#orustedheart

the bright lights of "diamond city" are hard to miss as they approach, but joss mostly misses when you went there for a game and a hot dog. not grocery shopping, your public newspaper, weapon repair...so on and so forth. getting searched before walking into a baseball diamond wasn't what they had on their apocalyptic bingo card, either. or all these humanoid robots.

this model is far beyond any assaultron in baker's day, that's for sure, though it's in rough shape. and it (he?) doesn't respond to commands, either. joss wonders who programmed "valentine" to dodge questions about its designation like it did back in the vault. mostly, finds it an impressive work of technology, if a little infuriatingly too human.

plotted main verse starter kellogg situation go brrr @o-rusted-heart

♘ ― the one thing she could recall about the first incident is that it felt like sleeping, as if she had not been conscious in her body at all. she woke up to the screaming, a knife in her hand, and a wounded ally look at her in horror as if she were the enemy they had been fighting just days prior. river had hoped anchorage was the last time she would ever have to feel like she had no control over herself, but the commonwealth she had once called home was now an unpredictable place.

she could at least recall the first punch she landed, the initial rage that filled her veins like a vile, stinging venom making her blood run cold the moment her sister's name left his mouth. it was as if she blinked and once she opened her eyes, she was right back where it all started. river could hear someone calling her name, hands frantically pulling her back from something as she struggled fiercely against their hold.

had he not snapped her out of her trance, she was certain she would have turned on him too. the guilt of that alone settled deep and heavy in the pit of her stomach when she stared at the scene before her. the mercenary had been reduced to a gory mess, barely even recognizable and the evidence of what she had done was painted across her clothing like a canvas.

❝ nick did... did i? i hurt you didn't i? ❞ her voice was barely audible, coming out in nothing but a quivering whisper. she felt the familiar stinging of her eyes and the burning of bile in the back of her throat that she had force down as tears began pooling and threatening to spill over. ❝ oh― oh my god. f-fuck. jesus fucking christ. ❞ she looked at her powerfist, eyes widening as she began trying to take it off amidst her panic.

it hit the floor with a thud, loud enough to make her flinch and she stumbled back away from her companion's hand as if every touch burned against her skin. it wasn't until her back hit one of the rusted old desks that she stopped and a shaky breath escaped from her bruised, trembling lips. her hands desperately rubbed at the crimson fluid covering her arms to try and get it off, but it only smeared against her pale skin like a stain and caused her more panic.

❝ i did it again. i'm so s-sorry. ❞ all she could so was mutter apologies, her breathing quickening and becoming no less calm as she couldn't tear her eyes from what she had done.

He's just... absolutely covered in mud. Nick looks as unhappy as he is stinky.

"So a Mirelurk tried to drown me. That was neat."

/

Cary held the rifle in his hands, a cigarette hanging from his lip, frowning in half concern and half disgust at Nick covered in the mud of the river. The mirelurk was dead. The cats would be real fucking happy about that soon. He knew it was dangerous being so close to the river. 3 of his 4 beloved cats had the scars to prove it. So did he. But he couldn’t leave Michael. And besides, he actually liked it here, holed up in his fortified shack, his holo collection, his mess of wires and cables to broadcast from the nearby satellite tower. It had taken him weeks to work all that up and be discreet about it.

Nick visited him. Cary didn’t need to go anywhere. He was careful enough. And he knew Nick... usually... was careful enough about being followed.

“If I spray you down with a hose are you gonna short circuit?”

        ‘ you know, i’m not a squeamish woman, ’  she comments as casually as she can while she reaches down into the remnants of her husband’s killer.  ‘ but this... this is pretty gross. ’  nora has applied tourniquets while under fire and been up to her elbows in the blood of dying men; she’s known the battlefield since she was seventeen. but combat medics usually don’t fish around in the shattered skulls of corpses.

         something glints amid the gray matter—something metallic.   ‘ interesting, ’  she murmurs more to herself than to nick, grasping the metal and pulling it—and the bit of brain it’s attached to—loose. nora settles back on her heels, holding up her find to nick.  ‘ think that’ll work?  looks like some kind of implant. ’

Yet Nick wasn’t entirely pleased with their hard work if his sullen demeanor was any indication. Things had been pleasant since their date in a basement in the middle of a radiation storm -- Nick was a friend, one she thought highly of. One who was helpful and didn’t mind the secrecy all too much, considering his line of work. Maybe he was just getting tired of her.

She worried he was, anyway. It was why she’d been flirting all the more. The slathering of apple butter growing more and more sincere as time carried on, even if it wasn’t so obvious to anyone, including her. She’d picked up a drink for him from the the bar and slid it in front of him as she returned to sit across from him, a martini for herself in hand.

“A bottle cap for your thoughts, Nick?”

Is it just the contradictory side in her, that makes her want to rebuke the statement? Or is it that statement of his that hits a little too close to home, nudging against a thorn buried deep in her side; reminding her that it’s there, still there, not leaving any time soon. The pad of her thumb sweeps along a ring band, an action so miniscule it’s hardly even seen. 

She only stares at Nick now, wondering how much pain inspired him to say that. Does he picture Jennifer’s face just as she pictures Nhat’s? Or does he think of something else entirely - couples meeting ill-fortuned fates on one of his cases. The Nakano parents, grief stricken and waiting, wanting to know the fate of their daughter. What did Nick sacrifice for Jennifer? What did the Nakanos give up to know that Kasumi was safe and happy?

@o-rusted-heart​ sent: “You haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like.” -from Nick, Mojave Sunburn.

Nipton was feeling more and more like home. It wasn’t the agency back in Freeside, but out here they could see the stars a lot more clearly. Six didn’t realize how bad she’d missed them.

Houses were more livable. The bones and crosses on the streets had been gone so long Six only vaguely remembered what they looked like. The general store was back up, ready for the first stock of things that were on the way thanks to Cass. It meant they had more than earned a break. How long had it been since they’d sit out on a porch together, cigarette and drinks in hand as the radio played in the background? Too long, really. She’d missed this, too.

As Nick spoke, the Six’s laughter dissolved into giggles before fading off completely. The words warmed her heart at the same time made it ache just a touch. She had been distant in a sense -- throwing herself into work, not allowing herself any respite between recalibrating Yes Man and cleaning up the streets. She took Nick’s hand gently before bringing it up to her lips.

“Guess we just been kinda busy, huh?” Really, more like she’d been. It meant she had to re-evaluate her priorities. None of it meant anything if she couldn’t be sure Nick was at peace through it all. If seeing her smile made him look like that, then she’d have to do it more often.