NATE
Cheerfulness blooms into warm chuckles, a hand rising to clap Aamu’s shoulder. ”It could always be worse.” He commiserates, without actually offering any worse alternatives, his mind failing him.
Somewhere along the explanation, Nate gets a touch lost, loses track of things just a little bit. He doesn’t think it’s exactly his fault, and not exactly Aamu’s either, but there’s a lot of the middle part of this story missing. He doesn’t ask father it, and doesn’t ask after the difference between being truly dead or not. Though the idea that he could survive well over three hundred years has some part of him squirming with queasiness.
Nate is just as happy to leave the subject behind us, to grip onto this new one with greedy hands. ”I’m from a place called America. I don’t exactly miss it.” Not exactly true, but simpler to say than anything near the truth. ”There are uh... some big differences, between here and there.” Some is an understatement really, and something Nate doesn’t really elaborate on, looking around at the spot they’ve stopped with a critical eye.
”This should work.” Shrugging out of his jacket and the crossbow, Nate sets them to the side, stretching out of habit rather than need. ”Have you ever fought hand to hand before, or have you just used uh, swords?” The doctor looks rather pointedly to the sword on the others waist, interest in his gaze.
Somewhere along the explanation, Nate gets a touch lost, loses track of things just a little bit. He doesn’t think it’s exactly his fault, and not exactly Aamu’s either, but there’s a lot of the middle part of this story missing. He doesn’t ask father it, and doesn’t ask after the difference between being truly dead or not. Though the idea that he could survive well over three hundred years has some part of him squirming with queasiness.
Nate is just as happy to leave the subject behind us, to grip onto this new one with greedy hands. ”I’m from a place called America. I don’t exactly miss it.” Not exactly true, but simpler to say than anything near the truth. ”There are uh... some big differences, between here and there.” Some is an understatement really, and something Nate doesn’t really elaborate on, looking around at the spot they’ve stopped with a critical eye.
”This should work.” Shrugging out of his jacket and the crossbow, Nate sets them to the side, stretching out of habit rather than need. ”Have you ever fought hand to hand before, or have you just used uh, swords?” The doctor looks rather pointedly to the sword on the others waist, interest in his gaze.
All dressed up like a switchblade knife
Let’s hang in love from the gallows
Let’s hang in love from the gallows
