NDIaC's Character & Idea Dump

Character concept idea slot #1

Name - Jacqueline Montoya (Formerly James Montoya)
Nicknames - Jackie, Jack
Eye color – green
Hair – brown
Height – 5'5”
Measurements - 34-26-36
Sex - Transwoman
Occupation - Art Director at Androgyne
Relationship Status - Single and very complicated.

Personality – Few people ever really get to know the true Jack. To most, she comes off as calm, collected and aloof, a pretty, intelligent and intimidating despite her stature. Underneath that urbane exterior is a kind soul that just wants to find a place to belong and ultimately be loved. She has a sharp wit, a great sense of humor (even if it is a little dark and sarcastic) and possesses a charismatic magnetism that can draw in just about anyone. Jack is quick to smile, quicker with a sarcastic comeback generally tries to see the positives that life has to offer. Her general nature is laid back, she likes to have fun and keeping stress levels to a minimum. Even in her professional life Jack likes to have fun, but she never lets that get in the way of getting the job done. To those that make it past the thick emotional barriers she’s erected about herself, Jack can be a fiercely protective and loyal friend, or a caring and sensitive lover. Her desires run deep and Jack is known to flirt pretty hard with those that she finds attractive, even if she really has no intent of taking it further. It’s a little bit hypocritical, but no one’s perfect. If Jack had a flaw it was her compulsive nature about her looks. She was simply obsessed with looking good, from hair to makeup to clothing, she as always crisp, clean and stylish without being too ostentatious. She is the type to dress up even when she was going out, that was just Jack. Her style of dress was classy tomboy, always in trousers and button down shirts; while there were times she did dress down those were few and far between. Jack just liked to look good.

Jack’s confidence applied itself to the bedroom more often than not. When she finally decided that she wanted someone and got them where she wanted them, she could be very aggressive and dominant. Though there were times when she preferred to be the one pursued and persuaded between the sheets, Jack usually reserved that spot for people she truly cherished.

Background – Born James Montoya, Jack learned early on in life that nothing was black and white. She had always been different, the youngest of three children she had been the baby, the one their mother dotted on constantly. She wasn't into sports like her brother and had more interest in dressing up the family dog in T-shirts and silly hats (of course with sunglasses). She was quiet and shy, rarely spoke unless spoken to and preferred reading and video games to real life. Always a small and delicate thing, Jack was constantly picked on and bullied at a very young age, at school, at home by her siblings and even their father who just couldn't understand her. She quickly learned to grow a thick skin and sharpened her tongue, the only way she knew how to fight back. But a well placed insult offered little protection from fists.

It was early into her adolescence that Jack realized what was wrong, found the missing piece of herself that could make her whole. Only her Mother seemed to understand, even when her father consented it wasn't out of compassion for his child's well being but more so the appeasement of his wife. James became Jacqueline, though more often than not people referred to her as Jack. She had always had a knack for picking things up quickly, knowing a bit about everything but being a master of none. It was a nickname that stuck throughout her life, not that she complained about it. The transition from James to Jacqueline was tough, physically more so than mentally. She had always known she was different, she just didn't know how. With the thick emotional barrier she had created in her youth Jack was able to withstand the intolerance of both family and her schoolmates. Few people in the small town she grew up in could understand, the only real person she could rely on was her Mother but even that relationship finally eroded after her 18th birthday. Jack had always excelled in school, despite the constant hardships she maintained a spectacular grade point average; she could get into any college she wanted to. Creative to a fault, Jack always enjoyed creating things by hand; she especially loved to draw, be it with pen, chalk, markers, just about anything (eventually digital media as well). She finally decided to pick a college with a good Arts Program and never looked back. Jack moved out of state, leaving everything about her past behind for a fresh start at life. At first she kept in regular touch with her mother, though over the following months it became less and less frequent until it stopped completely. The two drifted ways, one of Jack's biggest regrets in life was not trying harder to keep in touch. But she was busy with school, learning all she could while keeping herself alive, clothed and fed. It was a difficult first few years on her own, but Jack managed and blossomed into her own all too quickly. She decided on becoming a Graphic Designer and worked to further that goal, spending almost all her time in that pursuit. Of course, it was college, a time for exploration, fun and bad decisions. Jack came into her own then, finding her own identity and sexuality along the way. She had her fair share of hard partying, though she found time to read the occasional book, work on her own side projects and even play a few tabletop games here and there (the older she got the further she sunk into the closet with her gaming habits). She finally found some acceptance in her life, though in her heart of hearts she often felt like she doesn't belong. It was a melancholy feeling that resurfaced time and time again, her black dog that followed would follow her to the ends of the Earth. They didn't call it emotional baggage for no reason.


Jack earned her Bachelor's in graphic design and managed to get her foot in the door to the fashion world with some help from a few well placed connections. It never hurt to make influential friends, not that Jack was lacking in potential or skill. She got an entry level position at the newly formed fashion company Androgyne and quickly worked her way up the ladder, all the while continuing her education and pushing towards her masters. In a surprisingly short amount of time Jack started to make a name for herself and got a promotion to Art Director.

She made friends easy, though few really managed to get close enough to know the real her. They all saw the confident smile and cool persona she projected all the while hiding behind the thick emotional barriers that carried her through her adolescence and early adulthood. Sexually, Jack was very much liked to straddle the fence. Just as she had been confused with her own gender early on she was never quite sure which side of the fence she preferred. The one thing Jack did know was that she loved a pretty face, she didn't discriminate.
 
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Romy & the hunt for The Immortal Effigy

Day 1 - Assembling the party


The city of Last Bastion stood out like a black welt on a plague victim. It was unsightly and disorganized, sickly black smoke curled into the air from chimneys, while dirty and ugly peasants trudged through the muck covered streets going upon their daily lives. All in all life in the city was brutal and hard, but it was still better than the wilderness that surrounded it. For most people that is.

Last Bastion had gotten its name from the fact it was the only bit of civilization for thousands of leagues in every direction. Nestled on a peninsula that stretched from the Straights of Sorrow and into the Sea of Despair, Last Bastion had clawed its way from nothing but a salt encrusted rock in the matter of decades. Now it was a hustling hub for merchants and adventurers alike. Many traders came through the city peddling wares that were highly illegal or frowned upon it more civilized areas of the world. Those with enough gold could easily buy the influence they needed to sit upon the city council, which ruled on high from their gilded thrones. Money was what made the wheel turn in Last Bastion, as it did in most places; one could find almost anything their heart desired in this corrupt city for the right price.

That was the very reason that Romy Min’irini had made the dangerous trek to this far flung part of the uncivilized world. A few scholars that focused on the obscure and strange called the city home. It was their knowledge that Romy sought, that and a few helpful and expendable hands couldn't hurt. It had taken her a lot of hard work and dedication to get here, along with more than her share of gold and gems. Romy was an adventurer by trade, risking life and limb for glory and gold on a daily basis. It was a tough and often deadly career choice, but by the Gods…the profit! If one managed to make it through a few years of adventuring they could retire and live the life of comfort from their exploits. But to this catfolk Summoner, it was more than just about the money and prestige. Rational thinking or common sense had never been one of Romy's stronger traits; she was reckless and short sighted more often than not. There was something in her that wanted more, but figuring out what that more was, now that had been the hard part until just recently.

During a seemingly mundane adventure slaying a Red dragon she stumbled upon a curious parchment in it's hoard. On the crumbling and faded surface Romy learned of a powerful artifact that could bestow upon her just what she had been searching for: the stature of the Gods themselves! It had taken her a lot of work and coin to learn more about the artifact, which she had come to know as the ‘Immortal Effigy’. It was rumored to be able to offer apotheosis to anyone worthy (or lucky) enough to find it and decipher it. Since that time she had devoted her time to tracking down this artifact and making it her own. Romy’s long and impressive career as an adventurer and Summoner extraordinaire made such a grueling task possible, she was far from the mewling young kitten still wet behind the ears when she first took up the mantle of Adventurer. She was a trained and experienced traveler of the world; the very fabric of existence was at her fingertips. The strength of the magic she wielded was incredible in its own right, but it was nothing compared to the mythical ability of a Summoner to call forth creatures from other dimensions and worlds that most didn’t even know existed.

Her appearance was befitting one of such exotic power; she was a Catfolk of prodigious charm and grace. Standing tall for her race, at five foot nine inches, Romy Min’irini was a stunning example of Catfolk beauty. Her frame was svelte and achingly beautifully, ample curved with a sleek, agile grace all her own. She was covered head to toe in a sheath of downy white fur, silky smooth to the touch. Glossy black streaks crisscrossed her entire frame, with two on each cheek. That face was sharp and angular, ravishing and angelic in quality. Her eyes were like two gleaming sapphires, catching the light so brilliantly it almost seemed they shone from within. Her hair was a riotous mop the same color as her fur, though the tips were tinged black as her streaks. A pair of black tipped feline ears poked through that wild mane, perking to and fro with the noises of the city.

That ravishing figure was rather scantily clad, a bit of leather and silk that cinched up her more than ample bosom, pressing them up and together in a tempting display of snow white cleavage. A matching thong of the same silken material hung low on her shapely hips lined by bits of fluffy fur. A thick cloak of a drab gray, trimmed with the same fur hung about her proud shoulders, partially blocking that beautiful frame from view. The only thing that could be seen was her high thigh leather boots, dusty and worn from the road. A thick black striped tail swished heavily behind her, occasionally poking out from the folds of her cloak.

The beautiful Catfolk Summoner stood at the entrance to the east gate. It was a massive structure of stone, metal and wood with two reinforced gates that swung open at the break of dawn and closed shortly after dusk. It was the main entrance to the city for those that traveled by foot or carriage, mostly merchant caravans and adventurers. Romy felt right at home. She had flickered to existence only moments ago, a ripple of drab gray before the white furred feline was there standing beside the well worn dirt road. The tip of her tail poked out from underneath her cloak and twitched lightly, even as her right ear perked forward while the left folded against her hair. The stench of mud and night soil assaulted her senses, her nose wrinkled up and Romy scrunched up her face in a disgusted manner.

“Ah the smell of humanity! I almost forgot how lovely it was…” She said sarcastically, her voice a husky rumble from low in her throat. She raised her right hand and waved it in front of her sensitive nose. Those twinkling sapphire orbs drifted about the impressive structure before her, it seemed to stretch for miles above her head. All around she saw guards bristling with weapons, their armor highly polished and regal looking. The sigil of a stylized hawk’s head emblazoned upon their shields, though what that meant Romy couldn’t recall. It had been ages since she had ventured to the Last Bastion. The feline had kept herself very busy as of late, though necessity had finally drawn her back. With a deep breath she rolled her shoulders and stretched before she stepped out onto the road and causally strolled under the arching gate and into the city proper. Only in a city like Last Bastion could an exotic creature such as herself simply meld into the crowd.

She walked past ogre’s hoisting massive sacks onto awaiting carts, stopped to watch a goblin thug shake down a merchant in the middle of the street and even managed to catch a glimpse of what she thought was a nymph in an iron-wrought cage for sale. It was a pity she had things to do, otherwise she might have stopped for any number of reasons. Whatever vice one had could be found if they looked hard enough. Romy could easily find whatever she wanted, she did have a rather talented tongue, depending on who she used it on it could be silver or deliciously rough. Unfortunately she had to keep focused, while the first part of her plan wouldn't take much effort she knew finding answers to the questions she had was going to require much and more.

After an hour of leg work Romy found herself at an unfamiliar tavern. She stared up at its sign, swinging upon rusty chains. A crude painting of a severed goat’s head gushing blood was flaking upon its surface; she could barely make out the name ‘Bleeding Goat Tavern and Inn’. This was the place? Word on the street was that any adventurer worth their salt could be found right past those dirty, wooden doors. Romy set her jaw and took a step closer, her right hand thrust out and shoved open the door, a blast of hot air and the roar of laughter assaulted her senses as she emerged within the crowded common room.

Barely one eye turned towards the feline as she entered and Romy could see exactly why. A busty humanoid danced erotically atop a centralized, circular stage to a heavy drumbeat, she couldn’t tell just what kind of creature the female was but they were strikingly beautiful. For a moment Romy watched her dance, feeling a tingle of warmth within her loins. It was fleeting, Romy managed to push it down with sheer willpower alone. The tip of her tongue lapped out over her bottom lip and she cleared her throat before striding towards the bar. It was a wide strip of well polished wood with barely enough room for the patrons that stood before it. With a confident look Romy drew up and gracefully slipped her way between two burly half-orcs. Her arms squeezed in before her, pressing those lush globes of fur and flesh together further before she leaned in against the bar and gave a sharp whistle. It was loud enough to be heard over the din of the crowd and catch the grizzled bartender's attention. He turned his head to look at her for just a second before going back to what he was doing, then back at her as if it took his mind a second longer to realize what he had seen.

Romy gave a little wiggle of her shoulders, which caused her upper frame to shift and her breasts to jostle enticingly. She wasn’t above giving a little show of the goods to get what she wanted. A playful and knowing smirk drifted out over her plush lips as the bartender approached. There was no denying the way his eyes wandered over every bit of her he could see, along with the burly men at either side of her.

“What’ll it be?” He asked, his mouth barely moving his prominent bushy beard. Romy’s ears twitched lightly and perked up at the human before she leaned in further, up on her tippy toes before she finally spoke. Her voice was husky and cracking as it rose in a pitch to be heard over the crowd, “A pint of your hardest and strongest stuff! And the name of the biggest, baddest adventurer here.”

The look that drifted across the man’s face was comical, the high arching brows and the way his beard finally did move, a subtle twitch. Without a word he nodded and bent to retrieve a bottle from behind the counter. He set a wooden mug down in front of Romy and poured a foaming liquid from the bottle, a few drops splashed the bars surface and sizzled and smoked. With the bottle still in his grasp he pointed over her shoulder into the crowd. Without even reaching for her mug Romy turned and looked in the direction the bartender had pointed.
 
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