Again, no answer. Whatever is happening, it begins as crackling and garble, two voices (neither belonging to the same women as just moments before) coming together in the light ahead, blazing together within the immaculate white hallway.
As if what he just heard wasn't confusing enough, what comes next is most definitely Nick's voice, without a question: "The name's Nick Valentine, and no one in my family tree is a plastic-skinned freak!"
Was this his memory, or a memory that Rey had once already shared? Safronov mentioned 'mnemonic synthesis', but without her specifying what they actually means then all it is is more scientific technobabble.
The first voice echoes in the crackling light: "Y̵̕oư̢̕'͏́r̵̨e ͏͏j͘͜u͝s͞͠t҉͏ ̸̕c̛͢͏o͟͞͠ǹ̴f̡u͘s̀e̡d̀̀. L̡͡e͠t̷ ͡m̸e͟ ͏̶̨hé͢l͏p̧̢.̴.͜͠.̕͢͜"
Static.
Their words break up, with some twisted feedback audible in the walls surrounding Nick: "S̛t͞án҉d͝ ͜b͜a͘c͠k͟.͏ H̛e̷ is ͞so͢metimȩs l̡o͟s̷t͜ ẁhen͡ he҉ ̢awake͡n̶s͘."
Static.
"I don't think I'm real." That's Rey, though it plays back warbled and wrong. Like she shouldn't be here. "Rather, I don't think any of this is real. Not really."
"Wh̸at ̨th̡ey̢ ̴ha͜v̢e d͘o̸ne͡ to hi͠m͡... k̢e҉ep͜ ͠do̷i̧n̨g t̸ǫ ҉him͟..."
(Safronov tries to link, but there's too much interference.)
"it is h҉a͏rd f̷o̴r hi͡m̢ to ̶rem͞e̛mb͝er ́m͝e f̀o͟r l̢on͘g."
(Emotional distress? That has to be the root cause. Dammit, Nick, neither of you are holding it together.)
"H̛e̷ is ͞so͢metimȩs l̡o͟s̷t͜ ẁhen͡ he҉ ̢awake͡n̶s͘."
"Valentine?" Safronov finally speaks again in the middle of the white noise and scuffle between Nick and his 'brother', struggling to maintain an audiatory link between them for long. "You need to be calm."
no subject
As if what he just heard wasn't confusing enough, what comes next is most definitely Nick's voice, without a question: "The name's Nick Valentine, and no one in my family tree is a plastic-skinned freak!"
Was this his memory, or a memory that Rey had once already shared? Safronov mentioned 'mnemonic synthesis', but without her specifying what they actually means then all it is is more scientific technobabble.
The first voice echoes in the crackling light: "Y̵̕oư̢̕'͏́r̵̨e ͏͏j͘͜u͝s͞͠t҉͏ ̸̕c̛͢͏o͟͞͠ǹ̴f̡u͘s̀e̡d̀̀. L̡͡e͠t̷ ͡m̸e͟ ͏̶̨hé͢l͏p̧̢.̴.͜͠.̕͢͜"
Static.
Their words break up, with some twisted feedback audible in the walls surrounding Nick: "S̛t͞án҉d͝ ͜b͜a͘c͠k͟.͏ H̛e̷ is ͞so͢metimȩs l̡o͟s̷t͜ ẁhen͡ he҉ ̢awake͡n̶s͘."
Static.
"I don't think I'm real." That's Rey, though it plays back warbled and wrong. Like she shouldn't be here. "Rather, I don't think any of this is real. Not really."
(No. Stop. What is this? Why is she here?)
"We'͡re͝ ̧p͡r͘o͟t̵ơty͝pes͢"
(This can't be right.)
"He͘ is͘ ̵m͠y̢ ̧b̕ro͘t̨hȩŕ i̧n th҉is͜, a̛s̡ c͠l̶os̢e to fam͡ --" (break) "--cán ͡hav̢e̴.̛"
(This has to be the wrong memory.)
"Wh̸at ̨th̡ey̢ ̴ha͜v̢e d͘o̸ne͡ to hi͠m͡... k̢e҉ep͜ ͠do̷i̧n̨g t̸ǫ ҉him͟..."
(Safronov tries to link, but there's too much interference.)
"it is h҉a͏rd f̷o̴r hi͡m̢ to ̶rem͞e̛mb͝er ́m͝e f̀o͟r l̢on͘g."
(Emotional distress? That has to be the root cause. Dammit, Nick, neither of you are holding it together.)
"H̛e̷ is ͞so͢metimȩs l̡o͟s̷t͜ ẁhen͡ he҉ ̢awake͡n̶s͘."
"Valentine?" Safronov finally speaks again in the middle of the white noise and scuffle between Nick and his 'brother', struggling to maintain an audiatory link between them for long. "You need to be calm."
Easier said than done, Saf.