Nate as an evil overlord.
Fits… surprisingly well?
Nate definitely has his dark side, even in Fallout 4. He’s very opinionated, and confident to the point of being arrogant at times. He’s only 22-23, but assumes he knows things better than most of the people he meets; although in his defense, he’s very gracious and apologetic when pulled up on that. And while in Fallout 4 he usually is loyal to the right people, I can really easily see him bestowing that on someone who is… less than great.
Most importantly, if he’s faced with a group he considers absolutely wrong (ie, the Institute) he will go completely Hellraiser on their asses.
So it turns out Nate being a Fatebinder of Kyros was a pretty good fit. The oddest thing is that being part of a larger group and having a structure to rely on, even if evil, actually means Nate is less fucked up than Fallout 4.
“We belong to Kyros, our lives are theirs above all else. To waste ourselves is theft from Kyros so by the Overlord, Nathaniel you are going to eat something or so help me…”
So Nate actually has a reasonably functional relationship with food in this world. Yay for evil armies and their rudimentary mental health services!
His backstory is a bit different but I’m really pleased I actually get to include trans!Nate in something, since it didn’t really working in Fallout 4′s backstory, and so far all he’s had is a little cameo in Bite Back.
Much like in Fallout 4, Nate’s born into a country that is very war torn. It’s only of the last Northern provinces still holding out against Kyros after the capitulation of Graven Ashe and the now-Dishonored. It’s been at war so long they’ve pretty much forgotten what peace is like, and everything in the country is pressed into service.
And unlike Kyros’ forces, they have definite views on how women should help the war effort. Basically by having as many babies as possible to fill the failing ranks of the army.
Nate was about eight years old when he realised this was what he was being intended for, and unlike Fallout 4 Nate, he didn’t try and tough it out, but sensibly ran away in the middle of the night.
He changed his name, lived on the streets as himself for six years. He didn’t really think about the war, getting closer every year, but just focused on staying alive and dodging patrols, and getting around the increasingly draconian laws.
After six years, his luck ran out. He was caught by the guard for stealing, and brought in front of the captain.
Who turned out to be his father.
Nate doesn’t like to think about what happened after that. He knows, logically, that his father was trying to be merciful. Penalty for theft was execution, and his father must have thought having Nate serve in the Mothering House would be kinder.
But Nate really, really would have preferred to have his head cut off.
And unlike Fallout 4, he can remember every fucking detail of the next four years.
At least he thinks it was four years. There weren’t any windows. Four births, anyway. He’d stopped speaking after the second. He’d stopped screaming after the third.
By the time Kyros’ forces finally broke through the walls and took over the city, Nate’s only thought was about the same as his Fallout 4 counterpart when he saw the bombs go off- oh thank fuck please kill me, I don’t care just as long as it’s over
As the forces took over district after district, soldiers came into the Mothering House and gave them weapons. Ostensibly for the women to kill themselves rather than fall into enemy hands. Nate looked at the blade, and his mind went- sort of red all over.
Years later, when he’s telling this story, Verse nods knowingly, “Yep, that’s what it’s like.”
By the time the Scarlet Chorus reach their district, the only one left standing is Nate. Covered in about twenty different kinds of a blood and carrying a butchered infant by the leg after he’d broken into the nursery. They are suitably impressed and take him to Tunon instead of just killing him on the spot- which is really not what Nate wanted and he’s screaming kill me the entire way there.
It’s probably not the most auspicious impression to make on Tunon the Adjudicator. Drenched in blood and demanding to die. Tunon is… well, it’s hard to tell behind the mask but the general gist is Not Impressed and he might just be about to quietly wave Bleden Mark to please kill this thing before it gets blood everywhere-
And stops. Nate still isn’t sure why. He looked at Tunon and it was like- the first real thing he’d seen in years. Like everything around them was just- the smoke that rose from his robes, and Tunon was the only thing that really existed. The one solid presence in the world. A fixed point.
Nate drew a breath, and started speaking. The first time he’d spoken in years and the words just broke out like a dammed river. Maybe he’d been saving the words, ready for this moment.
It wasn’t the best argument, stumbling and full of dead ends and confused examples, but the points were fairly well laid out and surprisingly coherent given the ending argument boiled down to please kill me and everyone else in this city.
But he must have said something right, because Tunon didn’t move as he staggered to the end of his recitation and- just fell to his knees as though the words had emptied him of everything he had left. He was crying, and pretty certain he’s about the die and please, please-
And Tunon looked at him. “What is your name?”
Nate blinks, because- they’d said his name when he was brought in. And Tunon keeps looking at him and it suddenly clicks and Nate swallows down a huge lump in his throat that isn’t just blood because oh thank you thank you he’s going to die under his own name. “Nathaniel.”
“Under Kyros, your name is Nathaniel.” And Tunon brings down his gavel on the word.
“Funny thing about Archon Tunon.” Nate explains as Lantry scribbles his story down, “When he lays down laws like that, the world changes in obedience. Maybe it’s just embarrassed to have been found fucking up so badly.”
Nate looked down at himself. And it was himself. He was very proud, he managed not to be sick all over Tunon’s robes. He burst into tears instead. His body was still a wreck, four pregnancies did that to you regardless of apparent gender. But it’s his, it’s his it’s his-
He’s not sure who takes him out of the hall. It might have been Bleden Mark, he can’t remember. He vaguely remembers having a bucket of water dumped over his head and being put in a room with a bed in it. He looked at the bed, and had no idea what it was. He slumped over and quietly passed out on the floor.
His first day as a Tunon’s Fatebinder started with someone accidentally stepping on him. Calio never lets him forget that one.
“It would have been a waste of resources to kill you.” Barik points out as Nate finishes his story. “Anyone who can kill a squad of guards with a dagger and make a legal argument in front of a court is worth preserving.”
“Well, yes.” Nate shrugs. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it? Whatever reason Tunon had, this is what he did. And for that, I’ll love him forever.”