Per my promise

Here’s the next piece of writing for you, babe. I created a tumblr so that I could keep my character’s stuff together. Meet Viveca Leigh Gideon, a character I’ve created for World of Warcraft (retail) on Wyrmrest Accord.

Roses and Dandelions

If such things as crystal balls that conveyed the past existed, and a person of wilful mind could gaze into the abyss within and view a person’s existence, then one could deduce that Viveca Leigh Gideon lead an extraordinarily dull yet fortunate childhood. Born in April some twenty or so years ago, a snow white babe if there ever was one made two proud parents of Rose and Jachaery Arterton. Since her conception, the pair had found nothing but luck in their lives. During pregnancy, Rose hardly fell ill, and though her husband insisted on bed rest in the end, it’s said that she could walk about, work the gardens, and keep the kitchen going without much fuss. There were no unusual complications during the birth of Viveca, their one and only daughter, and she took to the breast without any inconveniences. The babe was hardly ever sick, and she was without collick. She slept through the night, and grew to each upon routine. The sound of her father’s laugh was hardly matched by the song of her mother, and both aided in keeping the child mostly happy throughout the formative years of her life.

Though they never had enough to dress of value or buy frivolous things, Viveca’s parents did well to be certain she wanted for nothing. The thing was, though, that Viveca hardly seemed to want much more than they had. From her mother, she learned to garden, learned the plants and their uses. From her father, she learned to fight. He refused to teach her with a blade, but unarmed, she could get in a few punches before fleeing for her life if the situation rose for it. Growing up, she knew she would take over the apothecary of her mother’s creation and Viveca accepted this with hardly any resistance.

For years, the Artertons appeared untouched by time, fame, or wealth. Kingdoms fells, Theramore Isle grew stronger, and the Kul Tiras were proud members of the Alliance still. The first mark of tragedy to fall upon the happy trio was the assumed loss of her father, one of many who sailed in the fleets for the Alliance under the Kul Tiras banner. Though Viveca, in a morbid fashion, had been prepared for the potential loss of her father ever since she truly understood his line of work and the risks involved, Rose Arterton took this news hard. She was never quite the same.

This left Viveca to man the apothecary, to seek the sales. She had to use the soil herself, will the plants to join her in keeping up the family’s money, cook and clean in a house meant for three, and into growing from a young girl into a woman, she had to keep up her guard for would-be suitors. She could not bare the thought of leaving her mother behind, and there would be no guarantees she could get her to join her wherever she went. It would just be best for all involved if Viveca let that part of her life slide by.

However, even for the luckiest of us, life has a funny way of forcing a person along when they become too stagnant.

The man she came to know as Arrick Gideon entered her life in the same way many greet Theramore Isle, a boat. Though he never gave her a clear answer on why he happened to be there that day, the moment they met, he insisted he never wanted to leave without her. The prospect of her daughter getting married seemed, for a short time, to heal Rose Arterton’s grief. Infatuated with the pair almost as much as they had become infatuated with each other, none were surprised by the announcement of their engagement.

This, though a joyous occasion altogether, was the first major decision Viveca would make for herself.

When Rose claimed she would keep up the apothecary there, Viveca left her stubborn mother in Theramore and sailed back to the Eastern Kingdoms with Arrick. Across the sea that took her father, Mrs. Viveca Leigh Gideon was eager and anxious to take on the new responsibilities of being someone’s wife in a land she couldn’t remember ever having seen before, in a family she’d never yet met.

With luck ever on her side, any tension or ill-will addressed to the woman who would steal the heart of Arrick Gideon while he was away from his rather close family was cast aside as soon as they met her. Together with her husband and the land his family owned in the Redridge Mountains, the life the newlyweds led was busy, but not unusual. Arrick, as it turned out, was an explorer who’d dreamed of reaching the unknown areas of Kalimdor as soon as travel there was safe and resources readily available. He was not so much interested in discovering new land as he was procuring rare items and artifacts, learning rich history, and studying the affects of the ancestors on the likes of Azeroth. Much like the relationship with her father, Viveca’s love for Arrick only solidified further when he was away and burst with enthusiasm when he returned.

In the months that he was gone, Viveca grew close to the soil of their land and began to work it once more. As soon as she’d sprouted this idea and grown comfortable with the life she now had… Once again, life forced a hand.

Rumors of Theramore’s destruction came swiftly to her hears in waves of people having found out sooner than later, and even aftermore. Well wishes and condolences were sent to Viveca on behalf of her mother’s death counted among the others, and worry grew in the pit of her stomach for the sake of Arrick’s life.

Fortunately for the Gideons, Arrick appeared to be no where near the catastrophes that took place during and just after Theramore’s demise. He returned home the following winter just in time for Winter’s Veil, and since the recent events and then the cataclysm that shook the world, the lovers decided home may be the best place for him to be until stability was a part of their every day life again.

And so the garden and apothecary they grew only flourished in Lakeshire, where Viveca set up post once a week and made decent enough profit to continue living. Over the years, Arrick’s own parents and extended family began to perish. Some to the war, some to the events of the world, some to taking risks beyond their expertise. Yet, Arrick remained alive and for Viveca, this was all she could ask for.

Enter in the most recent invasions of the Burning Legion and you have yourself the backdrop for another unfortunate event in the otherwise extraordinarily lucky life of Viveca Leigh Gideon.

To be continued…

And then, to make things current:

Poor Unfortunate Souls

The latest invasions from the Burning Legion last season came, conquered, and destroyed thousands upon thousands of lives in the blink of an eye. One moment, time stood still and while life wasn’t absolutely perfect, it wasn’t a tragedy for just one fucking minute on Azeroth.

But, like all good things, Arick’s life came to an end before Viveca’s eyes.

“Travel to Westfall, he says,” Viveca teased her husband from behind the caravan. The pair were on horseback riding alongside a cousin’s caravan as they took to Westfall in hopes of taming land that was otherwise recognized as untameable. Jokes had been made about the poor condition of Westfall’s soil, and even further serious comments had been made about how this had directly affected the hunger strike in the countryside. Surrounding the pair and the caravan of luggage were a dozen or so volunteers to guard them, though all would be paid if Arrick had any say in the matter. Beggars with haunted faced and swollen eyes looked up on them as they passed, and the bravest of these even bothered to come closer with anger. They never made it far.

“It’ll be fun, he says,” she continued to tease him, and only when he looked over his shoulder at her and tossed the blonde mane of his did she smirk up and blow him a kiss with her gloved palm.

“Come now, country living has done you wonders. You went from some sea urchin to a right farm girl in no time.”

“I can hardly claim our garden a farm,” Viveca laughed up at him with mirth, shaking her head. “And there’s a difference, darling. This place has.. little hope. It would take a miracle, more than that to get it back on it’s feet.”

“It’s their choice where my cousin decides to start and waste away his inheritance. We aim to serve our family, remember?” His horse, on command, lingered back a bit to walk in stride with her mare.

“Yes, I remember,” she confirmed.

“If it bothers you that much, we’ll see to it that we return home swiftly,” He reached for her hand with his, and between the pair of horses, they lifted their arms and locked digits. “Maybe,” he added with a wink, “we’ll pick up a few animals on the way. Make it a real farm, eh?”

“And where are you going to keep a few extra farm animals?” The dark haired woman’s laugh almost grew to a pitch that would disturb the evening of sleeping homeless and helpless people, and thus, her husband brought a finger to his lips to remind her.

“We’ve got an extra room in the upstairs, don’t we?” He lifted a brow at her, his voice lower still.

“You’re going to keep chickens and a mule upstairs in the spare bedr–” She began, but realization set in on her hard and fast. Her eyes went wide with admiration and her heart threatened to burst louder than their voices could ever have been. “You don’t mean?”

“I do,” He nodded to her.

It had been a point of conversation at once point, certainly, but between the pair it had been decided the world simply wasn’t worth raising a young boy or girl in until it was a bit more stable, safer. They were waiting, though exactly what for, Viveca had never known.

“And you think now is the proper time?” Viveca questioned, her heart in her throat with all her hopes and dreams.

“I’ve been doing some thinking,” the tone of his voice grew firm, serious. The blonde brows that knitted on his face were a telling sign that he’d already made the decision and wouldn’t be swayed. “There’s no point waiting for a world that will never be perfect. Our world wasn’t perfect when we were born, you know.”

“Oh, Arrick,” She breathed, straining to keep her voice quiet despite how loud she’d wanted to shriek with delight. “I agree! I mean to say, we should! When we get back, then?”

It was one of those moments where the light in her eyes threatened to stay there forever, daring the world to throw whatever it could at them for she would never falter in her faith.

The world listened, or, someone from another world did. The same sky that caused her eyes to glitter with joy grew dark, disturbed and outlined in green. Funnels from deep clouds above sprung from the heavens and pulsed into the ground all around them as demons of all shape and size began to walk through various portals all about the countryside.

“Go! Go with her, now! Eight of you go, and take her back!” Arrick wasted no time with the orders, and Viveca both loved and hated him for it.

In protest, despite the fear that prickled her spine, she began to slide off of her horse and run towards him in defiance. His horse led a charge to speed up to the caravan and attempt to turn it around, to take it to safety where there was none. As her feet hovered above the ground, a hand swooped in and gripped her by the waist, pulling her up into the air and pinning her to their chest. Another arm grabbed at her flailing legs, shouting at her of all the times to be stubborn, this was a time to flee. “He’ll be joining us. He’ll be right there. He’s going to meet us in Goldshire. Let’s go, m’lady!”


No one, not even Viveca could convince herself that anyone would be there to reclaim her from Goldshire. This last memory with her husband would be all she had left of him in Redridge.

I want flatlands
I never cared about money and all its friends
I want flatlands

I want flatlands
I don’t want precious stones
I never cared about anything you’ve ever owned

I want flatlands
I want simplicity
I need your arms wrapped hard around me
I want open plains and scattered trees

I want flower fields
I want salty seas
I want flatlands soft and steady breeze
bringing scents of lined-up orchard trees
dripping heavy with pears and dancing leaves

I want flatlands
will you go there with me

when it’s said in the dark and you know it’s always there
when it’s dead in our heart but your mind is unafraid
when it’s said in the dark and you know it’s never coming back
when it’s there in your heart in your mind you set it free

Love you,

Kettle

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