[ Much like Nigel's first post, there is only silence when the device first clicks on. Eventually, though, the young man on the other end of the connection clears his throat. His tone is politely curious. ]

I've been told that the dead do not stay dead here and in ways much more involved than the occasional curse. Which leaves me wondering, City: is there no need for undertakers here?

[ There's a pause and then Nigel adds: ]  I had hoped to make myself useful.

( action; locked to saya at the garage )

--------

[ He posts much later that day, well after the reality of the situation sets in.  Even delusion requires a little time to adapt itself; certain truths have to be rewritten in order to accommodate unforeseeable circumstances.  Some pills are harder to swallow than others, however.  Not having Jack here is one of them -- no, that one is going to take a little while longer to get down. 

And so he posts, the communicator clicking on to allow a few seconds of white noise, the sound of air passing through the microphone and nothing more. Eventually, though, he clears his throat quietly. If there's a strangeness in Nigel's voice, he doesn't realize it, but it's most certainly there -- a flatness to his tone that sharpens to an edge once Jack's name is mentioned. ]

Good afternoon, City.  I'm looking for a young man named Alex Forbes.