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Taking Requests for Character Art
What a speedy turnaround. Danke very much!

Taking Requests for Character Art
If you're doing Second Chances Dos would you mind doing Jay in your style? Would be much appreciated~

((Nate Turner continued from Darkness in the Light))

He stood in the hallway, water long turned foul pooled around his feet.

Jon was lying there. It had only been minutes since the screams had stopped, since whoever had killed Jon had finished. Nate recognised him, but only barely.

They weren’t friends, just in the same grade. Nate wasn’t even sure what his name was, but he recognised him.

So what? He recognised everybody. Everybody was dead by now.

He stood there. He stared, hands clenched, lump in throat, every unpleasant feeling that he could feel was right there. There was no other way to feel.

Jon was dead. He’d listened, hid, done nothing, as Jon had died, as someone had killed Jon. He couldn’t have done anything, but he hadn’t even tried.

He was worthless.

He felt his throat shortening, trying to swallow that awful lump. He was shaking.

He could see it: the machete, stuck out of Jon’s body, completely wrong. Of all the brutality, plainly visible on Jon’s corpse, it was the most offensive. The most sickening.

This was what they wanted. This was what everyone wanted. Someone had wanted to do this to Jon. Someone had wanted to do it to Nate. Someone else would try to do it to Nate.

The machete said it all:

This was the world he was in. It was this, or die.

He didn’t want this.

But he didn’t want to die.

He took a step forward. He had to stop. Wanted to stop. He couldn’t.

“You knew Alvaro, you knew what kind of guy he was like. But now he’s killing people. It’s the same with Nancy, she was always really nice too.”

Another step forward. He was close enough now. Jon was close enough.


He reached out.

He gripped the handle of the machete, with both hands.

”What if that happens to me?”

((Nate Turner continued in Amen))

Darkness in the Light

Nate looked up from his knees. Looked out the doorway. More screams. Looked back down.

They were still doing it. They were doing it right then, right down the hallway. He could go, try to intervene, try to stop them. He wanted to do some good, after all.

He didn’t move. Kept his eyes shut, head down. He couldn’t stop hearing the screams, couldn’t shield his ears. He couldn’t move.

If he went, if he tried to stop it, he wouldn’t do anything. They wouldn’t listen, no-one wanted to. They wouldn’t stop, no-one wanted to. They might even try to kill him, they all wanted to.

It didn’t matter what he did. He was dead, he knew he was dead, he was as dead as Caedyn and Nancy and Alvaro and Ben and everyone else. He thought he was ready for it, but then when he came close to it, when he’d almost been shot three times, he’d been so scared. He didn’t want to die, he wasn’t ready to die, but he was already dead.

He pressed his head down harder, as the massacre continued. There was nothing he could do to stop it, nothing he could do to help. He couldn’t help anyone, couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t do any good, he wasn’t fooling anybody. He’d lied to Clarice, plain and simple. He was just a miserable dead liar who couldn’t put his money where his mouth was to save his life, or anyone else’s.


That’s what he was. He hadn’t been killed yet when everyone else had, and there was absolutely no reason for it. That person dying down the hallway right at that moment deserved to live more than he did; for all Nate knew he might’ve at least been trying, doing something more than curling up in a ball and crying to himself. The person killing them deserved it more too. Even if what they were doing was horrible, was murder, they deserved to be alive when he didn’t, because at least they were actually trying.

The screams had stopped.

He wasn’t sure when, but the screams had been replaced with a silence that was somehow worse.

It was over.

He didn’t move. Not yet.

He was worthless.

((Nate Turner continued in Talons))

Darkness in the Light
((Nate Turner continued from 友達))

He was tired.

He hadn’t stopped being tired for days, perhaps since it had all started, but he really felt it right then and there. It seemed like no matter what, he couldn't catch his breath.

He’d eventually made his way back down to the basement, after hiding out since his encounter in the library. Maybe he’d just gone there because it was familiar. Maybe he was too tired to head outside again, and just needed an excuse. Maybe he was just going crazy.

The lobotomy lab was familiar too. It was where he went before after someone tried to kill him, a fact that lit up within Nate's subconscious. Maybe he could spend another few hours crying behind some boxes, he thought, and would’ve smiled to himself were he still capable.

The smell of Caedyn’s corpse might’ve stuck out at him, if he hadn’t walked past that same smell countless times by then. It seemed every corridor, every room, had a dead body in it by now. ‘Graveyard’, or ‘Morgue’: they weren’t even close to being the right words. He wasn’t sure the right words even existed.

He crouched over the body of another face from the drama club. The hole in her head was the blatant full stop to the sentence of how she’d died. Streaked with blood, smelling of copper, it was all familiar.

Yet, this seemed fresher.

Caedyn was dead, clearly, but she didn’t look like the other corpses. Apart from how colourless she was, she looked almost the same as before. Had she only died recently? Had he missed her by that much?

It was a disturbing thought, but he wasn’t disturbed by it.

He wasn’t sure why, and he wasn’t glad that he wasn’t, but it was the truth. Maybe seeing Nancy the day before had desensitised him, but in reality he'd probably been desensitised a while ago. Most of his friends had been dead for a long time.

He swallowed, the most expression he could muster. He tried to think, remember what had happened to Caedyn, but there were too many names by then. Who had killed who, who had gone crazy, it was all just one big blur, all residents of the same madhouse. Even if he had been able to recall how often her name had gone out, knew all the horrible things Caedyn had done to people, it might not have made a difference. In the end, no-one was the same anymore.

He sat down, a few feet from her body, and pulled his legs up to his chest. His eyes stayed dry, and he didn’t even sob. He just sat there.

Nancy had died. Alvaro had died. Caedyn had died. Matt was killing, someone else tried to kill him, others were still killing the rest. There just couldn’t have been that many of them still alive by then.

So what was next for him?

He’d told Clarice, with something almost resembling confidence, that he wanted to do some good. Even if it had only been a day since then, he’d done no such thing. The only living person he’d met had tried to kill him, without giving him a reason why. He'd only had one shot, and he'd blown it.

He hoped Clarice had found what she was looking for, at least.

Even if his encounter with Min-Jae had gone differently, if he'd actually been able to talk to him, he didn't know what would've happened. He’d thought, at least until yesterday, that talking to people might've been what he needed to do, to convince them that there was a better option than killing each other. He’d doubted himself, but he didn’t think he’d really abandoned that line of thinking, not yet. When it all came down to it though, what was he supposed to say?

It seemed that no matter what he tried, offering peace to Alvaro, pleading with Matt, or saying that he wouldn't hurt the stranger, none of it worked. No matter what, nobody was listening.

Maybe no-one wanted to. Maybe everyone preferred it this way.

He buried his head in his knees, letting out a long exhale. Caedyn still lay lifelessly next to him.

Nate staggered back from the bookcase he’d thrown himself at, needing an extra step to regain his balance from the clumsy manoeuvre done on empty batteries. Despite everything, he still found himself wincing in sympathy as the books crashed down on Min-Jae and sent him to the floor.

His first instinct was to reach out, offer to help. He stopped himself, because he had to, but guilt was creeping up on him. After all, he’d already claimed he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone.

“Sorry.” he said, loud enough for Jae to hear but only just that. He stayed where he was, trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing, when he caught sight of the crossbow that three times had been used in an attempt to kill him.

He didn’t want to be doing this, but he didn’t want to die either.

The thought stayed with him for a moment, until he was finally able to get moving again. He ran, all the way out of the library, away from Min-Jae, and further into the madhouse.

((Nate Turner continued in Darkness in the Light))

The third bolt went clean through the shelves Nate had been hiding behind. It went over the pile of tomes he'd pulled down, and impacted without remorse.

Luckily, Nate had already moved.

He kept his head down, powering through the panic that tried to make him squeal out again. His head was swimming, poisoned by the adrenaline and terror, and he wanted nothing more than to sit down and rest.

He didn’t want Min-Jae to find him, though.

He was doing his best to catch his breath without breathing out loud, but it was no good. Any second now, he’d buckle over and not be able to pick himself back up again. He was more exhausted than he’d ever been.

He heard footsteps. Picked his head up. Saw a figure on the other side of the books.

He pulled his hands up to cover his mouth, eyes drawing back into his skull. All Min-Jae had to do was turn around, look down, and he’d be seen. If he ran, he’d probably get heard. If he stayed still, he’d get spotted. If he started crying, they’d both happen at once. He was trapped.

Through whatever combination of fear and fatigue, a thought entered his mind. With no clue where the idea came from, but no time to come up with another, he took two steps back, braced his body, and threw himself at the bookshelf between them.

Nate pressed against another bookcase, still trying to figure out how much distance there was between himself and Min-Jae. His fingers wrapped around a shelf, holding on for dear life, as his eyes darted back and forth for signs of life that wanted to take his.

Min-Jae was shouting, but what he was demanding made no sense. Nate wasn’t trying to bother him in the first place, he was just trying to say hello. He was the one being chased around with a crossbow for no reason.

How was he supposed to leave him alone!?

He stayed put, listening for the sounds of footsteps. Nothing came, just a terrible quiet, the only noise being the boys’ mutual wheezing. He clenched his eyes, fear forcing them shut, as his teeth pressed against each other.

This was what he’d been spending the last few days preparing himself for, what he’d said to so many people by now that he was ready and willing to face. Right up until now, dying had just seemed like something that was going to happen, and it would be the end of all this suffering.

Damn it, he really was an idiot.

He shook his head, disgusted at how naïve he’d been. He opened his eyes again, looking around. He had to get out of there.

He pulled away from the shelf, ready to keep moving, but as he did so, his hands caught the top of the books on the shelf below the one he’d been grabbing. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to knock them down onto the floor below.

It wasn’t loud, but it had broken the silence.

Nate squealed again as another bolt flew past, slicing through the air inches from his shoulder. Between his heart pounding in his ears and what felt like a maze of bookshelves, it was impossible to keep a bead on Jae’s location.

He pressed himself against a shelf, chest heaving as he tried to listen for footsteps. “Is this it?” he thought to himself, in between the whimpers. Had this been what it had all been building up to? All the depression, fear, and agony over the past few days, just to get shot by someone he didn’t even know?

“Why are you doing this?” he called out, giving no thought to how it might assist his stalker. “I’m not trying to kill anyone! I don’t want to! I don’t want to hurt you!”

He felt his legs giving way, his back starting to slide down the shelf. The instinct to curl up into a ball and cry was overwhelming, as if that would solve anything. It had never solved anything when people picked on him, and it wasn’t going to save his life now.

So what was he supposed to do instead?

He checked around a corner for Min-Jae, saw nothing, and kept running.

Nate waited for a response, even though he hadn’t asked a question. It was because he didn’t know how to move the conversation forward himself, struggling to find something to say after admitting they were all a bit mad. It didn’t seem natural to make small talk after that.

He was about to speak again, maybe try to find out a name at least, but he was cut off by Jae’s motion. “What are you doing?” he asked, but didn’t get a response. Jae aimed, and that’s when it hit him.

He let out a shrill squeal, scrambling behind the bookcase and to his knees as a copy of A Farewell to Arms sailed cleanly over his head, bolt lodged between the bindings.

“What are you doing? Stop it!” he shouted past the books shielding him from sight, panic rising as fast as he had ducked. He started to repeat ‘oh God’ under his breath, thoughts freezing up right as they needed to go fast. His eyes darted for something, anything, but in the end he just ran blindly, further into the shelves that separated him from his attacker.

Min-Jae’s question caught Nate off guard. It was a sudden thing to ask, and not exactly easy to answer either. He didn’t exactly have much to go off of, after all.

“We just met, so I don’t really know.” He replied, not moving from behind the shelf. He still felt like he should.

“Have you done something that you thought was crazy? I know what that feels like, at least.” He smiled a little to himself, thinking back to heading up to the bridge. It was a good thing he didn’t have much longer left to live, he supposed; he didn’t want to be carrying that memory any more than he had to.

Was that what Min-Jae was worried about? Again, there wasn’t really any way for him to know. Maybe he was feeling that bleak, maybe he was going crazy like Alvaro and Nancy. Maybe he already had, and Nate would be none the wiser. At least, he’d be that way as long as they kept the distance between them.

“Well, it’s not just you. I think everyone’s going crazy by now.”

A Wild Beard Appears; A Pathfinder Experience
People Lisa helped not get eaten: 1
People Lily helped get eaten: 1

I'll draw your character when I'm bored
So good. Would I be out of line if I requested another character on the end of the queue? Cause I'd totally ask for

Jay Harland

if I may. Don't want to come across as greedy but again so good.

V7 Gamer DIscord Server
Is this something they advertise through the school or do you have to be 'in the know' to get access?

Nate gripped the corner of the shelf as Min-Jae downed his water bottle, regarding him back in kind. His head shook in response to being asked the time, still holding his position as the trivial question took a backseat to the current situation.

Between the drinking and the bandages on his face, Nate was naturally reminded of earlier with Clarice, whom Min-Jae didn’t look much better than. Nate was hesitating to lend a hand so soon, although he wasn’t proud of it. Still, the dishevelled stranger across the library was a far cry from the familiar face in the flooded basement, and the distance between them was preferable to none.

“A mask?” he replied, raising a quizzical eyebrow at an odd question. “I haven't seen anyone in a mask, sorry.”

As if the place wasn’t miserable enough, had someone decided to rip off some slasher movie? It would sound almost stupid if it wasn’t disturbingly possible by then: Nancy’s corpse was still in spitting distance, after all. It wasn’t someone he hoped to meet soon, that was for sure.

“Have you seen Clarice Halwood? She was in the basement with me, and she went off to look for someone.”

Had she said who she was looking for? He was having trouble remembering, but he didn’t think she’d given a name. Could Nate have found them first?

“Was that you?”

I'll draw your character when I'm bored
I'm just curious, what do you do your work with software wise?

I'll draw your character when I'm bored
Holy crap on a Christmas card Nate looks great and I am happy.

Thanks so much Kotori, I look forward to seeing the rest!

I'll draw your character when I'm bored
Holy crabsticks Olivia looks great.

Nate's a boy though :(

I'll draw your character when I'm bored
Dang that's some good art.

Ngghghgh I can't not ask you if you wouldn't mind taking a shot at Nate, I like the style too much.

Nate Turner

V6 BDA Quote Nomination Thread #9
V6's ninth BDA goes to MK Kilmarnock for the death of Coleen Reagan. Nominate your favorite quotes from Coleen here over the next three days, and then we'll get a poll up to decide which will be featured.

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