As the scene plays out before him, Nick walks through the glass room, taking in the ghosts of people he has never met, but knows all the same; he's an apparition himself, unable to interact with what's happening no matter how much he may want to. This isn't like diving into his own memories -- it's strange to be on the toher end of this, and he isn't sure he likes it. That's not what matters, though. He's not here for a vacation. He has a purpose.
He doesn't need to be able to make out the man to know who he is. Nick has heard plenty from Rey, and the man's tone, dripping with the kind of arrogant amusement that makes the synth's proverbial blood boil, tells him the rest. He instead settles his eyes on the woman who would eventually be Rey. There's not much more he can do than watch her face, try to understand what she's going through, what she felt in that moment.
But every now and then, the closer the memory comes to the end, his eyes are drawn to that glitching table, and to the body that lies beneath. The first glance is painful enough for him, given all that has happened in Hadriel and who the gods chose to bring there; there is a flash from his own memory, her body no longer twisted and burned, but bleeding out from a gunshot wound. It's Undine one second, then Jenny the next, and—
Nick forces himself to look away. With as many gruesome and grisly sights as he's seen over the years, even in a wasteland like the Commonwealth, even some are too much for him to bear... especially now.
Tragic as this memory may be, it helped shape this woman into the Rey he knows. He starts moving again without a word to his guide, wondering if, in their connection, she caught that flicker from his own mind.
no subject
He doesn't need to be able to make out the man to know who he is. Nick has heard plenty from Rey, and the man's tone, dripping with the kind of arrogant amusement that makes the synth's proverbial blood boil, tells him the rest. He instead settles his eyes on the woman who would eventually be Rey. There's not much more he can do than watch her face, try to understand what she's going through, what she felt in that moment.
But every now and then, the closer the memory comes to the end, his eyes are drawn to that glitching table, and to the body that lies beneath. The first glance is painful enough for him, given all that has happened in Hadriel and who the gods chose to bring there; there is a flash from his own memory, her body no longer twisted and burned, but bleeding out from a gunshot wound. It's Undine one second, then Jenny the next, and—
Nick forces himself to look away. With as many gruesome and grisly sights as he's seen over the years, even in a wasteland like the Commonwealth, even some are too much for him to bear... especially now.
Tragic as this memory may be, it helped shape this woman into the Rey he knows. He starts moving again without a word to his guide, wondering if, in their connection, she caught that flicker from his own mind.