engage with the pain as a motive, today of all days, see
The Kraai is empty, mostly. Somewhere, in the back of his head, Nate knows he and Sunjata aren't the only ones sheltered by the walls of the bar, but they are certainly the only ones in the back rooms. The ascended sits curled on one of the couches in the Advocates room, listening to the sounds outside the walls, imagining creeping fingers, trying to find a way into this sanctuary.
For a moment, or, perhaps longer, he sits, listens to sounds until he can't tell the difference between the ones that are real and the ones that aren't until they all blur together in his mind. Until he has to force himself to move, to wander out of the hidden door and into the bar proper, seeking out... something. He's not really sure. Something will make itself known to Nate, or it won't. Either way, it will soothe the frayed edges of his mind.
Once Nate's sure the bar is empty, he turns back, moving upstairs to seek out the things that might hide on the second floor. There's a strange sense of vertigo that grips him, at the top of the stairs, the hall stretching out before him, closed doors waiting like jagged teeth, but it fades away as he takes his first step, opens the closest door to reveal a bedroom, a man.
The face is familiar enough that Nate's first reaction isn't fear, but anger, a hand rising, reaching out, but strange enough that he stops himself, pulling back and staring, studying the things that aren't Loren. And if this face isn't Loren, it has to be "Neron?"
For a moment, or, perhaps longer, he sits, listens to sounds until he can't tell the difference between the ones that are real and the ones that aren't until they all blur together in his mind. Until he has to force himself to move, to wander out of the hidden door and into the bar proper, seeking out... something. He's not really sure. Something will make itself known to Nate, or it won't. Either way, it will soothe the frayed edges of his mind.
Once Nate's sure the bar is empty, he turns back, moving upstairs to seek out the things that might hide on the second floor. There's a strange sense of vertigo that grips him, at the top of the stairs, the hall stretching out before him, closed doors waiting like jagged teeth, but it fades away as he takes his first step, opens the closest door to reveal a bedroom, a man.
The face is familiar enough that Nate's first reaction isn't fear, but anger, a hand rising, reaching out, but strange enough that he stops himself, pulling back and staring, studying the things that aren't Loren. And if this face isn't Loren, it has to be "Neron?"
how the most dangerous thing is to love
how you will heal and you'll rise above
NATE
