[center][h3]Nick Waller[/h3]
[sub]November 29th- Late Afternoon-Evening[/sub]
[hr]
[/center]

No signal? Hah, what was this, some kind of horror movie?

The things Nick's mind latched onto at some points were an absolute mystery that even the world's top scientists and cryptologists hadn't cracked, but at this moment, it was the sheer asinine coincidence that really made it seem like they were in some kind of messed up horror movie alternate world. 

It was a few moments before Nick was able to actually really pay attention to the video Dakota was showing him, though the pervasive sense of wrongness the other boy's contact was giving him started to grow at the same time. He ignored it out of some kind of twisted sense of politeness, not wanting to jerk the hand off of him, and unwilling to back away and be forced to take his eyes off the only real evidence that he was not, in fact, losing his absolute goddamn mind. 

Kind of important, that. 

Hearing Dakota and Barney talk about the cracks in the video, and seeing them in the video itself, Nick started to come back to himself. His breathing started to stabilize, and he managed to start standing just in time for the spotlight to nearly send him back to the ground. Forcing himself up, Nick sighed in exasperation as the doors to the prison exploded open and the guards came running out, demanding they halt where they were. 

If these were normal-looking cops, without the borderline psychopathic attitude these were showing, what with the threats about their legs and all that, Nick [i]might[/i] have tried being difficult and asking why they were being detained. But these were not normal-looking cops, they were wearing some sort of identity-concealing gear, like some kind of stereotype of evil shadow government agents in a spy movie. Thus, Nick went to the final stage of 'the script': Shut the Fuck Up. 

His hands went up in the air, and even as that disheveled guy tried to fight, Nick kept his head forward and walked. He enjoyed having working legs, thank you.