text; + action options; (cw character death)

[sketchycharacter]

[locked to people who know Elena Fisher]

elena's dead

[....yeah that's all. Odds are good that Nate will not want to reply to questions, condolences or comments regarding the recent tragedy, though Chloe Frazer might. However, he can be found...]

wandering; Once the shock has passed—if it ever does—Nate wanders for hours. Fuck, maybe days, he doesn't know. He just doesn't want to go back to the house in Region 1 where she isn't.

Eventually he finds himself in a well-wooded park. For lack of anything else to do, he climbs a tree.

at home; When he finally does make it back, Nate parks his ass on the couch, where he'll be sleeping until—well, he can't count on there being an "until." Maybe he'll just live on the couch forever. Sorry, Pepper, Varric, etc.

at the ingress complex; Nate comes by the facility a couple of times, to ask for news or if they can guarantee that they'll be able to bring her back, because he knows that people have returned, and he knows that they don't always.

He walks away both times, unable to stand it if the answer is no.]

Comments

[a_shadow]

[ She crosses her arms in her lap, sitting back in her chair. ]

No, I don't imagine it does.

[ She watches him, for just a moment. ]

Why don't you tell me about it?

[sketchycharacter]

How about I don't?

[She doesn't deserve the ire. Nate knows this. Tex is his friend, and she's trying to look out for him. But now is not time for logic and measured thinking.]

Going over the details of how my wife was killed on that goddamn planet they opened up isn't going to give me more of an appetite.

[a_shadow]

Okay. Don't then.

[ It's too soon for him to feel any closure from talking about it. She knows this, but she's trying to make him feel something, even if it's a brief flare of something bad, just something to snap him out of his numbness. At least that seems to have worked, for what it's worth.

The waiter returns shortly with their teacups and glasses of water, and she drops her teabag in her teacup once he's left again. ]

I wonder sometimes what the Ingress techs even think they're doing down there.

[sketchycharacter]

[Nate just barely manages to shut his mouth before letting loose, pushing for a real fight. It wouldn't be fair when this isn't Tex's fault.

(Fairness isn't actually on his mind, but he also has enough awareness to know that it wouldn't make him feel better.)]

Jack and shit, seems like. Continues the old Moira tradition of the higher-ups not being able to find their ass with both hands.

[a_shadow]

[ She lets out a little snort, dunking her teabag up and down. ]

There are better traditions, that's for sure.

[ She has been avoiding looking at him too much, not wanting him to feel he's under pressure of any sort, but she does focus in on him now. Just to check in and see whether he is going to fix his tea or take a drink of water. ]

[sketchycharacter]

[Nate goes for the water. It's simpler than tea; he doesn't have have to worry about sugar or milk or whatever goes in tea. All of the hydration, none of the hassle.]

Could hardly do worse.

[a_shadow]

No, I don't think we could.

[ The server returns then with their pastries; Tex nudges her plate a little closer to herself, but doesn't dig in. ]

Maybe something could be done about it. I don't know.

[sketchycharacter]

[He picks at his but doesn't put anything in his mouth. Acknowledging that the food exists is a kind of progress.]

Probably not. There's fuck-ups everywhere, at every level.

[He's barely thinking of the captains now. Or whoever runs this fucking planet.]

[a_shadow]

That's true, I know, but maybe if someone campaigned for something to change...

[ She sighs. ]

I don't know. Wishful thinking.

[sketchycharacter]

Can't say I really give a damn about it right now.

[The fuck-ups didn't have anything to do with Elena's death, causing or stopping it.]

[a_shadow]

Fair enough.

[ Nathan doesn't seem up for caring about much. Just about the grief he's being wracked with. She takes small sips of her tea and small bites of her pastry as they continue to sit, without digging into it enthusiastically—she wants to be seen as commiserating with him. ]