09-27-2004, 07:32 AM
Inside the locked quarters of one Nate "De" Niles, clothes lay strewn across the floor and bed, a mess of suit pants and jackets intermixed with dress shirts and shoes and a smattering of the the street clothes he'd been given on his excursion. Upon his dresser and bed various small bottles and jars and tablets lay tossed about, drugs of every conceiveable purpose all present in some form or another. In essence it was him. A mess of altered states and fancy pants.
How had this all come together? In his youth he'd been out in the streets hanging with the Yardies and acting a fool, shoving every drug down his gullet (or into his vein) his father felt fit to send him, and merely dabbling in he affairs of the Nightsiders. But later, he'd changed. Or been changed. Responsibility became his addiction, the workings of Australia's Demon and Mystic population becoming his workings. It's pulse becoming his pulse. It's false appearances.....
And that was what he'd become, wasn't it? A whole lotta nothin' wrapped up all nice and pretty to look like something else. To look "respectable". Back in Oz when something went wrong you either worked whatever mojo you had to make it right....or sent word to HQ that you needed a new partner. Away from Oz....
His mystic powers had all but shriveled up and died when he'd left home for Europe, and whatever knowledge he had of the streets had been replaced by knowledge of the Nightside. What he was had all but been erased by what he'd become. And yet in the end when it all came down to it....it wasn't some neat little magic trick or paranormal home remedy that counted. But the basic CPR he'd learned as a boy watching his friend try to save the life of another friend. One who had ODed. One who didn't make it.
Without a doubt his years as a Peacekeeper taught him what he was capable of, but was it his years as a vandal that truely taught him who he was? Was he a suit? Or a pill? A Peacekeeper? Or a Troublemaker? The Agent in him knew how to deal with facing Godzilla. The Addict in him knew how to save a life.
So.....who was he?
How had this all come together? In his youth he'd been out in the streets hanging with the Yardies and acting a fool, shoving every drug down his gullet (or into his vein) his father felt fit to send him, and merely dabbling in he affairs of the Nightsiders. But later, he'd changed. Or been changed. Responsibility became his addiction, the workings of Australia's Demon and Mystic population becoming his workings. It's pulse becoming his pulse. It's false appearances.....
And that was what he'd become, wasn't it? A whole lotta nothin' wrapped up all nice and pretty to look like something else. To look "respectable". Back in Oz when something went wrong you either worked whatever mojo you had to make it right....or sent word to HQ that you needed a new partner. Away from Oz....
His mystic powers had all but shriveled up and died when he'd left home for Europe, and whatever knowledge he had of the streets had been replaced by knowledge of the Nightside. What he was had all but been erased by what he'd become. And yet in the end when it all came down to it....it wasn't some neat little magic trick or paranormal home remedy that counted. But the basic CPR he'd learned as a boy watching his friend try to save the life of another friend. One who had ODed. One who didn't make it.
Without a doubt his years as a Peacekeeper taught him what he was capable of, but was it his years as a vandal that truely taught him who he was? Was he a suit? Or a pill? A Peacekeeper? Or a Troublemaker? The Agent in him knew how to deal with facing Godzilla. The Addict in him knew how to save a life.
So.....who was he?