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Lt. JG Nathan Richards - Open and Closed Doors

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I'm specifically including the opening to this sim - as it segues partway through to a different location and scene, but this first part, inter-cutting between narration and relevant quotations is so unique and striking that I felt it simply had to be appreciated here. Nice work @Nathan Richards!

Full sim available here: Lt. JG Nathan Richards - Open and Closed Doors


((Fitness Center, Amity Outpost))

“Suppressed grief is like an ember. It radiates a burning glow in the chest. If disregarded, it could rekindle a fire.” - Anoir Ou-Chad

The punching bag swung back and forth slowly as Nathan stared at, catching his breath. Sweat beaded down his forehead and neck as he began his assault on the hanging bag. The sound of his bare fists against the bag almost echoed in the mostly empty gym as he continued to send punch after punch.

“Grit your teeth and let it hurt. Don’t deny it, don’t be overwhelmed by it. It will not last forever.” - Rabbi Harold Kushner

Nathan let out a low growl in his throat as his swings came faster. More aggressive. He felt the grief and anger churn and boil with each swing. The flames that engulfed the landing pad sat at the forefront of his mind as the driving force for each blow thrown.

“But there was no need to be ashamed of tears, for tears bore witness that a mad had the greatest of courage, the courage to suffer.” - Viktor E. Frankl

He had told himself that he was okay. That everything would be okay. He had even seen the light at the end of the tunnel as he sat in the shuttlebay and planned for the future. He had found calm in the possibility of something new coming from the loss. But what had he really lost back there? The memories would live on. The experiences would fuel the memories. The physical moments spent within the Targhee…the work that was put into bringing it to life…

“When it is darkest, we can see the stars.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Nathan yelled as he sent out one last punch into the bag. No words. No real meaning. Just a manifestation of the feelings he had held since returning. He felt the sweat running down his face, his eyes burning from either the sweat or tears, he wasn’t sure which. His chest rose and fell with every heavy breath as he stood there and looked at the floor, small, dark circles forming with each drop that fell from his nose and chin.

“You will survive and you will find purpose in the chaos. Moving on doesn’t mean letting go.” - Mary VanHaute

A trill from his personal PADD grabbed his attention, pulling him back to the present. He walked over to the nearby bench, grabbing a towel and wiping his face. He took a deep breath and picked up his PADD to look at the message he had received. 

Richards: Second Secretary Siben? Who is that?

He sent his response, agreeing to the meeting and slipped the PADD into his duffle. He needed to head back to his quarters and clean himself up before meeting with Siben. He ran that towel through his hair, and felt a sting in the knuckles of his left hand. He looked down and saw the skin was red and raw, a couple of the knuckles had split open with blood beginning to slowly climb to the surface.

Richards: It’s probably fine.


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