a wrong way.
Volume of voice: Soft and quiet, which makes her use of The Voice even more quaking.
ALIGNMENT:
Class: Ex-mercenary. Juniper joins a thieves guild a short time after the untimely events in Helgen, where she stays for a period of time, even after she hears the call from the Greybeards.
Level of Expertise: Professional. Juniper was groomed and trained at a young age to be a killer; she was second to none in her father’s coterie, gaining the respect and fear of those even in the farthest reaches of the Alik’r Desert.
Profession(s)/Job: In Hammerfell, Juniper followed the commands led out by her father, a feared Mercenary leader that held their entire region under his thumb, along with having strong ties that carried throughout the Desert. After her banishment from her homeland, Juniper found herself in the company of a thieves guild, and ultimately accepted her role as the Dragonborn.
Wealth Status: Juniper lived a very lavish and wealthy lifestyle in Hammerfell, though her status in Skyrim was a complete turn around. She acquires a more humble way of living in the new land, even after joining the thieves guild.
Birthplace: Myrkwasa, a region that resides on the western coast of Hammerfell.
Weapons: Juniper excels with a bo staff, using a custom made one as her main weapon of choice. A small button in the middle can pushed, revealing a set of needle like daggers that can be duel wielded.
Trinkets/Favored Items: The only items Juniper took with her after her banishment was her staff and an intricate, long ebony scarf embellished with gold patterns that radiate the culture from her homeland. It was a gift given to her from her fiance, Azei.
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