Unable to remember who he was, Nick had left his phone behind when he'd fled the house, when he'd gone on the search for a man he despised in another world, another time. He'd spent the days walking the caves on his bad leg, listening to the quiet beep still echoing in the back of his mind, trying to figure out just who he was in the world and what his place was within it. The fog cleared eventually, as it always does when the gods finally put an end to their games, and he remembered his identity as Nick Valentine the machine rather than the man: a copy, a fake living off the memories and behaviors of the real deal. He's a synthetic simulacrum of the original with nothing to really call his own.
Well, save for what he has here, in Hadriel -- his family, albeit one that is currently broken. He can't recall what happened in full detail, but he remembers enough through the distorted memories: he'd thought he was the real Valentine, having awakened from his brain scan at the C.I.T. to find he'd been trapped in some kind of robot body. Rey told him the truth, warned him it'd been years since that happened, and that he was a completely different person, in a way. He didn't listen, blinded by his own rage over the injustice done to him, to Jenny. She and the original Nick had been dead for years, but for the synth, the wounds had still been as fresh as the day they'd been inflicted.
And so he'd shot Rey in the leg and left on his own, determined to hunt down the ghost of a man who isn't in Hadriel, and might not be anywhere anymore, for all he really knows. Their shared home at the First Spiral is empty when he returns -- without Rey, it's just a house. Yet despite that, he hasn't called, hoping to give her space. He'd put a bullet in her, said he was going it alone, and that he didn't need her help.
They're partners in this, he's told her before... and yet, it's so easy for the gods to turn them against one another. As he walks the street looking for her, his cane helping him along the way, Nick wonders if she can forgive him. A bullet to the leg won't do much to someone like her, but he can't say that for the damage done to their friendship, their family. That might be harder to repair.
And that's if they're still a family in any regard, if they can still trust one another. He has no way of knowing just yet how much of what she said that she actually meant. Could he even fix what they had, given what he is?
He's not a person, after all. He never has been.
They need to talk, and in-person, not over the phone. It's Confusion's tracking system that actually helps him find her -- at least one good thing came of the madness she brought to town.
His gait is nearly inaudible on the ground as he pockets his phone, the dirt soft beneath the trees. However, given how quiet the air is, she might be able to hear someone with a limp -- and a cane -- making his approach, his eyes glowing bright in the darkness.
no subject
Well, save for what he has here, in Hadriel -- his family, albeit one that is currently broken. He can't recall what happened in full detail, but he remembers enough through the distorted memories: he'd thought he was the real Valentine, having awakened from his brain scan at the C.I.T. to find he'd been trapped in some kind of robot body. Rey told him the truth, warned him it'd been years since that happened, and that he was a completely different person, in a way. He didn't listen, blinded by his own rage over the injustice done to him, to Jenny. She and the original Nick had been dead for years, but for the synth, the wounds had still been as fresh as the day they'd been inflicted.
And so he'd shot Rey in the leg and left on his own, determined to hunt down the ghost of a man who isn't in Hadriel, and might not be anywhere anymore, for all he really knows. Their shared home at the First Spiral is empty when he returns -- without Rey, it's just a house. Yet despite that, he hasn't called, hoping to give her space. He'd put a bullet in her, said he was going it alone, and that he didn't need her help.
They're partners in this, he's told her before... and yet, it's so easy for the gods to turn them against one another. As he walks the street looking for her, his cane helping him along the way, Nick wonders if she can forgive him. A bullet to the leg won't do much to someone like her, but he can't say that for the damage done to their friendship, their family. That might be harder to repair.
And that's if they're still a family in any regard, if they can still trust one another. He has no way of knowing just yet how much of what she said that she actually meant. Could he even fix what they had, given what he is?
He's not a person, after all. He never has been.
They need to talk, and in-person, not over the phone. It's Confusion's tracking system that actually helps him find her -- at least one good thing came of the madness she brought to town.
His gait is nearly inaudible on the ground as he pockets his phone, the dirt soft beneath the trees. However, given how quiet the air is, she might be able to hear someone with a limp -- and a cane -- making his approach, his eyes glowing bright in the darkness.