HI, I am Nanuk.
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Comment, message me, or just say hello on my user page.
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I am random. I am probably insane.
I take forever to upload anything.
And my interests change constantly.
When Chatan was a young Iop, his life consisted of three things. What was for dinner, who was going to play with him that day, and when his father would return home from the sea. As a fisherman’s son he grew up spending the long summer days wondering where his father was at that exact moment. Every night, his mother, Mayan would him in and tell him to hurry up and go to sleep, daddy might be home tomorrow.
And every morning he would wake up to find her standing alone in the kitchen, usually making breakfast or watering the lilies in their window box. But sometimes, she was sitting quietly at the table, head in hand, blue eyes the same as his own red with tears. At that time he didn’t understand what she was so sad about, but he always made it a point to cheer her up with a hug or a request to train in the yard instead of play.
When Niyol did return from his grueling work on the fishing rigs, he was always sure to sweep Mayan off her feet practically singing apologies to them both, offering pearls and other small trinkets from his travels as recompense for his long months away. Mayan accepted it for what it was, always greeting him with a kiss and a punch to the shoulder. They would go home, Niyol would take up the cooking during the winter months that he wasn’t working, and Mayan would go to work on the village gates as a guard.
As he grew older, Chatan learned that despite their faults, his family was more stable and loving than most. He knew too many kids his age with separated, decreased or just plain absent parents. He learned to be grateful for that. He also learned to be grateful for his own strength, as those same kids picked at him for every insignificant thing that he did.
But if there was any one thing his parents had taught him it was to not hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. And none of them did, so he let it be and continued on a happy go lucky boy with a smile and a not-so-witty comment for everyone.
Years passed in this manner, Chatan grew and learned to cook breakfast to cheer up his mother on those odd summer mornings, and to sing the same shanties his father did to pass away the winter days working on the nets to earn a little extra keep. Mayan taught him how to a hold a real sword the summer he turned twelve, and his father taught him to hold a fishing spear the same winter. When he was sixteen he decided to follow his mother’s footsteps and join the Bontarian Guard. It would take him away from home for a few years to do his training, but he promised to return when he had finished his training and year of in-city service.
Bonta was a bustling city and while the training yards and guard certainly kept him busy, he always found time to at least write home. About the friends he made, the strange new people he met, the long long nights spent patrolling the streets on watch duty. He came to hold a certain love for those nights, the quiet reminded him of his little fishing town. It was a much needed comfort to his homesickness.
One that was wrecked about six months into his training by a Rogue who felt the need to ruin his peace and quiet with smoke bombs, vandalism, fancy sword work, and general disturbing of the peace. Every other night she was out causing trouble in the city, laughing maniacally as she raced across the rooftops like she owned them, dropping colorful smoke bombs that scorched their outrageous colors into the pristine white stone work around them.
Over night this one girl became the bane of the Bonta Guard. Their drill instructors pushed them harder during the day, sighting their inability to catch her as a reason for more rigorous training. And at night she was always sure to reappear to cause yet more mayhem, taking on anyone who came across her with the finesse of a well trained swordswoman.
Chatan was really starting to dislike her. He tried not to judge, he didn’t know what kind of life she had or what she might have been through, but damn it all could she give it a rest for just one night?
After a month of near sleepless days or training and trying nights of running around wondering where she would strike next, Chatan finally came face to face with the Rogue assailant. He had the misfortune of rounding a corner on his normal patrol route to find her lighting off another smoke bomb just inside the unlocked door of a shop. She looked up at him with wide amber gold eyes and a sly grin.
“Stop right now, and come quietly please. I’ve had a long night, and I would really like to go to bed before the sunrises.” Chatan said drawing his sword from its sheath. He would really rather go back to bed, but he also wanted to see just what made this one girl so impossible to catch. She really didn’t look like much, no older than himself certainly, even with the sword hanging at her side and her now renowned kill, he should be able to take her.
“Ahhh, terribly sorry, but that’s not going to fit into my schedule or the evening. I’ll see if I can squeeze you in next week maybe?” She said flipping her long black hair over her shoulder in what he thought was meant to be a flirtatious manner. He would admit, she was sort of pretty. The simple mask and long red cloak veiled the majority of her appearance, but her eyes and soft face betrayed beauty beneath the mystery. But it wouldn’t work, if he’d been a lesser Iop maybe, but not him.
“Okay, so we’re doing this the hard way.” It was all the warning he gave her before charging in. She back tracked swiftly, drawing her own blade to block his wide swing. She quickly disengaged and came at him with light, swift jabs. He recognized the fencing style easily, and met her every attack with a careful parry. Her grin got wider as they dueled down the street, backing each other into alleyways and over shop porches. He was almost surprised to find himself smiling in return. When was the last time someone had given him a real challenge aside from his drill instructor? He couldn’t remember, honestly.
Their dual got progressively harder, each one fighting harder now that they had felt each other out. If he could apprehend her he would likely earn himself a few days rest and everyone else a reprieve from their overbearing instructors. He’d be hailed as a hero in the barracks at least for getting rid of the menace.
“Rommel! Up here!” A new voice called out just as they locked blades again. The Rogue glanced up a nearby roof where two more women were waving for her. One a redhead with a strange, bow meow eared, pink head band, the other a Huppermage with billowing black curls that were even darker than the fleeing night. The Rogue, now identified as Rommel, looked back at him before narrowing her amber eyes on him.
He was suddenly shoved back before having his feet swept out from under him. He hit the street with a gasp as the air left his lungs and staring up at the barely dawn sky. The sound of a wick lighting barely registered in his brain but the sharp smell of smoke did. The resulting explosion wasn’t enough to kill him thankfully. But it was enough to send him flying into a building, blinding him and leaving his ears ringing.
Chatan didn’t want to remember anything after that. He hurt too much, he was tired, he was sure to be dragged away by his squad mates for some basic first aid and then thrown right back into training by mid day.
He did not expect to open blurry eyes to softer amber eyes staring down at him worriedly, and hair that was actually a deep blue tickling his face. Ne pale hand rested against his cheek as she looked him over. The redhead and huppermage had descended from their perch and were crowded around him too, the hupper holding up a ball of light that made it even harder to see clearly.
“I swear I did not mean to drop an actual cherry bomb on him. It was an accident.” The Rogue, Rommell was saying as she gently brushed dust and soot of of him. She seemed very concerned that she might have actually hurt him. Come to think of it, no one had ever ended up in the infirmary because of her before. Did she have something against hurting people?
“Yeah sure, and I accidently zapped the twins to Frigost last month.” The redhead said.
“Come one, his friends will be here to collect him soon anyway, we need to go!” The huppermage said tugging on her friend’s sleeve. Rommel looked at him again, concern clear on her face, but got up to leave anyway. The red head waved her hand and created a strange blue portal, ah, now he realized, Eliatrope, and let the huppermage leap through first, Rommel gave him a gentle wave and a crooked smile before she was shoved through by the red head. As soon as the last girl’s foot had disappeared the portal vanished, leaving him lying in the street as the sun rose over Bonta’s streets.
When his quad mates found him a half our later, he hadn’t moved at all. He was still starting at the spot they had disappeared from, musing over the odd trio, and over the Rogue. She had been entrancing, a truly skilled fighter and yet, she had cared enough to check on him after setting off an actual bomb. She had a name now.
“Rommel...” He whispered out loud without meaning to.
“What?” The only other Iop in his squad, Hota, asked as they helped him to it up.
“Her name. It’s Rommel....” He said again, voice seemingly stuck in an awed whisper. He recalled her crooked grin and the almost shy wave she’d given him before leaving. Why was his heart still pounding even after the fight had ended? Why couldn’t he seem to breathe? His mother had described something similar to this once. She said it happened the first she;d met his father.
She called it love.
“I think I’m in love......” He babbled out as he was thrown over someone’s shoulder to be carried back to the barracks. He hung there limp and hurting, and absolutely uncaring. He was in trouble, he was in love!
“Yeah..... you keep telling yourself that, Iop Brain.”
"To be human is to be perfectly flawed."
"Where Destruction leaves ashes,
Beauty will rise up, and create anew."
"A dancer does not dance to get a specific place on the floor,
she dances to enjoy every step along the way."
"Women and cats will do as they please,
men and dogs should just relax and get used to the idea."