noumalatu replied to your photoset : [So far EU’s been fun, J’hasi finally gets to live…
[Makes me wish I didn’t play on the NA server. Vvardenfell is oodles of fun to quest in.]
[I have a higher level chara on NA, so I’d be down with playing with you there too :D]
The Khajiit frowned, then looked down at his clothes.
“Uhhhmmm…the jacket is from a friend, the shirt I got from a shop in Winterhold, and the pants…
M’not sure where I got the pants.” J’hasi looked up with a grin, showing the stranger his bandage-wrapped hands.
“These are a combination of myself and a healer’s efforts. Stellar job, they did. I like your scarf, by the way, it looks warm!”
The Khajiit paused, a long strip of what looked like meat hanging from his mouth before he slurped it up.
“It hashn’t killed me yet. M’hungry.” he mumbled, frowning a little at the stranger with one cheek bulged out full of food.
“What the hell did you do, Darg?!” J’hasi thrust his spear forward, catching the bandit under their ribcage, blood quickly blossoming out from the wound to soak into the cloth and leather, then drip onto the sand. Moments later another bandit swung at him, the darker Khajiit dodging the heavy head of a warhammer and falling back to his hands, then springing back onto his feet, spear still dripping. The tawny alfiq sprang onto the one with the hammer, claws sinking in before the light of a spell lit up the smaller Khajiit’s paws, and he sprang off to the sand, the bandit turning on their friends with vicious fervor.
‘This one made them a very generous offer. They refused, so this one took what was needed and left.’
“You stole from them?!” J’hasi let out a hiss of frustration between bared teeth, going after the last unoccupied member of the small group that had ambushed them, the one currently trying to shoot Windviper.
‘This one does not understand what you mean by stealing. It was there, this one needed it.’
“It wasn’t yours, Darg! By the Hist, you’re the worst this thrice-forsaken sandpit has to offer!” he snapped, throwing his dagger to strike the bandit in the back with a thump, arrow flying off in an awkward arc in another direction. J’hasi looked back at the others being struck again and again with the spiked face of the warhammer with a wince, Dargzalzi trotting towards him and sitting down, lifting a paw up to delicately lick the blood away.
‘This one has gotten what he came here for. Get that…ugh…black monster over here so we can l-HEY!’ J’hasi growled faintly, lifting the alfiq by the scruff to look him directly in the eye.
“Shut. Up. You’ve slowed us down for…whatever the hell you were after. What was so damn important you had to make us lose half a day’s worth of travel?” Dargzalzi’s eyes darted from J’hasi’s to the bandit still frenzied, beating the remaining group members to bloody pulps.
‘…this one needed a…bit of a pick-me-up… And a crystal. It was very important.’ J’hasi’s muzzle wrinkled.
“Sugar and a rock? Really?” Darg’s fur puffed, legs splaying out in indignant protest.
‘This one is suffering from the shakes, and the crystal is very important for his research.’ The darker Khajiit’s face split into a humorless smile.
“Well, that makes everything right as rain then.” he hissed, then sharply whistled for Windviper.
“In fact, I’m so happy that you wasted my gods-damned time, there’s a cozy saddlebag with your name on it…”
The Khajiit stared at the mer for a long time, tail slowly flicking back and forth behind him, trying to figure out where he’d seen them before. He was too drunk to remember… The odd scent on them, mixing with the scent of…books? Books and flowers… Whatever the weird other scent was, it was pulling up memories of that scuffle in Bruma ages ago, but this Altmer clearly was not the mer he’d seen then. They didn’t have the robes of a Thalmor, just dark clothes. Maybe a librarian? That made more sense, with the scent. Or a bookseller. J’hasi nodded, seeming satisfied with this decision before he beamed at them, ears pricked.
“Y’shmell nicshe… Like…flowersh’n’shtuff… ‘N booksh…” He giggled, hiccuping before groping for his tankard, tipping it back to finish it off, tail wiggling to keep his unsteady balance. It was then he noticed the mer’s eyes, tail flicking upwards in surprise.
“Wow… Y’got…glowy-glowy in the…” he trailed off, forgetting the Cyrodilic word for it, looking a little lost and confused while his hand hovered over the bar, clawtip tapping as he tried to remember. He shook his head.
“S’pretty… Glowy…shtuff…” The Khajiit looked down into his empty tankard.
“…s’empty…” he muttered with disappointment.
J’hasi has the sort of body type that he’s scrawny, but he does have some muscle (though the fur tends to hide all of that, esp since it’s been getting thicker since he’s set foot into Skyrim). If he didn’t have the fur hiding it all, you’d be able to see the bit of a 6-pack he’s got (though not really defined, as it’s from working/fighting/etc.), and his ribs stick out a bit. When he was hanging around with Maarzi in Elsweyr, he got a lil bit of a tum on him, but it flattened out once he was on his own again.
His shoulders are a little narrow, and his pecs aren’t really that big, average-ish. His nipples are small and a darker color than his skin, but they’re (thankfully) protected from the cold by all the fur surrounding them. They’re not perfectly round, a little ovalish. He has thicker fur on his lower tum and on the middleish area of his chest. He has a long torso.
TL;DR he’d look fairly toned but scrawny if the fur wasn’t in the way. So he just looks scrawny until you dunk him in water.
The Khajiit’s nose twitched under his hood, starting to sniff with drowsy interest at the first whiff of what smelled like books. He blinked slowly, realizing he had dozed off where he had stopped to check his map, supported by the wall he was leaning on. His eyelids felt heavy as he yawned, tongue curling out of his mouth as he pushed the hem of his hood up a little to rub his eyes. He sleepily opened an eye to look for the source of the scent that had roused him in the first place.
He felt like he damn near choked on the back of his own tongue, jaws snapping shut on the front as he sharply inhaled. He quickly swallowed, his pained tongue retreating behind his teeth as he caught his breath, feeling his hands start to shake at the sight of dark, gold-trimmed robes not twenty feet from where he was standing.
‘Damn it.’ he thought with a mild undercurrent of panic, thinking where he could go to keep out of sight without suspicion. The mer looked a bit older, yes, but the last time he underestimated an elder mer, he’d ended up with a lightning bolt to his chest. He did not intend to make the same mistake twice.
J’hasi rolled up his map, flicking his tail as he turned to a street that led the other direction of the justicar, hopefully where there was more people and a way out of the city walls. He could sleep later. Out in the forest. Far, far away from here.
vvardenfellcat 