Natquik was Barnacles' first friend. (Barnacles was a teacher's pet lol)
He (Nat) is without question his (Barn's) biggest role model, and also very much his father/grandfather figureβI'm leaning towards grandfather because of the countless CJ parallels.
Barnacles didn't know he was autistic growing up, because polar bears give me "oooo no we don't talk about our feelings or struggles, no siree" vibes as a whole, and since he was able to mask somewhat well, he was never diagnosed. NATQUIK HOWEVER, noticed. He knew, but he never said anything. Despite that, that's one of the reasons Nat chose to be Barn's mentor. (He knew what he needed, etc.) He probably would've told him eventually, but, y'know. Antarctica.
Guess whose autistic himself! Natquik.
Natquik has his own specific ways of expressing how he feels about certain things, and about other people; he's not a "use your words" type person. When Barnacles was young he figured out pretty quickly that Natquik has an impeccable memory, and shows he cares by memorizing every detail about you. *cough* .....He's also a hugger.
Natquik was very protective of Barnacles (and probably Bianca to an extent) when he was a kid, and since he pretty much hasn't seen him at all since then, he is STILL pretty protective over him. He's just less obvious about it.
Natquik probably has a really old picture of his polar scout troop that was taken before he left. It's in mint condition.
Y'know how Bianca has silly nicknames for Barnacles ("Feather Paws")? Natquik does too. I dunno what they are, though.
π»what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?
Every once in a while I think to myself, what am I doing? Why do I spend so many hours writing fanfiction? Isn't there something better I could do with my time?
Honestly, I just like writing. I like daydreaming, and once I find a plot that hits, I like reiterating the scene over and over until I know exactly how I want it to go. I like talking to myself in silly accents as I figure out how the dialogue should go. I feel immense satisfaction in finding the right words to put it down and then changing them later to improve the clarity or the flow or make it more active. I don't think I'm alone in rereading my work and finding it pleases me--it was written exactly to my taste.
The question then becomes, why aren't I writing original fiction, instead? Not to get into a debate that I know there are very heated feelings about, but putting an original story into the world has the potential to make money, and my family and friends would understand it better and not consider it a bizarre, time-wasting hobby, and maybe one day I'd have a physical copy of something I wrote. It would be an achievement.
I don't write original stories, though. Every time I think of trying, I always feel completely stymied. There are already so many writers out there, does the world really need me? Do I actually have anything to say or plots that could hold someone's attention for however many pages?
I don't feel that way with fanfiction. We all like two cakes here (or three, or four). I think there is also something more personal with fanfic-- I've never read a novel and tried to befriend the author, but I've done that many times with fanfic, sometimes even successfully. Posting WIPs and sending snippets to friends and updating the fic as I write it makes the entire experience more communal. Writing original stuff feels lonely to me.
So that's why I write. I find the process both stimulating and satisfying and I like the community I've found with it. Maybe one day I'll find a hobby that suits me better and I'll quit. It doesn't feel likely at this moment, but who knows?
Iβm actually LOVING how Rick Riordan, and the other writers of the show, took his initial concept of a Percabeth rivalry fueled by that of their parents and kind of turned it on its head?
Now, instead of Annabeth being wary of Percy because heβs a son of Poseidon, heβs wary of her because she made a callous impression on him. They get off to a rocky start even before finding out who Percyβs father is, and when they finally do, Annabeth doesnβt care. Instead of them fighting because of who their parents are, theyβre fighting over their own opposed worldviews.
Then, instead of them arguing over which of the gods is cooler and who was right in the story of Medusa, they realize that, just like Medusa, Annabeth is a victim of her mother and that, unlike Medusa, she is a far kinder and stronger person, unwilling to repeat the cycle of hurt. They realize that, like his father, Percy often acts without considering potential consequences and that, unlike his father, he is a far kinder and stronger person, willing to step up for someone he wronged and whom he cares about.
Instead of Percy and Annabethβs rivalry being focused on that of their parents, itβs focused on who they are, themselves. But the path to friendship is still the same: a realization that they have each otherβs backs, no matter what, because theyβre not their parents after all.