forum The soft footsteps of an ending life

Started November 14, 2020 by @Althalosian-is-the-father book

tune

Different people. Different reasons. Same place. Same questions.

When Nathaniel Harper started volunteering to talk to hospital patients, often terminally ill, he never thought how much it would make him question what he thought about the universe, or himself. But a good deed and an air of tragedy can sometimes bring people together, often for the better. With the air of death all around, one can sometimes find a quiet peace inside the chaos, making him wonder, maybe things do happen for a reason.

Are you going to be in it? Bc I was thinking Beck would be good. Even more w his backstory.

Yeah, I'll probably join.

Name: Nathaniel Harper
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Appearance: Not one to stand out from the crowd, looks-wise, Nathaniel has the look of any average tall, thin, white American. His skin is light, but can’t be described as pale, he stands at a tall 6’3”, the only thing that is instantly noticeable, never one to play sports, his build is very lightly muscled. His eyes are green, dark, but not noticeably so and are sometimes framed by rectangular glasses, which he always wears when reading. Often wears more casual button up shirts on a daily basis, and is more a khakis than jeans kind of guy.
Personality: Quiet thinking type, though perhaps not introverted, he doesn’t mind time alone, but is more than willing to discuss just about anything with a stranger (though not politics as a general rule), finding great enjoyment in casual connections to humanity. His openness to others gives him a subtle charisma, and he is naturally empathetic, which makes others more likely to open up to him. His greatest obstacle is probably the hard time he has with being spontaneous, always wanting some kind of plan ahead. His greatest fear would be of heights, though few notice as he rarely allows himself to be in a position that would rouse his fear.
Other: Full of surprise talents, such as fencing, cooking, piano, and his newest hobby, origami. He also is working on a romance novel, the one thing he rarely ever mentions.

_{He tall}

Name: Beckett Randall
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Appearance: Olive-tan skin with freckles. Average height and weight with a slender build, not much muscle mass. Dark brown eyes with long lashes. Dark brown hair, thick and wavy and usually poking out from under his battered grey hat, which he's rarely seen without. Often has a contemplative expression.
Personality: Beck is very closed off, usually focusing on talking about any subject besides himself. Not a big fan of small talk, he enjoys discussing things that matter, although he also gets a kick out of purposefully absurd discussions, like the type you'd have with a little kid. He tends to get a bit existential over things that most don't as well. He often grapples with feelings of being trapped or confined and unprepared, as well as–though he won't admit it–lonely. Spends a lot of time alone, definitely an introvert. He feels very let down by the world at large, and wants to help others to do better than he is. He desperately wants to feel something.
Other: Hates geese. Would be willing to die to protect a child, but also finds them extremely annoying and too loud. Used to play baseball; usually right field, he tried pitching once and nearly broke his sternum. Reads a lot (his favorite book is Franny and Zooey) but wants nothing to do with an English degree. Adores hiking and going for long walks in the mountains or woods. About to start his first year of college, where he's majoring in philosophy.

_{may I join as well?}

_{I can bring the ✨short character✨}

Mmm, it depends. I do have to ask what plan you have for other characters? Would they be patients Nathaniel visits?

I have a sibling of someone terminally ill, so another visitor? They're a professor and their twin has ALS

The lights overhead flickered occasionally. The buzzing was almost imperceptible, but Nathaniel could still feel it in the back of his mind, even though he had to concentrate in order to actually hear it. The air smelled. Not unpleasantly. But it was sharp; harshly tinted with the odor of sea breeze sprays and disinfectant.
His long stride stayed constant, uninterrupted by any odd glances his way, the turns in the hallway met by equally swift turns of his feet. His backpack weighed him down, filled with snacks (okayed by the nurses of course), and some specifically tuned to different patients. His face fell momentarily as he thought of Ally’s smile whenever he came in. They would be finishing The Hobbit in a few days. Sooner if Mr. Booker let him take an extra day off. He was always lenient.
He stood still as the nurses checked his temperature and rattled off the list of possible symptoms he might have (all negative) before the business faces dropped and the one to the left, Casey, halted him before he could enter.
“Be careful,” he murmured, before shifting out of his way, “Andrew’s having a bad day.”
Nathaniel nodded, and entered the room with a smile bigger and a little more forced than usual.

It was a slow day at Page of Mind, but Beck really didn't care. It was usually pretty slow, after all. He sometimes wondered how Paige managed to keep the shop open. He'd considered asking her, but then decided that he'd rather keep his job, thank you very much. Besides, he trusted that Paige had it covered. The door to the shop flew open, the small metal bell clanging noisily, and he flinched.
"Beckett, thank God!" Paige exclaimed, walking into the shop with the swagger of a mob boss. She flew from shelf to shelf, plucking books off and dropping them into a PAGE OF MIND-branded tote bag. "Listen, honey, if you wouldn't mind, I need you to drop this at the hospital."
She jerked the bag up, then darted to the next shelf.
"See, they've been asking for donations and we just have so many books that we're nearly out of shelf space!" she explained. Beck stood up and walked to her, and she shoved the bag into his hands.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, aren't your orders coming in tonight?"
"Pfft. I can handle myself here," Paige said, waving a hand dismissively. "Besides, Nita will be coming over to help."
"Oh." Beck kept his voice purposefully unaffected, blunt. "That's awful nice of her."
"You still talk to Nita, don't you?" Paige's eyes sparkled, and Beck could tell that she thought she was playing matchmaker.
"No, not really," he said with a shrug. "I mean, Nita's fine and all, but we haven't really been keeping up."
"That's really too bad," Paige said. "I always thought you two got along. I'm surprised she hasn't called-"
"Miss Smith, I'll personally run the books to the hospital if it means we can end this conversation," Beck interrupted. God. Why did people always try to involve themselves in his life's conflicts?
Paige gave a soft hmph! and passed him the bag.
"Well, then," she said. "You'd better hurry. No need to come back after, you've met your hours for the week anyways."
"Alright," Beck said, unable to shake the feeling that something about their conversation hadn't gone quite right. He hadn't been too snippy, had he? He didn't think so.
He gave Paige a half-hearted wave as he left, that ridiculous bell clanging behind him, and walked to the bus stop to wait. He glanced down at the bag, spied the book on the top. A copy of Finding My Voice that was almost certainly older than he was looked up at him. He considered pawing through the bag to look at the other titles, but was interrupted by the bus's arrival. He boarded it, spending the short trip to the hospital looking out the window.
When he arrived, he felt a slight bit of unease standing in front of the building.