and anyone who knows our name says that we ain't ever gonna change
they say we're born to die young, but we're trying to find a better way
they say we're born to die young, but we're trying to find a better way
There's something so strange about being the level headed one in a relationship. No one has told him to think something through in a long while, and honestly? That's a reminder Nate needs sometimes.
Otherwise, he does things like leave home for the first time in weeks to search for a very specific man, in the long, deep night. And really, who isn't going to tell an angry, scarred creature of the night what he wants to know? Who isn't going to point a finger towards the ship docked in the harbour?
Even the guards sober enough to be effective aren't keen eyed enough to see the shadow slip on board, a single minded focus sharpening skills already made keener by the night. Nate slips below deck, the anatomy of a ship foreign to him, but he has luck on his side, always happy to smile on him as long as he's doing darkness.
Nate has no way of knowing if the door he stops before is the right one, but he has a good feeling, good enough that he doesn't pause his step, doesn't hesitate to throw it open, and stride in like he owns the room. Fire burns in his one good eye, the other, and the gash across his face, covered by bandages and dark hood both.
"Captain." Nate says the title like he'd rather be spitting it at Jack's feet. A hand moves behind him in an easy motion, flicking the lock on the door without looking. "Got a moment for a chat?"
Otherwise, he does things like leave home for the first time in weeks to search for a very specific man, in the long, deep night. And really, who isn't going to tell an angry, scarred creature of the night what he wants to know? Who isn't going to point a finger towards the ship docked in the harbour?
Even the guards sober enough to be effective aren't keen eyed enough to see the shadow slip on board, a single minded focus sharpening skills already made keener by the night. Nate slips below deck, the anatomy of a ship foreign to him, but he has luck on his side, always happy to smile on him as long as he's doing darkness.
Nate has no way of knowing if the door he stops before is the right one, but he has a good feeling, good enough that he doesn't pause his step, doesn't hesitate to throw it open, and stride in like he owns the room. Fire burns in his one good eye, the other, and the gash across his face, covered by bandages and dark hood both.
"Captain." Nate says the title like he'd rather be spitting it at Jack's feet. A hand moves behind him in an easy motion, flicking the lock on the door without looking. "Got a moment for a chat?"
NATE
