At 15 years of age and
4ft 11in tall Nenigin Oakwood features amongst the youngest and shortest interviewees
we’ve had on the island. Being
shockingly blue with small antennae and huge wings it doesn’t exactly take a
genius to figure out that Nenigin is an insectoid anthropomorph. Perhaps less
instantly obvious when meeting him is that he is of the damselfly variety. Not
only that but he is younger brother to the luridly red Naiad, though why the
two are vastly different eye-popping colours isn’t exactly clear. Sadly, as he
informs us from the outset, they are the last survivors of Oakwood lineage and whilst
they once worked together, he hasn’t seen his sister in many years.
Perhaps the most interesting
point that isn’t visually apparent is that the Oakwood’s have Welkin ancestry,
which makes Nenigin and Nai two of the rare few anthropomorphs who are also part-Fae.
Being part-Welkin undoubtedly
has its advantages, particularly for one born as an insect anthropomorph.
Needless for us to tell you that all Fae are born with a natural instinct for
levitation, and thus can ‘fly’ from an early age and never have to learn the
skill unlike the rest of us. However due to the two species opposing expected life
spans, Nenigin is a fully-fledged adult in damselfly terms but merely an infant
amongst the Fae.
So which is he? We
ask in spurious excitement and intrigue because like yourselves we find
discussing ancestry and genealogy with a fifteen year old about as fascinating
as dishwater.
His grinning inconclusive
response is, ‘well, I just have to wait and see.’ Obviously the possibility
that he might drop dead in a couple of years either hasn’t occurred to or
doesn’t bother Nenigin in the slightest, or maybe it just adds to the flavour
of thrills he seeks on a daily basis.
We’d like to say it saddens us to know
that in a few short years his face might shrivel like a dried-up blueberry but
having a perverse sense of humour we actually find it rather amusing. This
might also be because regardless of the fact he is an adult amongst the
damselfly we deem him as an irritating teenager, a boy full of naïve idealisms,
endless energy and all those grandiose half-baked ideas about life that we
swear we never possessed.
That said Nenigin is,
in fairness, a gentle soul at heart, an easy-going lad who takes things in his
stride and each day as it comes. He is thoughtful, considerate and has quite a measured
personality for one so young. He is also the highly active type and tells us he
likes extreme sports, magic and challenges but dislikes puzzles, ‘hatred’ and is
strongly against war.
Being part-Fae means
he found it relatively easy to learn magic and has progressed quickly in his
chosen discipline. An intrepid thrill-seeker Nenigin tells us he chose to specialise
in elemental magic with his focus being on fire in order to accumulate an array
of impressive tricks such as fire breathing and juggling. Although we assume he doesn’t literally mean ‘being
on fire’ because to our knowledge insects aren’t particularly resilient to flames
let alone flamethrowers.
Less of a surprise
then that to learn that the Oakwood family have long been circus performers touring
the globe with a troupe of amazing oddities called ‘Rynjik.’ This name
translates quite literally as ‘mind force,’ which we hasten to add sounds mightily
less impressive in translation but still succeeds in having a half-hearted jab
at making a pun out of the word ‘force.’ The Rynjik troupe specialises in
performers who possess unusual talents for their species, a weird and wonderful
collective of potentially powerful individuals ready to ‘contort, contrive,
disturb and surprise,’ all whilst dangling over pointy objects from perilous
heights or submerged in the ‘agrusanc,’ which considering it means, ‘terror
water,’ doesn’t actually sound or look all that terrifying. Prepare to be, ‘disturbed
and amazed,’ the flyer tells us, however the only thing we find truly amazing
is that the troupe has been at large for over a century.
Nenigin joyfully expresses
how all of Rynjik’s employees are considered family even those who are not
directly related and sings praise on how most of them have travelled together
their entire lives. He tells us he was lucky enough to have been born into the
troupe and that their way of life is simply ‘vaitsche.’
Which brings us
nicely to our main point of contention because the most grating thing about Nenigin
it that he seems to know only four adjectives; one is the Ordic word ‘trepid,’ whilst
the other three stem from the Aftlands second major language of Mythic and Neni
uses precisely none of them in the correct context.
Now we here at Black
Wednesday’s aren’t renowned for being too strict when it comes to correct word
usage but the Aftlands only have two spoken languages for good reason and
bastardising the lesser-known of the two is even less endearing than corrupting
the first.
Call it teenage
colloquialism if you will but it becomes increasingly infuriating to hear him
describe literally everything be it good or bad, as ‘trepid,’ (fearful) ‘vaitsche,’
(harsh), ‘vasche,’ (nasty) and ‘mhiern,’ (set). He explains that he means ‘nasty’
in a good way, like calling a challenge ‘brutal’ or ‘excellent’ and that he
thinks, ‘harsh’ is a good substitute for ‘awesome.’ The word ‘set’ he simply
litters in between everything else apparently to emphasise how ‘great’ or ‘cool,’
things are, or whenever he is lacking a descriptor. He also seems to use ‘trepid’
in place of the word ‘difficult’ which sounds to us like a deliberate waste of
his brainpower and a good way to confuse people.
Or maybe we here at
the studio are just old and aren’t ‘mhiern’ enough, or maybe calling us too ‘mhiern’
would be more appropriate, as in, ‘set in our ways.’ Nenigin doesn’t find our
turnaround or teasing of his slang amusing. He defends the misappropriation as
something everyone in the troupe does because they all, ‘have quirks,’ and they
are, yeah you guessed it, ‘really mhiern, you know?’ No Neni we don’t know, but
we guess by that he means that they are good, solid and reliable people.
Still if there’s one
thing Nenigin feverishly describes as ‘vasche’ it’s putting on a show with Rynjik.
He tells us he is happiest when pulling off a new stunt or particularly
difficult trick for the audience, or in his words, ‘it’s vasche when I pull off
a new one, I mean really vaitsche like and we’re all down there and it just
happens, really trepid, like mhiern, really vasche to be in that moment you know?’
No, we don’t, stop
asking. And for the love of Luk learn to speak.
Thankfully Nenigin’s
role in the circus is a silent one because rest assured, if any of us even so
much as hear the words ‘vaitsche,’ ‘vash,’ or ‘mhiern,’ misused near us in the
next week, we shall set about doing something harsh and nasty to whoever dares
utter them.