Adventures Of Nauta

Sorry Everyone. It’s a really short one today because I’m exhausted. Hope you enjoy it. Nauta is the Latin word for Nautical. I read it in something this morning and was instantly met with a gorgeous little character. She might become a reoccurring OC.... I dunno yet.

Nauta hadn’t seen land in months. That was a simple fact, so when she caught a glimpse of a shadow on the horizon she was beyond excited. Screaming down the mast “land ho!’ watching the infectious joy spread amongst the crew that was starting to grow tired of each other’s endless company. Standing watch in the crow's nest until the ship was docked alongside the newest port. Relaying instructions to ensure the ship's safe berthing.

“Go, explore. Don’t get lost. Be back by nightfall.” Her father's voice yelled up the mast, watching as she grabbed the rope and swung down towards the decks. Crashing into the rope ladders that supported the mast to scramble down them like she had been doing her entire life.

“Roger that Captain!” A half-assed salute was thrown his way as she leapt over the railing to land in a crouch on the docks. Taking off in a sprint, weaving her way in and out of people until she could safely jump down once more. Toes digging into soft white sand, flying up behind her with the desperate search for adventure.

Nauta paused when she realised she couldn’t see the ship anymore. Fingers trailing across the red clay bank she’d scrambled around as the tide lapped at her feet. Chasing birds that taunted her with every small flight forward.

She was determined to catch them. Laughter carried across the water as she picked a target. Sprinting after it as it took to the skies. It was the breath of fresh air she’d needed, stretching her legs and expelling months of pent up energy as she dotted footprints all over the beach front. Rarely straying onto the grass that laid beside it.

“Nauta.” Her prey was forgotten as she heard her father call her name. Turning to see him standing on the grassy banks with a smile. “Ready?”

“Aye, Papa, where to next?” She darted to his side, arms wrapping around his waist. Face pressed into his chest. His calloused hands ruffling through her hair, smoothing out knots that had made their home in her uncontrollable curls.

“Another adventure Cherie. Another adventure.”

Victoria Vs Sombra - Diary Style.

If there was one thing Victoria Charming hated most... it was cats. With their too sharp claws, bad habit of catching any small rodent that moved, and the fact that they shed EVERYWHERE. So when one little black kitten claimed her as her new carer. Victoria could only do one thing... accept it.

So I borrowed her friend's house, and her cat kept me company whilst I was there. Which gave me this idea - so thanks. I wanted to try writing in diary form again - I’ve done it every time I’ve attempted to keep a personal diary. The dates are in DD/MM/YY format, - and not done every day.

16.02.17

Today was an okay day. I had to stay late at work to finish lazy-Louie's damn reports again. If I do all his work the least they can do is pay me more, but the bosses keep letting it go, and I’m the one that gets in trouble if it’s not done.

It’s been three days and Chad still isn’t home. Stephanie says he won’t be coming back this time, but he will. He always does. Taking his time to cool down before coming home. He loves me.

Anyway. I’m tired. Goodnight.

20.02.17

It’s been a week, officially the longest Chad’s ever been gone. Stephanie still reckons he’s not coming back. She’s wrong. He loves me. I know he does. I’m sure he’ll be home tomorrow.

Nothing else has changed. Holly might be getting me a new job with her, though. I haven’t decided if I want it. I’ve never done anything like that before, but the pay would be better and she says I’d get a lot more respect than I currently do.

21.02.17

I got a call from Chad today. He’s not coming home. Ever. He’s asked me to leave the house unlocked tomorrow so a friend can collect his stuff. I think it’ll probably be Jacob - he normally blackmails Jacob into doing his dirty work. I think heard another female laughing in the background. A familiar laugh. I can’t figure out where I know it from. Maybe I’m in shock. Chad and I have been together since high school. This has to be some cruel prank. Payback from the last fight... It can’t be real... Right?

22.02.17

All his stuff is gone - his clothes were stuffed into black bags and thrown into a car. His friends were pissed to be having to do it - they told me as much. Even let me keep most the stuff we brought together.

I took the day off work to help sort through it all. Jacob said Chad had no intention of coming back. Held me as the realisation that it wasn’t a prank sunk in. That maybe this really was the end. He even called Holly - who insisted on giving Chad back the ring he brought me. She said it would be a permanent reminder of what he ‘threw away’. Her bag is on the spare bed - she’s gonna stay for a while.

29.02.17

I caught up with the girls during my lunch break today, brought up how I thought Chad was going to come back to me any day. Stephanie told me just to move on. Holly just glared at her - I think something's going on between them. Then again, Holly hasn’t really ever got along with Stephanie.

Holly’s boss has offered me an interview - I think I’m going to go. Lazy-Louie went on holiday - unapproved - and dumped all his work on my desk before he left. That’s cool. I don’t care, I didn’t want a weekend off anyway.

Something weird has been happening in my house ever since we got rid of Chad’s stuff. Things keep getting knocked over while we’re out at work. Food’s been going missing. My couch has been messed up. Holly think’s it’s haunted by memories. She’s already looking for a new place for us to rent together. Her apartment is too small for both of us, and... well the haunted thing.

I don’t really want to move. Chad and I bought this place together. Saving pennies throughout university until we could afford the down payment. The mortgage disappearing as we both switched to earning full time. This was our home.

03.03.17

I found out the truth today. Holly broke down and told me when I said I was going out for a drink with Stephanie and her new boyfriend. I didn’t believe her of course. Stephanie and I had been best friends our whole lives... But then I got to our favourite club, and there they were dancing together. Kissing as his hand slid up her shirt.

Before tonight I’d never been in a proper fight or kicked out of a club. I never had to with Stephanie at my side, no one dared pick a fight with her. I’m not no one. She’s in hospital, and so is he. It took three bouncers to pull me away. Three! Holly said she’d never seen me so angry - not even when she’d walked in on one of mine and Chad’s infamous fights.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so betrayed.

10.03.17

I quit my job today. I threw Chad’s stuff onto the lawn today. Smashed the china set he’d bought for my birthday - the one I’d dreamed about since I was a child. I pulled all the photo’s from the frames that had hung on walls since we’d moved in. Smashed frames that had rusted shut after years of staying closed. Pictures that Steph and I had loved and cherished. I couldn’t bare to look at them - or have them in my house.

Holly got home before I could set it all on fire. Ripping the matches out of my hand and leading me into the nearly empty house. A glass pressed into my hand filled with Vodka and strawberry lemonade.

Holly told me that she’d brought Chad’s half of the house off of him with her most recent paycheck - that it was mine to do what I wanted with. I want to burn it to the ground - but she convinced me to rent it out. Make some money from it. She still thinks this place is haunted - things are still moving and disappearing, and I’m sure there's something in my room at night with me. There is never anything there when I turn the light on though - I’m starting to wonder if she's right.

11.03.17

The first day of unemployment - and Holly drags me to work with her. Her boss had forgotten about me until he saw me again. Instantly he dragged me into hair and make-up. Throwing me into the photo shoot with Holly.

Day one as a model. We got home and Holly started teaching me EVERYTHING. She’s been making it look effortless for years. I can’t even remember how to stand - perhaps that fifth glass of Vodka was a bad idea.

I felt something touch me in my sleep last night - I'm sure of it. There was a weight curled up against my leg, but nothing there when I looked. Yet the second the light was off it was back. I slept with Holly the rest of the night, but it was still there.

Tomorrow Holly’s dragging me shopping and to meet her agent to sign me up with him. She isn’t taking no for an answer anymore. She never really did, but she’s been trying to get me to model for years. Don’t tell her, but I actually enjoyed it. Having people fawn over me - it nearly made me forget about Chad.

12.03.17

THERE IS A CAT IN MY HOUSE! Holly found it asleep on my bed when we got home and she carried some of my stuff into my room. It ran the second she noticed it, but she said it looked underfed and abused. She wants to keep the pest. I want it gone. I’m calling animal rescue while she’s on location for a shoot over the weekend.

I saw Chad today, Holly laughed in his face when he tried to talk to me. Her perfectly manicured nails left marks in my arm as she pulled me away. It hurt less than having to face him again. I can’t believe he cheated on me, then dumped me on the phone while he was with her. She was practically my sister. I haven’t told dad yet. He’ll probably go after them both if he knew.

13.03.17

I’m pretty sure the cat slept in my bed again last night. I don’t know how I missed it. There is black fur everywhere. Holly left it out food as we went out to another shoot. Apparently, they really liked me. The agent asked me how much work I want - he’s not having much trouble finding me some. Which is good because I have a whole lot of bills due soon.

Yeah! The cat! The food was all gone when we got back a few hours later. Holly instantly put out more, then sat and stared at the bowl for a few hours, as if it would make the overgrown rat appear quicker. Then she went and brought it a whole bunch of toys and beds and things to keep it entertained while we were out and about. Totally ignoring me telling her that rodent wouldn’t be here long enough to make itself at home.

She seems attached. I’m worried.

17.03.17

It’s been an insane few days. Holly’s Agent called - they had a model pull out due to illness at the last moment and they wanted to know if I could fill in the gap!! The sad thing was I instantly tried to call Chad to tell him the good news... then I remembered that I can’t. He’s not mine anymore. But the shoot with the girls and Holly lifted my spirits again. I’m trying not to think about it or write about it... but it’s almost like a part of me is missing? I mean we’ve been together pretty much our whole adult lives and now he’s just... I don’t know how to explain how I’m feeling right now.

Holly decided to name the rodent ‘Sombra’, Spanish for Shadow - I told her it was stupid. A black cat called Sombra? She says it’s appropriate considering the fact that we never see it but it’s always there. Apparently, she’s also a girl, how Holly knows this I have no clue...

I think the rodents staying for a while. Animal rescue had access to my house all weekend while we were away and they couldn’t find the pest. I know it’s still here, though, the place was a disaster zone when we got back a full bag of cat food scattered all over my kitchen floor... Holly thought it was cute - until I made her clean it up.

18.03.17

Chad stopped by today. Holly wasn’t here, it was just me - I stupidly let him in. I shouldn’t have, in hindsight. He apologised - wanted me back - tried to kiss me... Now I’m really confused. Holly kicked him out the second she got home. Handed me a tub of ice cream and just let me vent. She said he’s just trying to mess with me.

The fascinating thing was that Sombras appeared! The first time I’ve ever seen her! We’ve shared a bed for who knows how long, and the first time I saw her was when she defended me against Chad. Hissing and snarling every time Chad tried to get closer to me. I’ll be honest, I’m thankful that little fluff ball was there to stop me from doing something stupid.

I can see why Holly went and brought food - She’s just a little kitten. Malnourished and covered in scars. I hope she’s been doing better since Holly started feeding her - but I really need to get her to a vet or shelter. Something could be very wrong, or she could have run away from a good home.

Chad’s face when he first saw Sombra was hilarious he knew of my hate of cats, and when she came and stood between us? I thought he was gonna have a heart attack or faint from shock. Totally worth having the little fluff ball fall asleep on my lap.

Over 2 thousand words and a few hours later Imma stop - not because I’m finished, but because if I don’t stop I never will. I feel like that Intro could be misleading - I didn’t really do that much with it, did I... I meant to! Maybe I’ll continue this another time... Who knows?! (not me, that’s for sure).

Also, reflection moment, I don't know if the diary style did this one justice... It was definitely a fun style to write in... but to tell a story? I feel like it lacked detail, emotion and interest, Maybe I will rewrite this in a different style... just for comparison...

Destined - Chapter One

So Imma be honest with ya again.... I’ve been really struggling to write recently. Every time I go to uni I come home more and more dejected, and it’s really hard to find the motivation to get anything done. Now I don’t know how much of this a direct result of my injury and medication, but it is holding me back regardlessly.

The people at Uni, once more, are struggling to grasp the world in which I am setting the story. This time, I want to write a story set in the same world as the popular fanfiction writing trope, The Soulmate AU.

People have tried explaining it, tried to help me see it from their POV, but it hasn’t really helped. In fact, I’ve seriously considered changing my assignment to one that they can understand. Something basic, generic, and boring. Something that’s been done a thousand times over, because at least then I won’t feel like this anymore. But at the same time, that’s not why I write. I don’t write to follow the rules or jump in the footsteps that giants have taken before me. I write to tell my story, my way because no one else can tell the tale like I can.

So I’ve also decided that I’m not going to change my assignment. I’m going to restart it for the fifth time, but this time, I’m going to write it my way. I’m not going to get stuck after half a chapter and spend days staring at a screen wondering how to write my story their way, and if they have a problem, and I fail, so be it. At least I would have stayed true to myself, and the story I’m telling.

So here’s the fifth attempt at a rough draft of Chapter One. I don’t know if I want to end it here, or keep going a little further. Ending it after that phone call rather than before. Let me know what you think?

Chapter One:

Archer bounced his way towards me, visible only by the two cups of coffee spilling everywhere as he ducked and weaved his way through crowds of zombie-like students, all shuffling towards the warmth of the law building. The occasional glimpse of sandy brown hair flashing with each side step closer.

“Dude! I got you coffee, Black, no sugar, just how you like it.” Archer slides to a halt in front of me, still bouncing on the balls of his feet in a failing effort to stand still. Bronzed arm shaking as he offers me the coffee. My fingertips grip the base, ignoring the burn of boiling liquid that accompanies the handover.

“How many have you had?” I eye up the second coffee, held against his lips. His hazel eyes are red and blown open, he hasn’t had any sleep, running on nothing but an overload of caffeine.

“A few! I’m so ready for this test! Are you? I stayed up all night studying.” I flick the lid off of my coffee cup as Archer babbles on. Tuning him out as I look around the campus, it’s not normally this sombre. The crowds of exhausted students are nothing new, but there's something else. Something all my years of training isn’t allowing me to overlook. The bin is still overflowing from yesterday, the cleaners prided themselves on never having a bin that full.

“Braedon! Are you even listening to me?!” Archer’s hand rests against my shoulder, startling me.

“Does something seem off to you?” He stops bouncing for the first time since I’ve seen him, eyes doing the same loop as mine had moments earlier.

“No? You haven’t drunk your coffee.” I toss the lid towards the bin, taking a sip as I scan the campus once more.

“There’s something else...” Nothing stands out, no imprints on the dew stained grass. No overly chirpy students - except Archer, but that was normal. Everything seemed to be exactly where it should, except for the bin.

“You’re just nervous dude, come on. We don’t want to be late-” My coffee dropped from my hand, reaching for Archer as I felt my leg burning. A scream echoes around campus as I feel my body try to tear itself in two. The pain from my leg shooting up to my chest, grabbing my heart and squeezing. It hammers against my chest, happy to beat again as the pain goes after my lungs, emptying them of air and filling them with liquid. It’s like I’m drowning, but it's gone again within moments. My head falling forward as the pain returns to settle in my leg, where I know my soul mark rests. The physical manifestation of a soul and a bond I share with another.

“BRAEDON! Dude!” My back was resting against something solid, an arm around my waist and Archer’s voice in my ear. Sweat pouring from my forehead, tears from my eyes as my throat feels dry and scratchy. I hadn’t felt like this in four years, but the bare echo of that was nothing against the blinding memory of two moments earlier.

“Hey, welcome back, here.” It wasn’t Archer that spoke as something cold is pressed to my palm, my fingers wrapping around it automatically, lifting it to my lips. Only half the water made it down my throat, the other spilling over my chin and splashing against my leg.

“You collapsed Dude. I caught you, but it was like you weren’t even here.” That was Archer, his voice rumbling up my spine. His chest moving against my back with each breath, it was something to steady myself on, mimicking his breath until I felt like I could do it myself once more.

“Think you can stand Braedon?” “On your feet soldier.” A barked order through gunfire, a weapon pressed into my raw bleeding hands.

“Yes sir.” My leg gave way as I tried to stand, the pain flaring momentarily. Two pairs of hands grabbed me steadying me as I swayed from side to side. “Hold out till we get you to the medics.”

“Steady.” I looked at the familiar voice, into the concerned ageing face of my law professor. Grounding myself in the frosted white hair atop his head, the half moon glasses that perched upon the ridges of his nose. Details, he excelled at details. The south-west wind that ruffled the browning leaves of the trees, knocking them against the overflowing bin.

“You good?” The professor was one of the few who knew who I was, what I had been through.

“Fine.” I lied through gritted teeth, I needed to believe it myself, being fine was all I had right now.

“Let’s get you to medical.” The hands holding me adjusted, pulling each of mine over my two shoulders, their's going around my waist. I recognised this hold, I’d put people in it. Those that were too weak to walk on their own, those disorientated, confused, hallucinating. I’d never been unable to walk before, even in my weakest moments. This was worse than all of that.

“I need to make a call.” It was my voice this time, logic overruling. I needed to contact my supervisors, they needed to know what had happened. They had taken my soulmate. I had been compromised.

Prompt: Sexual Tension vs Murderous Rage.

So the other day I got a few of my coworkers to give me a bunch of story ideas, and I had planned to try and combine them all together into one mix-matched story. However, I left this piece of paper at home - amongst a huge pile of other similar looking pages. So that hopefully will be next week's one. Instead, I’ve bugged my friend to give me a prompt (if anyone’s strayed onto my Tumblr you’d have noticed this is a regular occurrence). I also requested her to give me two character names to go with it.

Prompt: "I saw you staring at each other, I just wasn't sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage"

Characters: Isabelle Winters and Quinton Anderson

Isabelle Winters had been having a horrible day, car troubles meant she’d been late to university, which meant she hadn’t turned in her assignment on time, and it just had to be the one professor who hated her, refusing to accept the paper on time, labeling it late and ruining her perfect average - she made a note to contest that mark later. She couldn’t have anything ruining her perfect score. It would ruin her chances at the job she’d dreamed about since she was a child.

This all, of course, meant she was in an absolutely horrid mood by the time she reached her simple barista job that afternoon. Forced to smile pleasantly as customer after customer chose her to be the victim of their unexplainable anger. Grinning and bearing every complaint and insult that flew from red-faced customers as they explained why their perfectly crafted drink was wrong. Remaking orders as veins popped out of craning necks in an effort to see exactly what she was doing.

She could tell just by the look on his face that he was going to be another difficult customer. Quinton Anderson always found something to complain about, his briefcase gripped in white-knuckled hands as he stormed up to the counter.

“The usual, and make it quick. I’m already late.” He snapped at the cashier, who wrote out the order in shaky penmanship, terrified as she took the money he thrust at her. Isabelle rolled her eyes if there was one way to ensure that the staff knew your order it was to be the biggest, flashest arsehole in the joint and Mr Anderson fit that role to a T. She deliberately took her time to do his drink. The fact that he was late was hardly her fault, and she saw no reason to go out of her way to keep him on time, perhaps if he had been any nicer. A please and a thank you every now and again.

“Are you deaf girl! I said hurry!” He snapped at her, his arm reaching over the counter to wrap around her arm and jolt her from her thoughts.

“Well it’s hardly my fault you’re late, and if you want a nice coffee you’ll wait patiently. If you want shit coffee get it from your fancy office.” She smashed the jug of steamed milk against his wrist, the heat forcing him to release her. Isabelle caring little for the boiling milk that landed on his skin - it would hurt like hell, of that she knew for certain. Milk burns were ten times worse than those provided by boiling water.

“Ow! You careless whore!” He spat at her, wiping the milk from his arm with a wince.

“Keep your hands away from where they don’t belong then.” She retorted, tipping the jug of milk out and beginning to make another. It was most certainly ruined now.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” He reached for her again, stopping just short of her arm as she lifted the jug, prepared to fight him off once more.

“Making your coffee sir.” He glared at her as she finished the process and presented him with the hot drink. Glaring back when she realised he wasn’t about to take it. Finally, he snatched it from her hand, spilling it from the top and down the sides as he started to stomp out of the cafe. Her actions ruining his day even further, but oddly enough improving hers.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A teenager standing at the edge of the counter caught her attention, pulling it from the figure that had just reached the door.

"Oh no, I just saw you two staring at each other, I just wasn't sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage..." A glance at Quinton Anderson, paused in the doorway, letting the icy cool air into the formerly warm cafe Isabelle Winters knew her answer.

“Murderous rage.”

Mugging in an airport!

So, like most other Tuesdays, it is WAYYY to early to be up and I’m not only awake but also sitting in an airport waiting for a plane to take me to Nelson for university. Two weeks behind on school work, and due an, as yet, unwritten blog post. (To be fair, I just moved house and the internet isn’t in yet... I’m not behind on purpose). So I thought, why not write a story about people in an airport?

The young woman was blissfully unaware of the attention on her as she strolls through the domestic airport towards her boarding gate. Two men whose gaze had been on her since she’d stepped out of the taxi. Music in her ears as she walked the familiar route towards her boarding lounge.

“She’s only got the one bag,” the first said, “so she can’t be travelling for long.” His hand wrapping around the coffee that sat on the table. Lifting it to his lips as her eyes strayed in their direction.

“But it’s a bulging laptop bag, She’s got everything in there.” The second man noticing the way the zips strained against the edges of the bag. Easing open with each hit into the young woman's leg.

“Point, but those jeans are old, aren’t sold in stores anymore, and you can see the tears in the bottom of the shirt where it hangs out beneath her jumper.” The first man’s eyes follow her down the corridor.

“I agree, but the upkeep on those years, they’ve lasted this long, so they must have cost a fair amount, and that jumper is new this season. Sixty dollars easy. Also look at those rings, they’re both real.“ With his coffee in his hands, the second man stands, picking up the empty briefcase he’d placed on the floor earlier.

“Sterling silver, easy. The necklace is fake, though.” The pair paused as she looked at the information board, tilting their heads towards each other. “I don’t think it’s worth it.”  

“I think it is,” the second counters, glancing over his shoulder at their potential target as she starts searching her bag for something, allowing him a glance at what's inside. The tangle of cords beneath a library book instantly changes his mind. “Nevermind, the bag is useless. Let’s cut our losses.” His friends head bows in a nod, turning away once more.

“Gentlemen.” Both men freeze at the harsh voice behind them. Turning to see their target standing right behind them. Arms folded across her chest and an eyebrow raised.

“Can we help you miss?” The first asks, slipping into the character his clothing implies.

“If you are going to attempt to steal things from people. I would suggest that you don’t turn your boss into your target.” She unfolds her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, “and for Pete's sake. Don’t make it so damn obvious.” She turns on her heel, leaving the two men floundering for words as she takes a seat in the boarding lounge to wait for her plane.