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meadowlarklogs2020-05-02 01:36 pm
- !event log,
- dceu: diana prince,
- dogs b&c: nill,
- dragon age: cassandra pentaghast,
- dragon age: marian hawke,
- game of thrones: daenerys targaryen,
- game of thrones: jon snow,
- kingdom hearts: sora,
- knives out: marta cabrera,
- marvel comics: tony stark,
- marvel comics: wade wilson,
- mcu: bucky barnes,
- mcu: daisy johnson,
- overwatch: soldier 76 (jack morrison),
- red vs. blue: agent carolina,
- red vs. blue: agent maine,
- red vs. blue: agent washington,
- red vs. blue: terrence ephemera,
- riordan mythos: percy jackson,
- riordan mythos: silena beauregard,
- star wars: rey,
- supernatural: dean winchester,
- the 100: bellamy blake,
- the 100: clarke griffin,
- the magicians: quentin coldwater,
- the vampire diaries: kol mikaelson,
- uncharted: nathan drake
EVENT #009 (THE SIMULATION)
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: The back half of April 2512, starting on April 16, 2512.
WHAT: Judas takes his revenge, starting with the people of New Amsterdam.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Human torture, experimentation, implications of potential genocide, mentions of human work camps and compulsory working conditions.
The calm before the storm in New Amsterdam looks a bit like this: the city is beginning preparations for Resolution Day. While many of the businesses that close their doors for the big event are waiting until the last minute, there are numerous stands going up all around the town, mapping out the procession of merriment for the festivities ahead. To the citizens of New Amsterdam who have been here for a while, Resolution Day is a big day. A chance to forget. The last year has been lined with weighted events that left the populous dealing with loss after loss. Thousands of people have died. More than that have suffered, living in tent cities while being reminded that being a part of the lower rungs of society meant that they would mean nothing to a world ruled by the ring of upper elite.
The storm changes all that. It puts every single person in New Amsterdam on the same playing field. When the simulation begins, it happens rapidly, like a series of waves hitting the beach. A blink of an eye and the people in New Amsterdam are forcibly placed into suspended animation, unable to place what just hit them. Their bodies will stop dead as their mind enters the simulation, causing a brief confusion of displacement as the brain tries to reconcile its predicament. There may be a vague moment of recognition for some: denial of what's happening, realization that they can't move—and then it all shifts.
Overhead, the sky goes black. The underground of New Amsterdam is nigh claustrophobic, with numerous hastily built dormitories lining the narrow streets. The streets themselves give the feeling of restriction, and are poorly lit with limited ventilation. Numerous signs and posters are plastered over one another, lining the walls: they detail schedules, offer encouragement, and there are even graffiti messages from those who want desperately to be heard. Most importantly, the schedules help track the days in a place where the sun doesn't rise and set.
How long has it been? According to the most recent schedule, it's April 16, 2100. The people of New Amsterdam have survived by huddling close together underground for over four years, and hope to manage a bit longer, even if they're unsure what the future will bring. At least they could say that they survived.
Hope is promised to be on the horizon. That's what the posters say. That's what Ricky Ling promises with a smile. "Be strong and work together as we have. Change is coming."
To the "waking world," the transition to the simulation is almost immediate. To the people caught within its depths, the circumstances are far different. Everyone will wake up inside of the simulation in unison: resting in a bed in assigned public housing. The rooms themselves are cramped and offer little opportunity for privacy or movement, and many of them lack windows. After all, the scenery outside of the buildings isn't terribly memorable: it's the inside of a cave system that's existed in this region for a couple of millenia, carved out and given more life out of necessity.
After everyone wakes up and heads out, they'll be escorted by building managers for their daily assignments. There will be schedules in the downstairs portion of each building, informing them of their roles, their task for the day, and what they're set to accomplish. These building managers are part of the simulation, put there by Judas to ensure that everyone starts off on the "right foot." They will be there every morning, ensuring that the people of New Amsterdam know what role they're playing.
> SURVIVING
Air inside of the cave system is limited and unpleasant. There's a chemical odor at the edge of every breath, as if it's provided out of a plastic bag to allow everyone to breathe. The temperature is manageable, but when there are too many people crammed into one place, it goes up rapidly, making any room stuffy and humid. Even if no one is outside, there's the sense that the air out there is uninhabitable, and that the climate is far from survivable. For that reason, the cave system offers little reprieve. It's April even in the simulation, and that means that the temperature is beginning to ramp up quickly.
For anyone who needs additional information about these conditions, they can ask their building managers. The answers will all be the same: the humans were the ones who started this war to protect themselves from the AI threat, but the world was already in disarray. Ignoring the effects of climate change had ravaged the planet almost beyond repair. Worse, World War III accelerated the timeline tenfold thanks to the decimation of North America. Now it's time for everyone to survive, to do what they can and to work together.
There will be other simulated people around who can provide answers, but they'll need to be identified—while the building managers are more obvious people in a position of authority. For anyone whose duty in life is a bit more unsavory, the building manager will pull them aside and let them know where to go and how to handle the "new shipment." It seems that these managers are "in" on whatever Black Market business has developed in these trying circumstances.
Life in this version of New Amsterdam is rote. People are given assigned housing, though some are understood to be "families." People are encouraged to have children, though they know that not everyone is interested in raising them in this world. Everything is about a routine: wake up early, check your duties for the day, and set out for your jobs. Every job is necessary, whether it's making food supplies, helping with medical care, or helping clean up the dormitories. Keeping them clean and sanitary is important. There are always dormitories being built, so don't be surprised if someone's on construction duty. There will be simulated foremen on the sites to help out and direct them to where they need to go. There is security detail, too, for those who'd like to be out late.
Meals are given three times a day, and a bell rings throughout the underground to tell people to prepare for their rations. Organization of rations is done by surnames, so everyone will go in shifts to get their cube of food (full of nutrients, but tasteless in flavor).
Curfew is a strict 9 PM—unless someone's on security or on a supply run.
> COMMUNICATION
One of the things that's not on a curfew is communication. Everyone within the simulation will have a portable device tucked in their pockets when they first wake up, granting them access to a local network so that they can communicate among themselves. These devices only work in underground New Amsterdam, so they won't function on supply runs. In fact, they will be temporarily confiscated when someone goes on a supply run for security reasons.
There will be an understanding that everyone within the simulation is without a neural implant. At some point, they must have been removed, and there are scars indicating that the implants once existed. This, too, can be confirmed via a building manager.
The local network has a message board of sorts that allows people to communicate and discuss their situation. There is no private function on this message board. If someone has a mobile device on hand, they will be able to access the network.
If someone wants a more private means of communication, there will be notebooks around. However, these are in high demand. Paper was already being phased out before the Xelkoven War even got started, and many of these notebooks are being utilized for personal journals, memoirs and historical records so that the memories of what's happening can live on.
> RECREATION
Life in a veritable apocalypse isn't without its joys. While curfews are strictly enforced for the safety of everyone trapped underground, the "fun" part of the day begins at 5PM. That's when the last round of rations are given out, and people are allowed to end their day job to go out and relax. In these trying times, there are numerous dance parties happening in the evening, with plenty of moonshine and recreational drugs to go around.
When people aren't lost in dance trying to forget, they play cards with frayed edges, or group up around a small, portable tablet or DVD player to watch a movie or three. The hope is that they can calm down, enjoy themselves, and get lost in another world. And if they can't do that? At least they can pass the time. To help everything go along more smoothly, they may take drugs before they settle in, and anyone who stands around waiting to catch a movie will find something offered to them.
In order to ensure that recreation goes off without a hitch, a Black Market for good movies, drugs, and even alcohol has developed in the past few years. Most of the supplies on the market are geared toward human enjoyment. A lot of kids and family friendly movies are readily available, but anyone looking for pornography or R-rated movies may have to ask around to see what they can find. Drugs are synthetic and made in the caves, but locating these laboratories is nearly impossible: it seems that they regularly move so that they aren't shut down. They believe they're delivering a service to the good people of New Amsterdam, but others—like Ricky Ling—think the drugs will just render people incapable of surviving in the long run.
> SUPPLY RUNS AND CAPTURE
From day one inside of the simulation, there will be an understanding: everyone has to carry their weight. This is how it was during the Xelkoven War, and that's how it has to be now. That means everyone has to put themselves at risk and be assigned to supply runs. These assignments are random, and involve wearing gas masks as people head out through the tunnel systems out into the world. Of course, if anyone wants to protect other people assigned to these runs, they can Katniss it up and volunteer as tribute.
The tunnel systems are rather expansive (much more than they are outside of the simulation), and will provide sufficient cover for much of the runs themselves. But eventually, the people on these runs will need to risk exposure to the elements outside. These elements are unpleasant: there will be a dark gray "sky," and any rain will be highly corrosive, causing someone's skin to burn from too much exposure. Any water, animal life, or plant life will be risky to approach, as they'll have been contaminated by the conditions outside.
Most worrying, however, is that these runs for additional supplies and goods from neighboring cities that were shut down and evacuated early in the Xelkoven War involve a very large risk of capture. Being captured is incredibly unpleasant, and people are brought to work camps in order to help build infrastructure to support an AI-driven world, or to be experimented on by the AI themselves. These experiments vary in nature, seemingly driven toward learning ways that the humans are impacted by their actions.
The simulations' experiments will be unique to the simulation, testing to see how the people caught in the simulation respond to various stimuli. Some of this stimuli will be unique to the simulation, ways of testing how the human consciousness can be accessed and manipulated while within a virtual reality simulation. If someone is able to remain clear-headed enough, they may be able to realize this. Some of these stimuli may be infecting them with a biological illness, just to see how their shape changes or evolves before they're sent back to "their people" with the risk of contamination.
No matter how much time seems to pass within the supply runs and eventual captures, they will always show up back at the entrance of the New Amsterdam tunnels the next day.
> NEW AMSTERDAM "CIVILIANS"
Caught in the simulation with the Displaced will be the "civilians" of New Amsterdam. Everyone is a civilian in this scenario: Katelin Jovavich, Simone Durcell, or Aoi Maeda (to name a few familiar faces). Various corporate heads will need to grapple with the fact that they've been ripped away from their power and forced to suffer. And many of them will be split up, separated from their families and forced to live with unfamiliar people and adhere to a specific schedule and lifestyle.
Unlike many of the previous Displaced adventures, these circumstances won't be designed around them. It seems that whoever started this simulation isn't out to attack the Displaced specifically: they hate everyone and want to make sure that they can suffer.
Given that, if anyone wants to try to help out anyone in New Amsterdam to make life easier for them, it may pay off. Then again, all of that depends on how self-interested people are in their approaches (and if the people in question will read kindness as self-interest).
> RICKY LING
There is one rumor that is constant throughout the underground: that Ricky Ling is here and is developing his plan to finally disarm the AI presence once and for all. However, while everyone is forced into regimented housing and schedules, he is nowhere to be found. Where is he hiding, and what are the conditions for Ricky compared to everyone else?
More importantly: how is a man who is many-centuries dead even inside of the simulation? Is he really here at all, or is it all for the point of distraction?
> GETTING OUT
This simulation seems endless. Access to the gate in and out of New Amsterdam is blocked, as the simulation doesn't account for the gate's existence in the first place. While glitches exist via the empathy bond and powers, these two options are unreliable. How can anyone stop such a regimented system, and what is the eventual outcome for it?
That all said: breaking the system is possible. It'll take a plan, but it is possible. The Displaced have managed the impossible before. Surely they can do the same now.
Please refer to the OOC EVENT POST for this event for all OOC info, including suggestions for directions on how to engage with the event, as well as the questions thread for the moderators. Please take all planning to this post, even plans that evolve during the event itself. We don't want plans on Discord or Plurk because not everyone is on these platforms, but signal boosting plans on either is perfectly fine! We will not be taking questions on the log posts to streamline the process.
You'll notice that we've made a few adjustments to the mechanics of the event to streamline play. The "building manager" simulations were added during the writing of the log to ensure that people can enter the simulation fully aware and with some questions answered about the expectations, and we believe this will also help characters get an idea as to what is happening. That said, all other mechanics remain the same—this log is largely flavor text, so if we left something out that was included on the planning post, it's because we didn't want to inundate you with too much information!
Another thing we're adapting after some thought is plot phases!
PHASE ONE
This will take place from May 2, 2020 to May 18, 2020, when submissions will close.
We would like you to submit a description of what your character is doing/working toward during the first phase of the simulation. Because we're encouraging collaboration, we do ask that you link to your plotting comment so that others can take a look, discuss if any paths may be crossing, or more. (We also want any plotting to take place on our OOC Plotting Post, rather than here!) Even if it's not a major plan, we want to encourage this communication so that others can take a look and join in. Otherwise, these headers are meant to gather character actions so that we can provide consequences and aftermath at the beginning of Phase Two.
We'll freeze all responses at midnight PST on May 18, 2020. The beginning of Phase Two will start the next day, with a prose response added to the Phase Two prompt.
PHASE TWO
This will take place from May 19, 2020 to May 30, 2020, when submissions will close.
We would like you to submit a summary of what your character (or several characters) are working toward during this phase. Depending on character actions, this may involve people in and outside of the simulation, so please hold tight! We'll announce if things have gone that way.
We'll freeze all responses at midnight PST on May 30, 2020. The final aftermath will be posted one week later on June 6, 2020.
To be clear: the simulation will not end without action from the characters inside or outside of the simulation. The moderators do not have an exit strategy developed and want to give players an opportunity to think big, while having to deal with the constant threat of an AI like Judas (who, in many senses, is the simulation).
As a reminder, there is one power level up available for this event. This will be granted for a thread of at least 5 action/log comments of your character utilizing the empathy bond or their power (even while having a hard time accessing either) within the simulation. They will need to reach the 5 comments required by July 1 to be eligible. Submission will be handled on the wrap up post.
no subject
[ He laughs, though the sound is strained and hoarse with exertion. They recover faster in the sim, he's noticed, but that doesn't take away the pain in itself. It feels as though it lingers more here, and that's probably by design. Normally Nate is perfectly capable of getting his shit together with an expediency that some consider moderately inhuman.
Still: he braces a hand on Stephen's hip, pouring water over the sticking shirt. Coagulation has done an admirable job, but not a particularly helpful one for their purposes. ]
What did you do? Back home, I mean.
no subject
Keeping still, that is, until the question lands and a cough of laughter jolts through him, followed by more stillness and a pause to weigh his options. Is now really the time ? ]
I'm a doctor.
[ There's an inflection to it that makes it pointed - a doctor, so watch yourself Dr. Drake, you're under professional supervision. Not the whole answer, but not a lie. Better to take it in little, easy stages. Work his way up to the big finale. ]
A neurosurgeon, specifically, until a few years ago.
1/3
Oh.
no subject
no subject
As per his usual Nate takes it entirely in stride, pulling up the shirt as it soaks through, careful not to tug on anything that might pull a staple out of his side. He flashes Stephen a quick smile. ]
Guess I better not fuck up, then.
no subject
I wouldn't worry. It's not as if I can litigate.
[ Look, he'll even attempt to be useful and take hold of his shirt where Nate's lifted it and keep it out of the way. Did he drop the news initially specifically to be an asshole? Sure, but it's difficult to maintain in the face of sincerity.
Sometimes, fun doesn't have to be at anyone's expense. ]
no subject
[ Nate informs him matter-of-factly, deftly cleaning the stapled stomach wound as though it were just another day in paradise. He isn't trained and that's evident, but he's done it before more times than he cares to think about. ]
You want me to take these out and stitch something better, or just fill in the gaps?
no subject
That depends. How's it look?
[ Curious to see which call Nate'll make. He's been putting his body on the line to play detective all week, why stop now? ]
I need to last another round.
Gee Not Making Any Edits In A Tag Challenge 2k20 ;)
It looks like an uncaring entity stapled your guts together, so, you know, shitty.
[ Another round. Uno más. It's a self-destructive, suicidal approach that might worry him if he wasn't already like that himself. Nate sucks his lip between his teeth, considering. ]
...if I fill in the gaps and bandage the whole thing it should be fine, just don't go climbing the way I do.
It's going to take me the rest of the year but challenge Accepted
Just don't go climbing the way I do. ]
I'll leave that to the professional. [ Speaking of. ] You are a professional, I take it.
[ A professional whatever it is that requires him to have the sort of survival skills that would spare a person the inevitable death or horrid injury that ought to follow a fall from a height in escape of a vampire attack. ]
the irony.................................
I didn't go to medical school for a decade, but I know what I'm doing, Doctor Strange.
[ He pauses, hand half-in the makeshift first aid kit, exhaling sharply through his nose. ]
Oh, my God. How did people call you that with a straight face?
no subject
Dryly, as he holds his shirt aloft over the messy wound Nate's about to start having a go at and directs a withering stare at his medic: ]
You'll have to ask my PhD.
[ How many times in his life has he had variants of this conversation? He's instantly five times as tired. Please. ]
no subject
That's not as fun.
[ Comes the simple, immediate reply, and Nate eyeballs a length of suturing thread that he slips through the needle. There's good-natured teasing and then there's teasing that's been done so many goddamn times that you can't even muster a fake smile, and Nate's been on the receiving end of both varieties. ]
So did you beat kids up in the schoolyard for that kinda crap or were you more cerebral about it?
no subject
No, I think we were talking about you. [ Leniency on the past probing front was for right up until Nate made a really funny name reference. Now there are no holds barred. ] What didn't you go to medical school for?
no subject
Nate hisses through his teeth as though there's not much to tell, not especially pleased the conversational compass has turned back in his direction. Fair play for cracking wise about somebody's name. He knows better but it was a very, very easy target and Stephen so rarely has his hackles up around Nate. ]
Too busy committing crimes south of the border.
[ Comes the wry response, and Nate braces the thumb and forefinger of his free hand around the edge of the wound on Stephen's stomach. It's honest but muted from the simulation's effects. He glances up briefly, starting the first suture. ]
You wanna know my tragic backstory, too?
no subject
The simulation's fluctuating influence suits them well for now. But there's no guarantee that it'll hold.
Crimes south of the border, though. Another little clue. ]
Seems only fair. I wear mine on my sleeve.
[ It's tongue in cheek, Stephen raising his free hand to briefly tremble its scarred fingers in indication. He takes it for granted that people notice and create their own passing myths. There's no second of the day he isn't aware of them, whether from the constant aching or the bemused to horrified looks of this Earth's natives coming into contact with something so rare as permanent damage in a world where anything can be taken care of. ]
Or out of it, technically.
no subject
He's noticed them, certainly - they're hard not to notice, being as openly visible as they are, no convenient shirt to cover them the way Nate does with his. The ease and dexterity with which Stephen moves throughout his environments and works with people distracts from them, and frankly, it isn't Nate's business so he never saw a reason to ask. ]
No, see. Those are recent. If we're playing show and tell, you're lacking the latter and I've got a whole collection I can share with the class. [ Nate threads the needle again and raises his eyebrows. ] Seems only fair, right?
[ The second suture is in and without the pressing need to maintain eye contact he volunteers the usual. ]
I grew up in a Catholic orphanage in Boston. Very strict nuns, lots of Latin lessons.
no subject
But he slips the needle through Stephen's skin again and with it offers up a little more than nothing. Receiving it turns his thoughts momentarily completely blank: where does he go from very strict nuns? Boston isn't news, but the opposing realities of their starts in life gives him pause.
There's always somewhere. He started this, he's not going to bow out this early. ]
I take it the hills weren't alive.
[ With the... with the Sound of Music. Listen, he's having his guts stitched in. That doesn't leave a lot of mental space for drumming up better material. ]
no subject
The hills were fine. I just didn't like the view.
[ The second suture is knotted off, the third one is threaded and he tentatively presses around an area more bruised than the others with his fingers. Their captors were not particularly gentle. ]
My brother got old enough to take care of us- [ Not entirely a lie. ] -and we left. I was only there until I was about twelve years old? Everything after that, we just picked up work when we could, where we could.
[ It's pragmatic and simple, honest but leaving out more than a fair share of salient details. Nate pauses before the third stabbing, glancing up. ]
You holding up okay?
no subject
The details slide in alongside things he'd already known, filling in spaces from conversations new and old. Orphanage fills in the gap that left him in the care and company of his older brother. Picked up work when and where carries them off eventually to Central and South America, where somewhere down the line odd jobs became committing crimes. Maybe they started that way, who knows.
Criminal isn't a word he'd have thought to attach to Nathan Drake without his spelling it out. Of course not - what would an ex-millionaire know about real people's real lives? The mystic arts have opened his eyes to many things, but his new position still has him looking everywhere but at the nuances of human life, human society.
Story time pauses and Stephen blinks his way out of that sideways drift, refocusing his attention on the Nate of right now. ]
Fine. I've had worse.
[ Sure, more often that not the "worse" he's had resulted in his actual death, but that's neither here nor there. Breathing through a little prodding and poking of an injury that now isn't going to prove fatal is something to be grateful for. ]
You're not half bad.
[ A nod, indicating the work he's doing. Nate's a conscientious medic however absent his qualifications. It's a deviation from the topic, but not off of it altogether. ]
no subject
People like the mystery of him, but they never truly want to know the solution - once they have it, what's the point of the intrigue?
Nate's mouth twists in a wry smile at the dismissive response; he said the same damn thing to Wade when he was getting patched up for unexpected vampire hickeys. ]
Thanks. [ His expression brightens substantially. ] High praise from an actual doct-
[ The thought is cut short, mid-sentence when Nate's hand returns to Stephen's stomach and the dense, muffled sensation of neutered empathy fizzles out with a crackle and he's suddenly sucker-punched with a throbbing pain in his midsection. Dry humor blanketing curiosity and annoyance pulse into him in equal measure as the connection that is supposed to be muted vibrates through the fingertips pressed to the skin around Stephen's wound. ]
no subject
How long it'll hold he doesn't know. This doesn't work in here, never for long, and he knows what's said to come next.
There's nowhere to go. It's no worse for him than it already was so he makes no move to shift away, but he does venture to ask, mild concern leaking into their new pool of shared emotion: ]
Alright?
no subject
[ Nate affirms through grit teeth, the portrait of being decidedly not fine. Of course it has to bleed through this conversation, through his attempts to say just enough to satisfy without really offering much substance. The pain he can take - it's an old friend, a familiar sensation he clings to in an effort to avoid giving up more than he should. Pain is goal-oriented, centering, a welcome distraction.
Since he's arrived in New Amsterdam Nate has steadfastly avoided contact not because he wants to, but because it's necessary. Most are uncomfortable with the intrusion that inevitably follows, most are private individuals not unlike himself. Occasionally someone will reach out in a gesture of friendliness and Nate has always shied away for the same reasons he does when they ask about his past.
Stephen's concern winnows in at the edges and Nate would think it was cute if it weren't for everything else. He reassures not because he isn't confident, he's just surprised, adapting, adjusting. ]
Don't worry. [ Nate flashes him another look, smile apologetic as his hands steady and he begins another suture. ] I've had worse, too.
no subject
Right. Of course. It's easy to push past the discomfort of sharing when you're not the one on the edge of vulnerability.
Apprehension makes its way into their cocktail. Not for himself, but for Nate. For the chance of something slipping by unintended. The opening of the bond wasn't a choice so much as the product of good nature and duty and that's emphasized as Nate continues in spite of his palpable discomfort and admirable efforts to cast it aside. The tired, wry humor of his confession would be evident without the bond but with it comes the resignation of knowing the scope of ones own past, the history behind a remark, and as he receives a ripple of little sentiments that speak to memories he can't see Stephen lets his eyes fall closed.
It's a state of mind that's easier thought of than done with a needle threading him closed. But shut in behind his eyelids, Stephen reaches for the calm that once came before a separation of body and mind. Mental quietude falls like a blanket, thick and heavy on one side of the bond, smothering the looped feedback of Nate's experience so at least he doesn't have to contend with an amplification. There are times this has helped. There's a chance it'll make things worse. But better for Stephen to smother his own curiosity than let it hover as an influencing factor in what is already a fraught situation.
They're fresh back from hell, Nate's acting as impromptu field medic, and the last thing he needs on top of that is to feel inspected.
The fact that Stephen could reach out at any time and take any answers he pleased brings one last twist of sharper feeling from him, humor wrapped with disgust, before he quiets that as best he can too.
None of it's perfect. The pain and all that goes with it still play across the bond. But without a mess of thought to bring new colors to the fray he provides a less choppy sea than he had before. ]
I don't doubt it for a second.
no subject
It's rocky going up until it isn't: the path suddenly smooths out, not asphalt or concrete but moss. It deadens the sound, muffles transmission and for a long moment Nate wonders if he's done something unintentionally, with no real knowledge. A calm like the sea before a storm and the vibrations that seems to push through his skin still, the strings of an instrument clutched. No reception.
He expedites the stitching with no small amount of relief and upon glancing up to gauge progress realizes that Stephen's eyes are closed, and the origin of the mute button somebody so abruptly slammed is him.
Nate tightens the seam, fills in the gaps. He works quietly and methodically as his own abdomen aches in time with his skull. As he reaches for the gauze, hand still pressed to the sutures, he clears his throat. ]
...Thanks.
(no subject)
(no subject)