Nathaniel Sheffield
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Nathan, Nate, Sheff' |
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24 |
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Male |
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Likes |
[
+]
Music, especially acoustic guitar[
+]
The woods, nature, and fish[
+]
Writing (though he's not very good at it)[
+]
Silence[
+]
The sound of the wind[
+]
A small stray dog he found and takes with him everywhere[
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His sister's cooking[
+]
Running (something he has a strange talent for)|
Dislikes |
[
-]
Superficiality[
-]
Noises repeated over and over again[
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Reading (gets too agitated)[
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Birds[
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Corn[
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The sun when it's just rising[
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People attempting to help him[
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Soccer|
Personality |
To say that Nate is antisocial would be to vastly oversimplify a frankly complex issue of the mind. Nate is bitterly sarcastic, to a point that it starts becoming hard to tell whether or not he's kidding. His fatalist look on life has left him hollow and cynical, rejecting all sorts of interpersonal relationships, regardless of whether one had or could have existed.
Spending the majority of his time alone, it would be somewhat surprising for some to find that he can actually be quite sociable if he's in the right mood. To those that only experienced these brief periods of sociality, he appears genial, gregarious, and more or less normal to anyone, if a bit reliant on deadpan sarcasm for his humor. In order to not feel hollow and bitter, however, he sheds this extroverted shell every so often to slink away, alone, and find that everything with him is as bad as it is.
As it is, Nate is primarily regarded as somewhat of an outcast, a failure in the genetic pool of extroverts. The sad fact is that Nate genuinely feels the pull to interact with others, but when he does, he often gets muddled in cynicism, lashing out at anyone who tries to get close to him. Anyone who knows him regards him with suspicion, and anyone who doesn't regards him with the same morbid curiosity one might have over a dying animal. In his disregard of love, he has stopped believing it exists, and it would take something truly miraculous to change that.
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Place Of Origin |
Newark, New Jersey
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History |
Nate's history is one wrought with self-inflicted pain and heartbreak. To start, he is recovering from a crippling drug addiction started in his waning high school years that both tore him and his family apart. It was near the end of his sophomore year that he first tried marijuana--which was nothing special, he had thought; everyone smokes marijuana at least once in their life. As he casually dabbled in the drug through his junior year, a friend of his introduced him to the wildly erratic effects of prescription pills. Nate tried this for a short time before ditching them, finding the results more trying on his stomach than his mind.
The summer before senior year was when he tried heroin first, and it was at that moment that he truly became an addict. It was at a summer beach house in Chincoteague, Virginia, where the sun was high and warm, the ocean soft and green, and the women were aplenty and willing. This beach house was used extensively by his friends as a drug hideout and mini-harem, and the things that went on behind its wind-washed doors could frighten even the most stalwart of hearts.
Regardless, Nate was hooked, and through senior year he experimented with wildly varying drugs of different qualities. The terrifying effects of PCP forced him to legitimately question whether his addiction was a sustainable habit, but it wasn't until he nearly ruptured a blood vessel from heroin use that his family finally got involved. Aware that something was wrong from the start--missing valuables, $1,634 missing from the bank--his parents instinctively placed him in a rehabilitation hospital, a move he so detested that one night--after a day spent drinking his parents' liquor--he stormed up to his mother and threatened to kill her if she sent him there.
That was the final straw, and his father promptly called the nearest psychiatric hospital, where he was taken away in a strait jacket and kept in solitary confinement for several weeks. Coming out humbled, emasculated, and thoroughly doubting the goodwill of mankind, Nate looked to an outlet. He found one in music. Combined with his natural proclivity for rhythm, he became quite good at the guitar, eventually signing up for night gigs in bars and nightclubs. The little money he made on the side was enough for his parents to begin to forgive him, but they figured he needed something else, something special. So, on his 24th birthday, they gave him a trip with several other people his age from across the world.
"To meet people who you can trust," his mother had said.
"To see the world and experience something magical," his father had said.
The naturally skeptical Nate had replied, "You should look at the tree outside our window."
But he complied, if only to assuage his parents' worry, and with low expectations for the future, he prepares for the next few weeks to be some of the dullest of his life.
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Extra |
Nate actually has had several girlfriends, but none of them stayed with him. (Most were too overwhelmed with his issues to do so, and one left him because she thought his friend was better.)
One of the few people Nate loves and respects is his younger sister Phoebe, who was one of the reasons he tried to quit drugs in the first place.
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