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I live in the American Gardens building on West 81st Street, on the 11th floor.
My name is Nick.
I’m 27 years old.
I believe in taking care of myself, in a balanced diet, in a rigorous exercise routine.
In the morning, if my face is a little puffy, I’ll put on an icepack while doing my stomach crunches.
I can do a thousand now.
After I remove the icepack, I use a deep-pore cleanser lotion.
In the shower, I use a water-activated gel cleanser.
Then a honey-almond bodyscrub.
And on the face, an exfoliating gel-scrub.
Then I apply an herb mint facial masque,
which I leave on for ten minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine.
I always use an aftershave lotion with little or no alcohol,
because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older.
Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm, followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion.
There is an idea of a Nick.
Some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me.
Only an entity-- something illusory.
And though I can hide my cold gaze…
and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours…
and maybe you can even sense our life styles are probably comparable,
I simply am not there.
's captain’s quarters on the first floor. There’s only one floor. My name is NineBangerz. I believe in taking care of myself, with a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning, if my head isn’t ringing from the post-regicide meal of hallucinogenic fungus, I’ll admire the chiseled musculature of my Herculean physique in front of the brig mirror and pop a resistance focus in a matter of time before the cursed teal men crawl up from the floorboards, and they inevitably do. I can eviscerate a thousand now.
of Sicily, concealed with arcane wizardry while I prepare the rest of my routine. I fasten the belt around my waist, strapping a quality saber from the remains of a Commodore long perished in an unfortunate terrorist attack I had every part in premeditating, the sharpened canine from an aberrant beast of the depths the voices instructed me to wrestle with, and a serrated arcanium humidifier bestowed upon me when I held Poseidon’s soul at gunpoint. I always enchant my equipment with little or no drawback, because drawback is very painful and can make you die. Lastly, I don my loincloth, then my pink Hawaiian shirt, finally followed by my pair of crocs, and plot a course to the impoverished district of Tiberia, Ravenna, to triple the rate of famine in the region myself, dwarfing any progress that incompetent goon of a ruler has made.