Tailing Tragedy: Nicknames
Title: Nicknames
Word Count: about 719
Characters: Kreos Blueeyes, Ian Wavewalker and Anwell Archer, with a cameo by Thal
Warnings: beware Anwell's colorful language, also perhaps revealing some pretty major backstory on my boys
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Kreos swore that if Anwell called him "Blueeyes" again, he would kill him. Size be damned. The archer might have a good foot on him, but he was lanky and ungainly. Much better suited to sniper's work than that of an actual hunter, and a hunter Kreos was. And to die a prey's death seemed fitting for tossing around his surname like that.
Among the Raptori, names were sacred: ritualistically bestowed on every member of the Clan when they came of age. They were named for their skill, or for a striking, unique physical trait. Even after they had been named, Raptori never called each other by surname alone. It was disrespectful. After all, it was not just a name, it was a title. It made you one of the Clan. Kin.
Kreos was earth-toned from scales of his feet, to the hair on his head, save his piercing blue eyes. It was those eyes that had earned him his name... ironic now that they should be the reason for his banishment. He was lucky to still have both of them, though his left one, always hidden behind his bangs, had lost it's coloration, and all sense of sight. Its intense blue now a filmy gray, deeply scarred.
Still, that gave Anwell no right to call Kreos by his surname, as though it were an insult. Despite his protests, Anwell mockingly referred to the shorter Raptori as "Blueeyes". Or sometimes "that fucking idiot". (Kreos didn't take too kindly to that one either.) Kreos still had his pride, and refused to address the taller Raptori as "Archer", though the notion was tempting. He somehow doubted Anwell would care. He didn't know what had brought the archer into the jungle that day, where by chance he ran across Kiz and himself, nor did he know why Anwell seemed in no hurry to get back to his Clan. Hell, Kreos didn't have any idea if the lanky Raptori even had a Clan to go back to.
For whatever reason, Kreos' pride seemed none too hurt about nicknaming Ian. He often, and cruelly, referred to the captain as "Gecko". Not only because his coloration seemed alike in that respect, but the Gecko was a small lizard, too puny to be considered food, and too far removed from the Raptori family tree to be considered Kin. It was nothing. Hardly worth a glance. This would wound any Raptori's pride, but Ian Wavewalker didn't have any Raptori pride. He had a pirate's pride, and that was far, far different.
Ian didn't seem to care, but for whatever reason this didn't deter Kreos from calling him that name. The easygoing captain would merely arch his eyebrows, and then generally ignore whatever Kreos had no doubt demanded of him.
"Cap'n doesn't care, you know," Thal, the Dead End Moon's hulking first mate, mentioned to Kreos off-hand one day. The sturdy Ilfirin had been relocating some of the ship's stock and had happened upon Kreos sneering smugly at the captain's back as he meandered away.
Kreos' visible eyebrow had shot up at that. "Don't be foolish, Ilfirin," he spat. "Any Raptori would be shattered by such a notion."
"Ian Wavewalker stopped being a Raptori years ago. So wipe that stupid grin off your face. It's just a name, and the captain doesn't see it as anything more," was the matter-of-fact reply as Thal vanished below deck.
Kreos had tried several times to form a coherent retort, but the words somehow got tangled together as they left his tongue. Instead, he turned and stomped off, smack into a laughing Anwell.
"Looks like you just got told, Blueeyes."
"Anwell, I will not make this request again. Do not call me that."
"It's just a name, Blueeyes. Get over it."
"You are insufferable."
"And you're a royal pain in my ass, but you don't hear me complaining."
And that had been the end of that. At least for a while. Kreos would cling to his pride until his grave, and Anwell just seemed to enjoy annoying the hell out of him. Ian would just sit calmly by, and watch the two bicker about who was calling who what. He'd learned a long time ago that what you were called didn't matter.
Raptori. Dremec. Ilfirin. Human. They were just names, after all.
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Word Count: about 719
Characters: Kreos Blueeyes, Ian Wavewalker and Anwell Archer, with a cameo by Thal
Warnings: beware Anwell's colorful language, also perhaps revealing some pretty major backstory on my boys
-----
Kreos swore that if Anwell called him "Blueeyes" again, he would kill him. Size be damned. The archer might have a good foot on him, but he was lanky and ungainly. Much better suited to sniper's work than that of an actual hunter, and a hunter Kreos was. And to die a prey's death seemed fitting for tossing around his surname like that.
Among the Raptori, names were sacred: ritualistically bestowed on every member of the Clan when they came of age. They were named for their skill, or for a striking, unique physical trait. Even after they had been named, Raptori never called each other by surname alone. It was disrespectful. After all, it was not just a name, it was a title. It made you one of the Clan. Kin.
Kreos was earth-toned from scales of his feet, to the hair on his head, save his piercing blue eyes. It was those eyes that had earned him his name... ironic now that they should be the reason for his banishment. He was lucky to still have both of them, though his left one, always hidden behind his bangs, had lost it's coloration, and all sense of sight. Its intense blue now a filmy gray, deeply scarred.
Still, that gave Anwell no right to call Kreos by his surname, as though it were an insult. Despite his protests, Anwell mockingly referred to the shorter Raptori as "Blueeyes". Or sometimes "that fucking idiot". (Kreos didn't take too kindly to that one either.) Kreos still had his pride, and refused to address the taller Raptori as "Archer", though the notion was tempting. He somehow doubted Anwell would care. He didn't know what had brought the archer into the jungle that day, where by chance he ran across Kiz and himself, nor did he know why Anwell seemed in no hurry to get back to his Clan. Hell, Kreos didn't have any idea if the lanky Raptori even had a Clan to go back to.
For whatever reason, Kreos' pride seemed none too hurt about nicknaming Ian. He often, and cruelly, referred to the captain as "Gecko". Not only because his coloration seemed alike in that respect, but the Gecko was a small lizard, too puny to be considered food, and too far removed from the Raptori family tree to be considered Kin. It was nothing. Hardly worth a glance. This would wound any Raptori's pride, but Ian Wavewalker didn't have any Raptori pride. He had a pirate's pride, and that was far, far different.
Ian didn't seem to care, but for whatever reason this didn't deter Kreos from calling him that name. The easygoing captain would merely arch his eyebrows, and then generally ignore whatever Kreos had no doubt demanded of him.
"Cap'n doesn't care, you know," Thal, the Dead End Moon's hulking first mate, mentioned to Kreos off-hand one day. The sturdy Ilfirin had been relocating some of the ship's stock and had happened upon Kreos sneering smugly at the captain's back as he meandered away.
Kreos' visible eyebrow had shot up at that. "Don't be foolish, Ilfirin," he spat. "Any Raptori would be shattered by such a notion."
"Ian Wavewalker stopped being a Raptori years ago. So wipe that stupid grin off your face. It's just a name, and the captain doesn't see it as anything more," was the matter-of-fact reply as Thal vanished below deck.
Kreos had tried several times to form a coherent retort, but the words somehow got tangled together as they left his tongue. Instead, he turned and stomped off, smack into a laughing Anwell.
"Looks like you just got told, Blueeyes."
"Anwell, I will not make this request again. Do not call me that."
"It's just a name, Blueeyes. Get over it."
"You are insufferable."
"And you're a royal pain in my ass, but you don't hear me complaining."
And that had been the end of that. At least for a while. Kreos would cling to his pride until his grave, and Anwell just seemed to enjoy annoying the hell out of him. Ian would just sit calmly by, and watch the two bicker about who was calling who what. He'd learned a long time ago that what you were called didn't matter.
Raptori. Dremec. Ilfirin. Human. They were just names, after all.
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