(Untitled)

[darlingreporter]

There is a strange, bandaged man walking through the apartment complex. He stops at every open door and gazes in, not particularly caring if there's anyone in the room or not. Each time he moves on, apparently disastisfied with something.

Schwarzwald wants a room. But there are certain things he requiresA typewriter would be preferable, but if

Comments

[notjustnarrator]

Schwarzwald will then notice a fairly bruised up man staring at him, eyes wide in either confusion or wonder or terror or some odd mix of all three.

(For the record, it's probably the latter; as far as Nick knows, he's looking at a real, live mummy!)

So he just stands there and stares.

[darlingreporter]

Schwarzwald pauses and stares back in that 'I'm not quite playing with a full deck' sort of way. "You. Where might I get a room and a typewriter?" he says, jumping right to the point. He's not one for small talk anyway. "I need to begin my work."

[notjustnarrator]

HOLY CRAP IT TALKED.

Nick's head tilts a little bit and he eyes the... thing... in front of him, taking a little step back.

"Um. You can uh, check the apartment assignments in 202, and... typewriter, not sure we have any around here, at least, I haven't seen them, and..."

He blinks.

"What are you?"

[darlingreporter]

"Yes... I think I will do so," he says, mentally noting to check that room. He also notes that the man is clearly afraid of him. Hehe, now that was funny!

"I'm a man, just like you," he says, leaning in a bit closer. "I was a reporter. But as you can see, the truth often comes at a price!" He holds up a bandaged hand. Burned flesh is visible between the wrappings.

[notjustnarrator]

Nick takes another step back. PERSONAL SPACE BEING INVADED.

But he squints at the hand presented, then, and his eyes go wide once more. "Oh," he stammers. "I'm sorry, I didn't..."

Uh.

"I'm Nick Carraway, I sold bonds, and..."

He trails off, then looks down to his own bandaged hand, and holds it up in response. "Protecting the woman you love comes at a price, too." Especially when there are vampires involved!

Then he adds, in a small voice, "Even if she doesn't love you back."

[darlingreporter]

Heh chuckles slightly. "It hardly matters now. Sometimes you have to undergo a transformation to continue your work." Nick might be surprised at how little Schwarzwald seems to care about how he looks.

"For now, you may call me Schwarzwald," he says, nodding slightly. His smile widens slightly at the mention of a woman. "Michael Seebach had a wife," he mutters, remembering his life as a newspaper reporter. "But even those bonds must sometimes be sacrificed to get what you truly want and need."

[notjustnarrator]

Nick is! But, he has seen stranger around here, so it only fazes him for a few, fleeting moments.

"Schwarzwald," he repeats, letting the name sink in. His shoulders then slouch a bit at the last comment.

Nick has no idea what he wants or needs.

... except for, you know, Nina.

But that's hardly something he wants to talk about at this current point in time, especially with someone he just met.

After a few moments of silent thought, he extends his hand to the man. "Well, Schwarzwald, welcome to the end of the Earth."

[darlingreporter]

"And here I thought that was Paradigm City," he muses aloud. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind sharing with me what you know about this place, Mr. Carraway? This may not be where I come from, but my purpose is still the same: uncovering the truth." He fumbles in his coat for a moment before finding a pen. No paper, but a pen. He could write on his bandages if it came to that.

[notjustnarrator]

"Well, no one really knows where we are, or how we got here, just that... we're here, and... here is apparently what's left after some sort of apocalypse. There's no life left, save for those of us in this apartment here, and um... vampires and magog, they live underground, not around here. When it rains, it's acid and it eats away at everything - some people died in the last storm - and... we keep getting more people as time progresses."

That's what Nick's gathered, anyway.

[darlingreporter]

He feels around in a pocket on his jacket until he finds a scrap of paper--no doubt a piece torn off from one of his fliers. He begins to scribble furiously as Nick speaks. Unfortunately, his handwriting has suffered due to the burns... another reason he needs a typewriter.

"A cataclysm... And there's no one who remembers what happened? No time frame for when this event occurred?" He pauses, poking at the piece of paper with his pen. "Vampires and magog? Elaborate. Are they the only ones who venture underground?" So many mysteries and so few answers...

[notjustnarrator]

"Um, as far as I know, people just started showing up here. They'd be doing something in their home... um, world, and then POOF, they'd just end up here. Personally, I fell out of the sky after having tea with a few friends."

He eyes the paper, then, and continues on warily, "They're a danger to those who live here. We've battled them a few times - I killed a magog - and... they seem to be pretty dormant, for now. There's this one, Harth, he used to live here in the apartments until he went crazy, and he's the one who controlled the magog, he took a bunch of people hostage, and um... yeah."

It's a lot to explain.

[darlingreporter]

He laughs. It's probably not the kind of laugh that will comfort Nick at all. "Oh, I believe I already gathered that much. I wandered into the desert and then, after resurrecting the leviathan... hehe, here I was! But how does it happen, I wonder? What is the mystery behind it?" He's thinking aloud at this point, not really expecting an answer.

More scribbling. "For what purpose? Destruction? Or some greater cause?" He doesn't particularly care if he's assaulting the poor man with questions or not. After all, he has to know!

[notjustnarrator]

It's not comforting; it is, in fact, very unsettling, and Nick folds his arms as though he's just felt some kind of cold wind.

"Personal grudge," he mutters. "Although, if I were you, I wouldn't try to dig up any details. No one really likes to talk about it." His voice is stern when he says this - he's being completely serious. With all that's going on now, he doubts that anyone wants to hear the name 'Harth' spoken again.

[darlingreporter]

Hmm. Interesting. "Oh? So people prefer to avert their eyes from the past? Hahaha! This place truly is like Paradigm City. I will need to dig deeper... in time. And I trust that some people are not so timid when it comes to the past." There's some more scribbling, though it's unclear what exactly he's writing down.

[notjustnarrator]

"I'm not being timid," Nick says, eyes narrowing just the slightest bit. "I'm being respectful. Some things are best left in the past."

[darlingreporter]

"I must disagree, Mr. Carraway. The past must be faced, not avoided like something to fear." He tucks away his slip of paper in his worn trenchcoat, satisfied that he probably wouldn't be able to get much more information out of this man. "And I plan on discovering what happened here, no matter what I might dig up. The truth is the ultimate pursuit, wouldn't you agree?"