| Nathan Lynch | |
|---|---|
 "I'm trying to keep an open mind, but I would appreciate if you didn't try to shove an entire circus tent in there in the meantime, yeah?" | |
| Canon: | Original/London Mysteries |
| Species: | Human |
| Hometown: | London, England, UK |
| Age: | 36 |
| Journal: | whateverremains |
| Player: | Ammmy |
It is, of course, a trifle, but there is nothing so important as trifles.[]
Full name: DI Nathan Lynch
Height: 5'11"
Hair: brown
Eyes: brown
Occupation: detective inspector for the Met. Criminal Investigation Department
Nationality: English
We must look for consistency. Where there is a want of it we must suspect deception.[]
Nathan Lynch was born in 1974, to Charles and Iva Lynch. His older brother, Michael, was three years his senior. Charles was a mechanic, and though the family wasn't rich, they maintained a lower middle class lifestyle, eked out but the occasional alternation work from Iva. The boys went to state-run schools, but the neighborhood was stable and the education was solid enough. They didn't often have the newest of clothes or school things, but ends met more than they didn't.
Michael was the more outgoing of the two brothers. He was charming, and knew it early. He had many admirers but very few close friends; as he entered adolescence, he gathered many girlfriends, but no one steady. Michael gave his parents constant headaches due to his nonchalance and outward irresponsibility, but despite their differences, he remained on good terms with Nathan (good terms here including a rather steady stream of teasing insults and goads). Nathan learned to ignore most of them, and he also learned he was more effective at putting his foot down if he picked his battles.
Nathan, for his part, was a better student than his brother. Never a brain, he still did steady, consistently careful work, and had solid grades. (After Michael's on-again off-again approach to academics, his parents were thrilled.) He was only slightly popular from association with Michael; he didn't get invited to many parties, but he was never a target for bullies either. He played football, and had one or two good mates, but mainly Nathan got through school by keeping his head down and working hard.
At around age 15 or so, he decided he wanted to pursue a career in law enforcement. He kept his grades up, and was accepted directly into the training programme at age 18. His father was proud, but hesitant, and though he didn't say so, clearly wished Nathan had taken a little time to explore his options before settling on a career. On the other hand, Michael at 21 was thriving by some means he couldn't easily explain, so their younger son was the least of the Lynch's worries. In fact, his mother privately expressed the hope that Nathan could get his brother "back on track." Nathan was skeptical that Michael would ever do anything he didn't want to do for any reason, but simply agreed to try.
Nathan devoted himself to his work for the next ten years. He was never an idealist, but he did believe that giving a shit made a difference, and while his effort didn't win him any medals, he got his criminal investigation training and made Detective Sergeant. His relationship with his parents was distant but warm; as with most aspects of his life that weren't work, family wasn't dysfunctional so much as neglected. He began to suspect Michael of some actions that weren't strictly legal, but the brothers maintained a policy of "don't ask/no really, just don't ask" that meant they stayed amiable at arm's length. Michael traveled a great deal regardless, so Nathan was seldom forced to make any hard calls. Nathan dated now and then, both men and women, but as with many of his colleagues, found it hard to balance a social life with his job. He lost his taste for most casual sex by his mid-twenties, so he ended up watching movies and eating take out most Saturdays.
In 2002, Nathan lost his parents in an automobile accident. Though very few people saw it behind his facade of steadiness, he was devastated, and threw himself into his work all the harder. Michael wasn't there for the funeral; he couldn't get back, apparently, from Sydney. The resulting row between the brothers was intense, and still hasn't fully healed in 2010, though they do speak on occasion.
In 2004, Nathan was promoted to Detective Inspector, his current rank. He's in excellent shape (he plays for the police football team, to the eternal frustration of the fire brigade), and prefers to be in the field to sitting at a desk, though the sad truth is that age and promotions are slowly herding him that direction. His social life has become steadily more non-existent, but he is quite talented at his job, and his superiors have noticed.
Unfortunately, he got a different kind of notice in the spring of 2009. He was in the process of investigating a particularly brutal murder in the West End. The wounds almost looked like they had been made by an animal, but the forensics team hadn't been comfortable saying firmly that it wasn't human. Something about the case had bothered him, and he'd poked around longer and harder than he should have. He and his then-partner were attacked while following up a lead, landing his partner in the hospital.
When he filed his report, he was honest as ever, and said firmly that whatever had attacked them had not been human, but was certainly not a dog or even a wolf. He knew what all three looked like, and this was none of them. This resulted in a quiet talk, a "suggestion" that he take a week's vacation for mental health reasons, and the unspoken understanding that he should revise his statement.
He took the vacation, but left his statement.
They never caught the killer, which grated at Nathan, the more so because his partner had been so badly wounded by him. He began to do some independent research in off hours to see if other similar cases had been reported in surrounding areas, or in the past. Rumors began to circulate that he was a little obsessed. His work never suffered, so his superiors had no grounds to reprimand him, but he was undoubtedly making them nervous.
Nathan knows they're looking for a reason to transfer him, to make him someone else's problem. But the case has gotten under his skin, and he can't just let it go. Besides... he suspects something much bigger than he knows is going on, and he hates being in the dark.
To let the brain work without sufficient material is like racing an engine. It racks itself to pieces.[]
- DI Bellamy Morray - tba
- General TBA-ness
Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent.[]
I am not Omar Epps or Arthur Conan Doyle. Nathan, while mine, owes his creation directly to Kay and Dele.