Well it was about time I finally got to this, say hello to a new OC of mine! He's a character I've always had in mind in my head, and with the help of Ari_Guardian on Twitter, he finally turned into a reality! Sort of a character to go alongside Raamaiah, Malik is yet another tribal guy, though this time not a wrestler (though I wouldn't be opposed to him having to go toe to toe in the ring sometime), I wanted to lean into the tribal aspect, as well as do a body and age type that's significantly different from Fuerte or Raamaiah, and thus Malik was born.

Either way, I hope you look forward to what I have planned for him, and you enjoy his backstory I have written below! Have a good one everyone!

Ari_Guardian's Twitter: https://twitter.com/Ari_Guardian

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EXPEDITION LOG: DAY 47

It has been over a month and a half since I last entered this jungle contained on such a secluded island, however it has seemed like an eternity. Slowly, but surely I have made my way throughout this jungle, surveying and mapping out the area, and today is the day my suspicions have finally reached its confirmation.

As discussed in previous logs, with each passing day, I have discovered more and more evidence that this jungle was not uninhabited, strange markings, signs of camps, as well as various other things, today however, I met the perpetrator of these strange occurances, but much to my surprise, it was not a savage as I expected, instead I was met with someone I never thought I had met.

He leapt through the trees as swift as the wind, all before he dropped in front of me, gripping a makeshift spear, holding it at me in fear and shock as the weapon shook.

It was an avian, around the same age as me, yet bigger than me in both size and weight, wearing tribal attire, yet this was no mere attire… it was old, yet the cloak he wore was cut from a pair of pants, and the weird loincloth he wore was almost like it was from an old shirt… and that logo in the centre of it?!

"A Broadshell?!" I yelled out, causing the strange man to drop his spear and freeze in place.

"H-How do you know that name?!" He finally spoke, his body shaking like a leaf.

The Broadshell Sailing Club. 20 years ago everyone knew who they were, yet nowadays you'd be much more likely to win the lottery than know someone who was aware of them. They used to be full of the brightest, most talented young men when it came to the art, anyone who got the privilege of calling themselves a Broadshell was set to be world class, set for life, yet that was until tragedy struck.

Malik Broadshell, the son of the owner of the club, was always considered a hotshot in the group, he believed he could sail even the most storm ridden locations out on sea, and after comments from his father, seemed fit to prove himself with a great voyage, yet on the day his trip was supposed to end, he never appeared, days, weeks, months passed as people searched for the sailor, and yet no-one could find him. Obviously, after that, things fell apart and the Broadshell sailing club was no more.

How weird it is, seeing that man once thought dead, stand behind me looking over my shoulder as I write this.

After recovering from the shock, Malik dragged me away, taking me back to his hut without me even getting a say in the matter. It was rather dishevelled, but according to the former sailor, it was a common tactic to move camps, this was one of many he had made over the 20 years, moving on after food had run dry. I have to admit, it was surprising just how much of a survivalist this man was, but considering how long he lived in the jungle, coupled with his former life as a sailor, it made sense.

We sat in front of his fire for hours, talking, sharing about the past, what the outside world was like now, and most of all, what happened to him.

He spoke of that night in detail, as if it haunted his fibre of his very being. A storm hit him and his boat hard, being just one sailor, it didn't take long for it to claim him, yet just when he thought he was dead, he awoke on this island, his ship in pieces around him, and his body worse for wear. Being a part of his sailing club, they had learned basic survival and how to be rescued, so living here wasn't a problem, yet for the young man, days turned into weeks, weeks into months… and then he gave up on being saved at all, eventually turning into the man I found today.

It makes sense though, back home I'm being regarded as one of the first people in history to properly chart this island, for Malik to be saved, it would have been beyond impossible.

He looked sad as I explained that to him, that his suspicion for most of his life was confirmed, but nevertheless he was happy to finally experience contact once in his life after so long, after all, it looked like this place had taken a toll on his mind.

He was a man of few words, speaking quickly, and gruffly, as if he was desperate for attention in a way, and his lack of interaction showed in his modesty, getting in a river nearby his camp, he explained how his outfit that lasted him his entire time here was dirty and needed washing. Unfortunately for me, that left the sailor bearing more than just his soul during our little campfire conversation.

At least from looking at his body exposed in such a way however, it seems he wasn't starving in this jungle over the years.

….


By the way Malik is glaring at me, something is telling me that I shouldn't have written that part….

But hours passed until eventually our bodies were lit up at the campfire in the dark, before the man had asked me a question that was most important to him.

"My… father?" He asked, looking to the ground.

I… couldn't say anything, just letting out a sigh, as Malik clenched his fist, the two of us knowing I didn't have to say the answer.

"He… always blamed himself." I finally got out, all before Malik continued asking away.

"And the club?"

"Gone." I replied with a shake of my head.

"So… there isn't anything for me to go back to…" he admitted, his voice filled with naught but despair.

"H-Hey don't think of it like that!" I tried to explain, shaking my hands. "I'm sure everyone would love to welcome you back, just think of the story!"

"My family, the club I was a part of, it's all gone, and I have spent what you said was 20 years in this jungle." Malik admitted, tears beginning to flood in his eyes. "I know absolutely nothing about the home you live in now. If I were to return there, I would be treated as nothing more than a carnival attraction, for people to laugh at."

Are… carnivals still even a thing nowadays? But that wasn't the point, I clenched my fist and leapt up from the spot I was sitting from to go and comfort him.

"The world isn't like that anymore Mal!" I tried to say, staying possible, hoping the nickname I gave him would help lighten the mood. "Hell, someone like you has gotten adjusted into society!"

The bird dried his eyes before looking at me. "Are you serious? This is not some kind of joke?"

"Y-Yeah!" I stuttered, trying to convince the man. "There's this guy in my city, he's called Raamaiah I think, he's a wrestler that came from a literal jungle tribe! He's learned a lot about how to live there apparently and became a bit of a local celebrity there!"

Mailk looked at me in shock, before scratching his chin. "Ramaiah huh?"

"If he learned how to live in the big city, I'm sure a guy like you too can relearn things, it's just like piloting a boat!"

"Piloting a boat huh?"

Malik laughed, it was hearty, loud, booming across the entire jungle as it echoed, the small reminder of his past making him happier than I had seen him today, before he crossed his arms and looked at me with a smile.

"Maybe it is time I returned back home." He admitted.

I rubbed his shoulder and smiled back. "My ride doesn't arrive for another week, but once we get back, I will help you in whatever way I can."

Malik softly chuckled, before resting his head on my shoulder.

So now it seems like this expedition I am bringing back more than mere trinkets, I am also returning a man who thought he would never see his home again. While I'm not sure how well Malik will adapt to this new life for him, for now, I shall support him as much as I can.

...however for now, there is still a week left on my expedition, and with most of this island sketched out, I intend to use this time to… get to know my new friend a little more…

END OF DAY'S LOG