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WHAT: Log/actionspam for Nathan's rescue.
WHO: Nathan, Investigation Team, and any idiots who like Nathan enough to tag along. Participation not required, but jump in if you'd like!
WHEN/WHERE: The Dark Hour, Wednesday night. The dungeon is an eerie version of the community centre Nathan lived in. (For reference.)
Quiet as a fucking tomb is right. The community centre's huge, with impossibly high ceilings and dark corners. The only sounds come from shadows and the rescue team's own voices. The fluorescent lights can't seem to decide if they want to stay on or off, and entire rooms are pitch black. The whole place has a vaguely haunted air about it.
In the end, they aren't hard to find. The noise can be heard from a few floors away — a cacophony of Irish nonsense echoes that don't help the creepy atmosphere at all. In the final room, the two Nathan's are squared off against one another, though they both snap to attention when the team enters.
"Would you look at that," the shadow says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his orange jumpsuit. "I hope you lot aren't going to come tell me how wrong I was about the whole being alone bit. Just because you're here now doesn't mean you'll always be."
The real Nathan is slumped against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest, looking in a particularly bad state. For as beat down and exhausted as he is, he hasn't stopped arguing with himself since he got here. He gestures to the shadow and says in a weak, cracking voice, "Look, aside from being devilishly handsome, he's nothing like me. Get him to shut the fuck up."
When presented with two equally stupid halves of the immortal whole, what's a ragtag team of friends to do?
WHO: Nathan, Investigation Team, and any idiots who like Nathan enough to tag along. Participation not required, but jump in if you'd like!
WHEN/WHERE: The Dark Hour, Wednesday night. The dungeon is an eerie version of the community centre Nathan lived in. (For reference.)
Quiet as a fucking tomb is right. The community centre's huge, with impossibly high ceilings and dark corners. The only sounds come from shadows and the rescue team's own voices. The fluorescent lights can't seem to decide if they want to stay on or off, and entire rooms are pitch black. The whole place has a vaguely haunted air about it.
In the end, they aren't hard to find. The noise can be heard from a few floors away — a cacophony of Irish nonsense echoes that don't help the creepy atmosphere at all. In the final room, the two Nathan's are squared off against one another, though they both snap to attention when the team enters.
"Would you look at that," the shadow says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his orange jumpsuit. "I hope you lot aren't going to come tell me how wrong I was about the whole being alone bit. Just because you're here now doesn't mean you'll always be."
The real Nathan is slumped against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest, looking in a particularly bad state. For as beat down and exhausted as he is, he hasn't stopped arguing with himself since he got here. He gestures to the shadow and says in a weak, cracking voice, "Look, aside from being devilishly handsome, he's nothing like me. Get him to shut the fuck up."
When presented with two equally stupid halves of the immortal whole, what's a ragtag team of friends to do?
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