synthedick | 💘 ic inbox for hadriel

[Wait, what?]

No, nothing like that. It's...

[Huff.] Look, it doesn't matter. It was a stupid idea, anyway.

[There's a sigh on his end. Yes, going out into the desert with Caedra is a stupid idea, but wanting to find out just what IV was hoping to get her hands on isn't. He asked the lady herself when she was in town; he had to know what the stakes were if Rey got sent home, needed to understand just what it was he was fighting for when it came to keeping Hadriel safe. He needed more proof on why it was important they find the Door and figure out how to use it themselves rather than risk the damn thing sending them back to their own worlds and times. To some people, there was nothing left; to others, it was a fate worse than death.]

She said she wanted your heart.

Yes, that's why I came back here with a rebar through my chest, remember?

[Not an intentional jab at Nick's memory problems (which Rey at present knows nothing about) at all. Just unfortunate wording.]

To be more specific, she was rambling on about some crazy shit concerning an "artificial soul".

I got that, too. That, and how she wanted to make the rest of her kind more human.

[Playing Dr. Frankenstein, as she'd put it. The comparison was appropriate. His voice darkens just a hair.]

As for what she was going to do with you once she had that heart, she said she'd either keep killing you, or continue your 'creator's' work.

[And as they both know, Nick wasn't about to let either of those happen.]

Ah, yes. That. "Be more than human".

[That's what IV wanted. The phrase speaks for itself.

[Rey falls quiet at the next part Nick tells her. While she sort of knows these things, they don't give her the concrete answers she's looking for -- whether or not there is concrete evidence of a soul, and if a synthetic being such as Rey would be capable of one.]

Didn't know she got that chatty before you snuffed her. Not surprised, though. That bitch doesn't shut the hell up.

[Nick falls silent again, save for an indistinct, noncommittal grunt. He's not particularly proud of what he had to do, even if it was to protect Rey. The fact that flashes in his memory of that day sometimes get mixed in with those of Jenny and Undine doesn't help.]

Look. Whatever it is she wanted, it doesn't matter. You're not going back there.

If by "there" you mean home... You don't know that for certain.

[Rey hates to admit it, but it's better to be real than to live expecting that she's an exception to the many numbers that have come and gone.]

Just want to be sure I know what I'm coming back to, if that ever happens.

... Right.

[All he says is one word, but his tone says far more: he doesn't want to even consider that possibility, as he already knows what she'll face if she gets sent back to her world. It hurts enough thinking about his friends being sent back, returning to worlds where they've died or have nothing left; Rey isn't just a friend, though. She's more, and she's been more for so long that it's hard for him to imagine things without her.

Maybe it wouldn't matter in the end, either. Who's to say that if Rey vanished, he wouldn't just forget her eventually, his processor overwriting memories of her as new ones were made?

He continues after several seconds, avoiding the topic entirely for now. He'll have to talk with her about it eventually.]

Keep an eye on Caedra, but I wouldn't go anywhere with her alone.

In a way.

[He considers Nick's comments about reaching out- he's honestly not sure what he'd do with his kind of command. It's different from Maketh's, less military, more personal- and there's something about him, some kind of human quality to him that Rome never quite knows how to deal with.

It would be an adjustment period for both of them if they ever worked closely together. Unfortunately, with this new piece of information, Rome isn't sure if Nick will ever trust him again.]

I hid her god killer.

[It takes Nick a solid minute to reply, and when he does, his message is brief:]

We need to talk about this in person.

[Because this might be his private inbox, but doesn't think for a second that the gods can't read these transmissions.]

I'll be at the guard headquarters.

[If he's surprised by the need to meet up in person, it doesn't really show in his text. Rome leaves immediately, dropping everything in order to start off in that direction. If Nick wants to meet somewhere else, he'll reconvene there, but for now- well, the sooner all of this gets off of his chest, the better.]

[The Guard HQ is good enough for Nick as he, too, drops everything he's doing and beelines back there. The rest of his patrol can wait until this potential fire is put out. He spends the walk connecting dots on just how Rome got a hold of Maketh's god killer, and how Maketh got that god killer in the first place -- and every conclusion he comes to just paints Maketh in a worse and worse light. After all that happened with the former commander and what he saw in Rey's memories, he can practically feel the oil in his gut boiling.

He pushes the door to the HQ open and scans the room for Rome, his expression as serious as a heart attack as he heads for the office in the back, motioning for his subordinate to follow. He'd prefer as much privacy as possible with this -- the last thing they need is for the wrong person to get a hold of this thing and take out one of the gods when no one's looking.]

All right. Talk to me.

[He's well aware of the gravity of the situation, but that doesn't stop his heart from sinking even further once he catches the odd oil and leather scent of Nick approaching. They don't exchange words, but Rome follows all the same, glancing at any others in the room briefly before turning his gaze toward the floor, fully understanding that this won't be a pleasant conversation.

Once they're in the office, he stands at attention, straight-backed and watching Nick carefully. Rome has never been good at reading people, even humans, and so Nick is completely alien to him- he can't sense anger in him in the way he can sense it in humans, can't smell fear or relief, it's all absolutely unreadable.

He pauses for a moment at the command, collecting his thoughts, before beginning.]

After Miss Maketh fought with Rey, she was brought to me so that I could look after her. Rey ordered me to glean the location of the god killer that Hux received from miss Maketh and deliver the location to her and the guard.

[Which in itself was not entirely clever on Rey's part. Not that she should have seen Rome's betrayal coming, but that Rome is literally the last person in this city capable of any kind of manipulation, particularly on someone who was so recently his commanding officer.]

I was also instructed to dispatch Hux if he approached. [He didn't, thankfully enough.

There's a pause, and Rome falters for a moment, growing uncomfortable as he draws closer to his digression.]

When miss Maketh woke up, we spoke and she asked if I was loyal to her or the Guard. She told me I had to make a choice. I had every intention of following my orders, but- she- [How does he justify what he did? Rome doesn't have the language to explain how close he was to her, how much she understood him, how she used him in the exact way he needed to be used in order to feel at peace again. All he can say is that he was supposed to be loyal to the Guard, but he chose her.

He'd choose her again.]

I never told anyone. And I never intended on using it. I just- kept it hidden.

Edited 2018-04-25 06:20 (UTC)

[While Rome stands at attention, Nick crosses his arms. He's definitely no military man, hardly even a cop or a proper guardsman in any regard -- he's an old synth playing detective, doing the best he can with what he's handed, trying to figure out just where it is he stands in the world. He was comfortable back home, for the most part: he knew the streets of Diamond City like no one else, had somewhat of a reputation in the Boston area for all the good he'd done, despite his artificial nature. Here in Hadriel, it's been harder to find his footing. Some folks come from worlds without synthetics; others come from places in just as bad of shape as the Commonwealth, albeit in different ways. As for Nick himself, there's no real need for a detective in a town so small and isolated, one where the most obvious answer in a missing persons case is that they got sent home.

But he wanted to help people, so when the Guard got started, he was eager to join. He respected Henry, but he knew Maketh more, was on better terms with her out of the two commanders. She doubted herself so often, but he was there to advise, to bring her around whenever he could. She had some real demons, but she was facing them, trying to be a better person.

And in the end, it hadn't mattered one bit. She'd still been drawn back toward her old ways by Hux. She'd thrown out all her principles, all her morals, setting her sights on one goal and damning everyone else in the process. She'd betrayed all of them. How someone could remain loyal to her after what she did -- using him for her own gain, having not learned a damn thing from being thrown out of the Guard—

Indeed, Nick is harder to read than most regular humans, but not impossibly so. His brow tightens, lip quivering for just a moment as he grinds his teeth together. Half a dozen questions cross his mind, some far more revealing of his own discomfort than others, but he goes with the obvious one first.]

Why? Why would you follow the orders of someone who was willing to sacrifice the very people she swore to protect?

[Harsh, but the truth so often is. It's not like Rey to commit to permanence, and if what she still remembers and feels about Maketh has taught her anything, it's that they don't have a say in who gets to leave. If they did, that damned woman would have stayed long enough for Rey to give her a piece of her own mind. Or a fist.

[But such things are too little, too late. Like so many other things. The best she can do is make the most of the present, and Rey has no intention of expediting the inevitable by throwing herself into situations that would leave Nick alone again. She just can't do that to him.]

Understood. It won't be a problem.

And... thanks for letting me know, about her.

[She means that.]

Thanks for listening.

[He means that, too. Rey can be stubborn, and she wouldn't be the first person to ignore his advice and do whatever she wanted anyway... but he knows why she doesn't, and he appreciates it.]

I'll see you at home.

[Stop judging him, Nick. This is about your decisions, not Nate's.]

So what, you just...strolled up and said "hey, can you cut that out"?

[It's the one question that he doesn't know how to answer. Rome has been taught to not have attachments- social interaction times between wolves were kept at a minimum, enough to form some kind of kinship, but hardly enough to divert his loyalty from his handlers. It was that loyalty that Maketh took advantage of, abused, whether she meant to or not, and it was that loyalty that left him standing here today.

Not to an organization. Not to the guard or the military or any other commanding body that he proclaims to follow with all of his being- but to the person on the other end of the leash. In the end, that's who he bound himself to. In the end, that was all that mattered.

His hand flexes for a moment, uncomfortable, and it takes him longer than it should to reply. When Rome does finally speak, his voice is measured, careful, and still jumbled- he could be given weeks to come up with a proper answer and still not know what to say.]

Miss Maketh was... she was-

[He grits his teeth and breaks eye contact for the first time, looking down toward the floor.]

-she was my handler. [Is the easiest way for him to put it.] It has never been my place to judge the orders of my superiors. I'm subhuman, sir- I don't have the morality or the mind for tactics that my commanders do. I'm a soldier. I follow orders.

[Despite the fact that the orders came from someone relieved of her command, that he had orders from someone else to betray her. That's the sticky part, isn't it?]

More like I took a shot at her when she didn't take me seriously, but yeah. Something like that.

[N i c k.]

[There are a couple of terms that Nick doesn't know the exact definitions of when it comes to Rome, but he gets the gist of it. More importantly is that he watches as Rome speaks, his golden eyes remaining on Rome's until they are cast away, flicking to the tightness of his jaw, then the curl of his hand. Maybe he's here because he truly feels guilty; maybe he's here because he feels he has to be, that something must be said. Given how adamant he was about Maketh's orders when it came to being his watchdog, Nick has lingering doubts Rome has come to realize Maketh was wrong to keep things from the rest of the Guard, especially a god killer.

But that's neither here nor there. His brow knits, his voice even as he speaks.]

Even soldiers have to make judgment calls on the battlefield and answer to themselves at the end of the day. Just following orders blindly is something a machine would do. [His emphasis on machine is heavy, laden with quiet disgust and regret -- it is a little ironic, given what he is, and he knows it.

His look remains hardened, but his voice softens just a bit.] Do you think what she was doing was right?

I don't know.

[It's a safe answer. If following orders blindly is machinelike, then Rome is more mechanical than Nick could ever be. And how could he not be? It's all he was told to do, and anything else is treason, punishable by imprisonment, solitude, death.

Somewhere, a memory flickers past of his first handler- the cruel one- standing over a prisoner while Rome held a gun in his shaking hands. It was too heavy for him then, he hadn't gotten used to the weight of it yet, had to hold it with both hands to steady it while his handler whispered left knee, Hart.

He'd sobbed afterward. He remembers that distantly now, how it felt to do something he didn't want to because someone commanded him to. He remembers how it felt after he killed his first man. His first woman. His first child, all on orders. How it felt to see his handler's hand raise up in a silent command and to reach for his gun while dread clenched itself in a ball tight in his chest.

He doesn't feel that way anymore. It isn't his responsibility to feel that way. It's his responsibility to be a living, breathing tool that can be trusted to complete an objective- a hardy, resilient supersoldier with sharper senses, higher pain tolerance, better agility, more strength. A dog, his handler would grit out between his teeth. A canine partner.

So Maketh had taken that and used it because she knew how, and Rome had jumped to the weight of her hand because it was familiar and the two of them fed off of that kind of relationship because it was comfortable and easy and because it felt right. Rome's morality, if it ever existed, had been crushed out of him long before he entered Hadriel.

Maketh understood that. She was the only one who did.]

I think- that she thought that it was right, [he finally says, trying to be as helpful as he can.] And if she did, I had no authority to judge her. I know that answer frustrates you, sir. Please understand my limitations as a soldier- I was extensively trained to follow orders, as you say, like a machine. I don't act of my own accord.

[Nick doesn't look angry or frustrated; he doesn't even look disappointed so much as... sad, almost pitying. He knows too well someone who was like this. She was made to be a tool, a weapon, and treated as such.

She's coming around. Maybe Rome will too, in time.]

You don't act of your own accord, but at the end of the day, someone has to take responsibility. Maketh isn't here anymore, so it's on you.

[And he hopes that's a part of why Rome is here. He said he wanted to rectify this; he said he'd accept punishment. Nick doesn't think the latter is necessary just yet, but he needs to know Rome understands why things can't be like that anymore. Nick's brow furrows as he keeps his eyes on Rome -- he's not used to leading people, and he's still figuring out how to act like it.]

For what it's worth, I agree with you. I think Maketh was doing what she thought was right at the time. Problem is that what she thought was right wasn't, and the way she justified it to herself instead of seeing it for what it was didn't help. You can't start an organization like this, then turn a blind eye to a guy you know is out for blood, especially when there were children on that hit list. She was your handler, but she was also a hypocrite.

[His nose wrinkles, his inward disgust rearing its head once more. His voice darkens, his own metal hand curling in upon itself.]

She chose her own hatred toward the gods over the safety of the people here when they needed her most, all because it suited her agenda.

[He's never happy to admit what Maketh had become. He had a lot of respect for her, more than most in the city; he'd known her early, agreeing to help her not long after his arrival. His guilt over what happened to her presses upon him, pushing him to speak again as his gaze hits the floor.]

I was her subordinate too, but when it came right to it, I had to put my foot down. We tried to help her. Hell, I wasn't the only one trying to talk her out of going back to the way things were back home, to working like an agent of the Empire rather than the woman we knew... but she did it anyway. We can blame the world she came from, we can blame the Empire and what they taught her, but she's the one who made that choice in the end, just like you're making a choice to bring this up now.

[He sighs, his eyes flicking back to Rome's face, the anger in his expression having worn away; what's left is a rueful look, one tempered with curiosity.]

You could've just left it hidden. You didn't have to call anyone, me of all people. But you're here. That counts for something.

[Rome isn't sure if he's entirely comfortable with this sort of talk, particularly aimed at Maketh. He's no stranger to seeing his handlers scolded, but it's different when she isn't in the room, when the scolding is less about the way orders were executed and more about outright treason.

It doesn't seem to be a particularly easy topic for Nick either, and Rome knows that Maketh cared for him very much- he must have cared for her in turn, even if he's disparaging her now. He's growing to learn how that kind of care works, how friends will correct one another without a structure of power in place adhering them to one another's judgement, but it's still foreign enough to him that he has to consciously think about it when he sees it happening.]

I understand.

[And he does, sort of. He understands that Maketh acted against the principles of the guard, and he understands that he went with her anyway, that he treated her word as law above Nick and Henry's, and that that was a mistake. He understands that the morality of his current superiors is in contrast to Maketh's viewpoints, and in order to prove his loyalty, his own morality should align with Nick's and not hers... it shouldn't pose too much of a problem. Rome has never particularly cared for the gods one way or another: his duty has been to the people here and to those who would give him orders. Whether they want to sacrifice their own to kill the gods, or protect the civilians here, it makes no difference to him.

That counts for something though. He doesn't know what that something is, but- well, Rome has been operating by his own will since Maketh left. His own will brought him back here, to Nick. That counts for something, apparently.

Doesn't it?]

I understand if you don't deem me as trustworthy, [he says, focused again now that the topic has moved away from his own beliefs,] but I put the Guard above everything else in my life. I hope that you understand that. I know that my needs are- unique.

[Schedules operating around the lunar cycle, whatever this handler business is, and apparently now education in morality.]

-but the structure is- I can't operate without it. I will do anything you ask of me, without complaint or hesitation, but I'm... I'm not good on my own. Since miss Maketh and now Morgan left, I'm not...

[How does he even end that sentence? Admitting weakness isn't necessarily easy for him, and the thought of listlessness or melancholy is not one that he'd be able to come up with on his own. Romulus is a little like a greyhound, trained to do one specific thing and do it well, and when there's no challenge, no order, no game to make of it, he's going a little out of his own head.

He sighs.]

...I'm not being utilized well. Many here were uncomfortable with the idea of a handler, but- it's helpful, to be guided. I believe I perform better with one.

[Nick understands that need for structure; he understands how rules and the chain of command help some people, even if he is against taking it to an extreme, abusing the power like Maketh did. He's met enough soldiers and cops to know that some folks prefer to just do what their told, never questioning the higher-ups and their decisions. There was a time the real Nick might have done that, and look where it got him.

However, he also understands loss, and the feeling of being left alone in the world because of it. He understands the struggle of finding a place and a purpose. He knows firsthand what it's like to have to forge an identity, something other than what a person -- machine or otherwise -- was made for. Nick the synth has been there, and still deals with it even now as he's stepped into this new position within the Guard. Maketh has been gone for months now, and he's still trying to figure out just what it is he brings to the table as the co-head of the Guard. He's not military like Maketh was, not a charismatic fighter like Henry. He has a far different perspective.

Maybe that's why, despite that he's not comfortable with this 'handler' concept, Nick does his best to find a compromise between their individual ideologies. He hasn't worked closely with Rome, but he's never known the guy to be anything but dedicated to the Guard -- maybe that was all because of Maketh, but even with her gone, he's still here. This is the first time, as far as Nick knows, that Rome has really crossed a line, and as much of a doozy as it is, there are some extenuating circumstances at play. That makes him reluctant to immediately pin Rome as entirely untrustworthy. Counts for something, indeed.

The problem is if Rome is still operating under this whole 'handler' rhetoric, they'd better make sure whomever is next in line isn't the type who'd greet a fella with one hand and stab him in the back with the other. From the message earlier, Rome seemed to imply he is the next step on the ladder. Nick pulls in a breath, pushing out a quiet sigh. Change isn't easy. He knows that well, too.]

Look. I appreciate you bringing this up... and better late than never. [He's just glad it's not too late.] You're gonna have to learn to make your own decisions sometime, but until then, I'll do what I can, if that's what'll help. All right?

[The look in his glowing eyes is one of sincerity, his tone even once more as he speaks. He might not be happy about this stray god killer situation, but he's not the sort to stew in his anger. He's the type to try to make things work.

And perhaps that's why Nick is right for this position within the Guard, no matter how much he doubts it sometimes.]

[It's not an unfamiliar sentiment. Morgan has said the same thing, Kyna does even now. You're gonna have to learn to make your own decisions Nick says, and Rome nods hesitantly because- well, he knows that, more or less. As much as he craves the structure of his military back home, that will never be replicated in Hadriel, and unless one of his handlers waltzes through the Door, he doubts that he'd be able to find someone who knows just how to deal with him.

Still, almost sixty years of training and service is difficult to undo, and Rome has struggled for a long time in Hadriel with knowing where to start. What he had with Maketh was good, but it wasn't sustainable- nothing seems to be sustainable here, and while Rome has always been adaptive on the battlefield, he's never had to adapt his entire lifestyle to anything else.]

Alright.

[Rome agrees quietly, understanding that this is likely the best offer that he'll get- and if Nick is willing to work with him, then maybe he can change his perspective. His jaw goes tight for a few moments as he tries to consider the possibility of what Kyna wants, of what Morgan wanted for him and what Nick is gently trying to reinforce now: of being his own person, making his own decisions. The agency is frightening, a little overwhelming, but this is his reality now. It's been his reality since Maketh left, really- and he hasn't snapped in the months since, hasn't transformed and killed anyone, has stayed dedicated to his principles and the principles of the guard.

So maybe- he can keep doing that. And maybe the loss of direction will eventually fade. All he can do is try.]

Would you like me to take you to the god killer?

💘 ic inbox for hadriel

[audio]

[audio]

[audio]

[audio]

[audio]

[audio]

[audio]

[audio]

[text]

[text]

[text]

[audio] → [action]

[action]

no subject

[audio]

[audio]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject