THE BASICS
Name: Rowan "Skipper" Landvik.
Age: Thirty-Three.
Gender: cis Female, She/Her.
Orientation: Bisexual, Biromantic, definitely probably still closeted.
Occupation: Park Ranger.
Birthday: July 22nd, 1982.
Zodiac Sign: Leo.
Location: Marshall Island, South Carolina.
Birthplace: Japan.
Vehicle: 1969 Boxwood Green Ford Bronco with Whiskey Interior.
THE PHYSIQUE
Eye Color: Blue.
Natural Hair Color: Blonde.
Height: 5′ 6″.
Body Type: Athletic.
Allergies: Raspberries.
Dominant Hand: Right.
Scars: Likely tons of miscellaneous scars from her time in basic training.
Tattoos: Surprisingly none.
Piercings: Basic earlobe piercings and maybe an old belly button piercing because she was once a dumb rebellious teenager.
THE INTRODUCTION
tw: military, death.
Following her dad was something she was born to do — or so many people thought. She followed him growing up, from base to base, from home to home, and state to state. When he was deployed, somehow, Rowan still felt like she was following him, tracing the footsteps he left behind with a careful eye, determined to be someone who would live up to the expectations he left trailing behind him. She never felt like she could climb high enough for his standards, ever growing from the moment her parents brought her home to the military base in Japan. Despite the dick she grew to learn her dad was, Rowan still managed to fall right into the path he'd carved out for her. Army brat. Army grunt. Army for life. She'd signed up for the military as soon as she turned eighteen. No questions asked. It was all she knew in life and that didn't stop just because society declared her a legal adult and worthy of choosing her own path in life. Basic training came and went and with it came the nickname Skipper, something that was so wildly a thing that her dad hated that she found herself sticking to it. The more she sank into her life in the army, the more she grew to resent her dad, until inevitably she barely spoke a few words to him when she'd go home to visit for holidays. She was determined to be better than him, to do better than. Once her first four year deployment was up, Rowan found herself in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, trying her best to integrate into a society that she was never really a part of in the first place. She finally had the chance to work toward a degree, find friends, date, and be better and more successful at life than her dad ever was. But something about seeing what she'd seen, living through the moments she had in the last four years, being thrown from a lifetime of strict routine to the lackadaisical manners of a college student took it's toll on her and after two years, she dropped out of school, reenlisted, and left town without a word (or, at least, nothing more than a letter) to those she left behind. Two years into her second deployment brought about the death of her dad. While on leave for his service, Rowan found the nearest club to drink all of the trauma she refused to acknowledge away and ended up going home with a man who, she's learn, is essentially the complete opposite of her. It was a one night stand, nothing she was a stranger too, and the morning after she went about her way, trading numbers even though she had no intention of calling and returning to service once her leave was up. Then, at twenty-six years old, mid-service overseas, after what was supposed to be a clear cut one night stand she was able to bury her trauma in and leave it there, she discovered that she was pregnant. And in true like-father-like-daughter fashion, she knew the military was her priority. Deep down, she likely made the decision because she didn't want to be like her father, but regardless, when she eventually gave birth to her son, August, she handed him over to his father and returned to the only life she'd ever known a few weeks later. At first, they tried video calls, but eventually Rowan's life got too busy for them, missing them more often than not until they both realized that August was just a baby and didn't even care about them anyway. Outside of when she finally left the Army for good and her mom convinced the man who was supposed to have been a one and done for her to bring her son, then four, to tap her out, she had very little interaction with him. After almost a year of fumbling and trying to get her footing in civlian life once more, Rowan finds herself in Marshall Island, attempting to be a part of her son's life in some way and doing the absolute worst job at it.
tldr: Following her dad was something she was born to do or so many people thought. She followed him growing up, from base to base, from home to home, and state to state. When he was deployed, somehow, Rowan still felt like she was following him. She’s ex-military and ex-army brat herself, her dad was a dick but expected her to follow in his footsteps and she did. He died when she was mid-service, she got leave for his funeral, got messy because trauma, banged a dude who was polar opposite of her (probably artsy, sensitive, chill dude), got pregnant. gave him the baby and returned to her service asap. They did video calls with the baby but that faded off. He basically had full custody because her priority was the military. Though her mom did convince the dad and baby (probably a toddler by that point) to come tap her out which she probably had big emotions about. So now she’s post-military, trying to get her footing as a civilian, attempting to be a part of her son’s life in someway?? But probably doing a bad job at it. Also trying to beat generational trauma
THE HEADCANONS
Her name is Skipper bc in basic training they teased her for being Barbie's little sister and she said 'as long as I can be Skipper' and it caught on. she started to go by it and now just solely goes by it except when people ask why she always gives a different reason (among some of them; she just loves peanut butter that much, she has a habit of skipping out on one night stands, etc etc). Also, her dad hated the name and she hated him so.
She only ever wears slip on boots because lacing up boots causes her a ton of panic and anxiety and dumb memories from her time in active duty.
Most of the time she will make stupid extravagant breakfast because it's not dry oatmeal or freeze-dried eggs and it centers her back to the reality she's currently in and not the one that exists in her memories.
She always kept a small polaroid, probably the only picture, of her and her son after she gave birth to him in the pocket of her uniform while deployed. Now that she's stateside again, she keeps the photo tucked in the visor of her driver's seat.
