NATE
The tragic flaw of charming men
is exactly as it seems,
too much grease,
can break down a machine.
is exactly as it seems,
too much grease,
can break down a machine.
All Nate could do in response to her teasing accusation was shrug. Phoebe had really hit the nail on the head, he was one of those people who didn’t think Longnight was that big of a deal. Honestly, he still wasn’t, though he was being convinced, slowly but surely, that it was worse than he’d initially thought.
”This isn’t that big a place, it shouldn’t be hard to figure out a quarantine plan.” Nate built on Phoebes idea, waiting until she was mostly done writing to speak. ”I wouldn’t be surprised if people have already got some kinda plan. Least the ones who’ve been here forever.” At least, it would make sense if they did. Surely they wouldn’t let some sickness spread rampant without a plan. It just didn’t make sense in what had once been a small, closed off place.
Nate nodded silently as he followed Phoebe, a sheepish expression on his face. He hadn’t been around because of lack of interest, he’d simply... gotten busy with things. As he plopped into a couch, facing the dean, he laughed softly. ”Yes, cells are pretty... basic.” He tried hard to make it sound like he wasn’t being patronizing, but well, he had some education under his belt. ”I’ve never actually taught people before, but if you, and whoever else, is prepared to deal with that, I’ll do what I can.” It couldn’t be that hard. It was just talking, and he liked to think he was good at that.
