Mackerel Nâmmanâk
Mac
Male (He/him)
39
Northerlie
Leopard seal
Fisherman
Scorched Measure of magical ability, unstable power acquired from external sources
Summary
The northern reaches of Argonautica are a rough, treacherous place to live. The sea especially is known to swallow people who make the mistake of taking it lightly. This is a reality Mackerel knows well, being a fisherman who braves the cold winds and rough waters in order to scrape together what money he can. After all, he's lived on the rough and frozen ocean waves for as long as he cares to remember. Head to shore when weather looks rough, beware the fog, and never look into the sea past dusk. It's all rather routine for him, really.
Mackerel's life was suddenly flipped on its head one foggy, moonlit night during an abnormally dark and dreary season, even for the north's standards. In a desperate attempt to break even on his last purchase of supplies, he decided to leave his trawl out past sunset in hopes of catching something to take back to the local fishmongers. In doing so, he caught not fish, but a mysterious woman gripping a rusted, barnacle encrusted sword. That sword would later find itself fused to Mackerel's now seascorched body, leading him and his new aquatic friend down an occultist rabbit hole of ancient history, the truth about this world's god—known as the Fathomless, and the source of the northern sea's loneliness, anger, and ability to consume—and melt people.
Personality
Mackerel is, for lack of better terms, a certified struggler. Depressed, at the end of his rope, and desperate for something—anything—good to happen to him. He instead got a cursed sword stuck where his arm should be. He has learned to roll with the punches, at the very least. His misery is, on some level, self-inflicted between his rampant alcoholism and refusal to change because of how easy misery is. If the sea takes him, it takes him, or at least that's his thought process. Deep down, he knows that he's a coward—too scared to ask for help. That he can't handle the judgement of crawling and begging to be fixed because his situation is entirely his own fault. And so he ignores it all and continues to drink himself to death while his debts start piling up, and in a Hail Mary attempt to not lose what little he has left he wound up in his current... situation. A blessing in disguise, perhaps, because it's through being stuck with Chowder and her situationship that Mackerel decides that maybe he should call up a therapist and start making amends. Because he does not want to be like Chowder. At least he has the same effect on her, but still. Ouch.
Likes
- Cheap beer
- The open ocean
- Saltwater taffy
- Sardine sandwiches
Dislikes
- Seagulls
- Ketchup
- Warm climates
- Accepting help
Trivia
- He is inspired by the game Dredge, alongside my love for fishing in video games and lovecraftian horror.
- Due to his scorching, the sword that Chowder was initially holding has melted and merged with Mackerel's left arm. He can essentially sheathe and unsheathe the sword at will, which has earned him nicknames such as Switchblade and Swiss Army Seal. Mostly from Locke. It's entirely just from Locke.
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6'0" (183cm)
Average
Tired
Design notes
- Missing his left arm beneath the elbow thanks the the sword business. Can "sheathe" and "unsheathe" it at will, and usually leaves it sheathed when he doesn't immediately need a sharp object.
- Has a single horn on his left, which is fairly common for his species.
- Big ol' chunky seal tail.
- Fur/pelt covers his legs, back, and upper arms.
- Pretty much always smoking. Lord help his lungs.
I'll write it... eventually!
I'll write it... eventually!
