synthedick | 💘 ic inbox for hadriel

It'll be fixed when it's fixed. Parts for folks like us aren't easy to come by here.

[That's both a curse and a blessing as far as he's concerned. It means less synths to worry about from his -- their, now -- neck of the woods. They've got enough problems with mechanical beings as it is.

He cocks his head toward the stairway, wanting to clear the downstairs in case someone comes by.]

You're not the only one from our world who's come through town. We had a Minuteman, a former Paladin, a reporter from Diamond City, all knowing a lot more than I did about what happens to the Commonwealth down the road.

[ Oh, are they going upstairs? DiMA gestures for Nick to lead the way as he listens to the list of people who've come and gone from this place. Interesting, he supposes. At least it helps his brother deal with the concept of his existence. ]

And you've been here through them all. Long enough to be commander of the guard. I wonder why.

[ Not quite a question, just DiMA processing. ]

Pardon me for saying, but you seem to be... much more accepting than when we last met for the first time, to you. In this case you called me brother first, but when you arrived in Acadia, you hadn't known I existed. And rejected the concept rather vehemently.

[Not quite a question indeed, but it's something that's been on Nick's mind more and more these days. Why him? Why is he still here while others come and go? Is the Door really that fickle? Is there something about him that drew its attention and won't let him go? Or does he have some reason for being here?

He's not much of a man of faith, but he likes to think he's found his own purpose in Hadriel, one that certainly keeps him wanting to remain there. It's not just that the Commonwealth isn't all roses: there are people who need him here. He has a life he's made, a family he's forged through his time in the city. Even if he's more like the Null than a real person, he has a job to do here and folks who depend on him. And hell, even he has to admit it's been nice to occasionally run into someone who doesn't bat an eye at what he is because they've seen plenty stranger in their own worlds. He's looking at stranger right now, frankly.

But that worry over why him nags him constantly for more reason than just his own situation. More important than his remaining in Hadriel are the others who want to stay -- who have to because they have no life waiting for them back home.

He turns to hobble up the stairs, his footing just as uneven on them as it had been on the first floor. The second floor is decked out more like a casino, the usual lights and noise absent as he beelines for a room in the back.]

Let's just say I've had a lot of time to process the fact I had a brother out there... and that I didn't murder him.

[At least that's one concern that's weighed heavily on him off the list.]

[ DiMA follows Nick up the stairs, and through the casino towards whatever awaits in the back room. He isn't sure what to make of that statement, honestly. With this new knowledge that they could have come from anywhere along their timeline, is Nick from so much earlier that some memories of DiMA still remain? Their fight after escaping the Institute must be what he's talking about, but Nick didn't remember that at all when they last met. ]

I'm sorry, I don't understand. What is it you do remember?

Not a damn thing.

[And this is where things get complicated. He pauses halfway across the room, his eyes on the floor, his back still to his near-twin.]

I learned a while back that I don't have enough room upstairs to process everything. It all just gets... overwritten eventually.

[Nothing quite as uplifting as the thought that he'll eventually forget everything and everyone he's ever cared for because of some hardware limitation, now is there? It's just one more reminder that no matter how human he feels some days, he's not.]

My, er. Engineer here has gotten access to my memories a couple of times. It's all fragmented up there, disjointed. But it was enough to say that you existed.

[ Interesting. DiMA doesn't have the faintest idea how the timeline aspect of this is possible... Nick will, in theory, go home at some point, for DiMA to have just seen him. But he didn't know any of this, back home. He doesn't understand, and doesn't think that Nick would be able to explain. Perhaps someone else will?

For now he focuses on the information he's being given about his brother specifically. His component-topped head nods carefully, just once. ]

At least I don't have to break that news to you again. It's true. Our prototype brains have limited capacity, which is why I built myself memory banks. Now I choose what to offload so nothing is ever truly lost.

One did come along with me. I was actually hoping you'd know someone trustworthy with technological resources here... my own engineer is back home, obviously.

[Though he already knew it, having confirmation from this brother of his about his limited memory doesn't give Nick a bit of relief -- assuming this really is him and isn't some elaborate trick of the gods, though they've never put names on the network before.]

I could ask Rey. Maybe Doctor Alphys down at the lab.

[There are a few others, but those are the main two he'd trust if it were his memory. They're the ones who've been there before. His frustration bleeds into his tone.]

What else am I missing? I don't even have access to those memories, or what's left of them, but Rey said when she was- [He'd better steer clear of explaining the time they went into one another's dreams.] -going through them that we got into a fight. I didn't know what happened, or if you were even real. The folks that run this place get into our heads. It wouldn't be the first time.

[As much as he hates to say this, given how he was pretty staunchly against having a watchdog—]

Watch my back for now. I'll let you know if anything changes.

[Given that his old house is on another island, Nick has been living at the Speakeasy in the back for a while now; thankfully, the place is closed when Nate shows up. Since the owner is out of town, he keeps the place locked up in the mornings until one of the helping hands arrives to take over. In good news, that means its empty, leaving them two of them alone to discuss things.

And yeah, he's got some things he'd like to discuss.

He unlocks the door, letting Nate in.]

Haven't changed your mind on this, have you?

Not unless he had some papers on what to do if he up and vanished.

[Nick's not too hopeful on that one.]

I'm the one who arranged most of the patrol routes. He did most of the training. Recruiting, too.

[He certainly had the charisma for it, given how he absolutely oozed with chivalrous charm. People talked to him, and they wanted to help. What can Nick inspire them to do?

He sighs on his end. He's never set out to be an example, had put it off when he became co-commander... and now he has to lead. He's not sure how he feels about that.]

[Nate does flash a quick glance behind him before slipping inside, because while he doubts anyone actually followed him he knows that many of Hadriel's citizens can get bored in the downtime.]

Wouldn't be here if I had.

[He points out, taking in the empty room. He's been in plenty of desolate places so customarily occupied, so the somnolent quiet is more reassuring than eerie. It lends them privacy, at any rate. Turning back to face Nick he raises an eyebrow.]

But I think you knew that already.

[It is within Nick job description to size people up, after all.]

... Don't think so. ( She did find that calendar of his, but no plans. No one ever expects to go home, do they? Not after the amount of time people like Henry, or Nick, or even herself, have been here. )

Got some capable fighters for training. ( She's not so sure about the recruiting though. And, after a pause: ) ...Not Henry but he taught me the warbow.

( She doesn't mind helping out, if it comes to that, in other words. )

No one is gonna be Henry.

[He says that lightly, but it's a cold, hard truth.]

But if you can think of anyone who might help out, send them my way. We could use all the help we can get these days, especially with the islands being so spread out. And there's no telling what'll come in down the road.

( Doesn't she know it. She's been here for longer than she'd like and the only person who knew where she grew up, really, was Henry. It was a kind of bond she didn't have with anyone else. )

Will do.

( She might also find her way there more often than she usually does. Just maybe/ )

[ DiMA files those names away, though one is familiar to him already. ]

I've met Doctor Alphys, actually. Timid creature, but if she'd be willing to help I'd be very grateful. And perhaps if the resources were available, we could make you one as well? At the least, I should be able to transfer certain things for you to replay, as it were. So you would know I'm telling you the truth.

[ That's what it had taken last time -- Nick hadn't believed him until they'd recovered certain memories, until he'd heard for himself what had happened. But if he's asking about it now, has some knowledge of it already, DiMA will explain. ]

I assume you I'm real. The fight you're referring to was just after we escaped the Institute. Or rather, I broke you out. They were-- [ No, he doesn't have to go into that, the why of it. If Nick doesn't remember the horror of the experiments, it's better that way. ] --well. I couldn't watch you suffer anymore. But when we got out, you were so confused. You thought I was a monster, and attacked me.

The last thing I wanted was to hurt you, Nick. But I couldn't convince you of who I was, or who you were, and didn't exactly have a mirror... so I left you.

[Nick's not sure he likes that offer. When he'd learned about his limited memory, he'd considered trying to find a way to expand it, to make it so he couldn't possibly lose what he has up there -- or to at least retain more of it than he clearly has, if DiMA's existence is any indication of what he could possibly be missing. However, as the tempting as the idea of being able to pick and choose what he remembers may be, it makes those memories seem more like data than experiences, just files downloaded into lines and code, saved on some terminal the way he does with the Guard's records.

It makes him feel inhuman. He has enough of that as it is.

Still, he'll think on it. At least DiMA speaks well of Alphys. More importantly, what he says lines up with what fragments of memory are still floating around somewhere in his files: breaking out, him not knowing who DiMA was because of the Institute's experiments, a fight. It checks out with what Nick saw for himself when his mind was wired into Rey's, too -- someone who looks like him, who wanted to escape. Another prototype.

Nick gets why he wouldn't have believed DiMA back then. He didn't believe DiMA existed at all for a while. Hell, there was a time the gods stripped him of his memories and he didn't believe Rey when she told him he wasn't human, that he'd never really been a person. Given that he's stuck living some kind of composite life of a synthetic man and a cop who's been dead for a couple of hundred years, never knowing quite where the real Nick ends and he begins, it's no wonder he's all mixed up.

He could have reacted better then, could be reacting better now. Despite his utterly artificial appearance, DiMA sounds as sincere as it gets. That counts for more than he may ever know.]

I don't have much of a reason to not believe you. Like I said, all traces of what happened are mostly gone from my data banks. I had no idea what happened to you even if you did exist. For all I knew, I'd destroyed you right then and there, and had no memory left of it. And if that was the case, what else had I lost? Or done?

[Hence that whole thing where he thought he might have murdered his brother. He has to admit that he's relieved that didn't turn out to be what happened.]

[ For DiMA, it's more of a personal choice. Lose things at random, parts of himself and his experience that will be gone forever, or curate it. It's still a loss, but he prefers the element of control the memory banks provide. But then, he doesn't struggle with his nature. He's not human. That's simply fact, and not something he can change or hide, doesn't think he'd want to if he could. Nick's perspective is of course very different, and DiMA hopes that they can overcome that and find a way to relate like before. It may take time, but he's patient.

Ideally, they'd be able to keep all of their memories, indefinitely. But they'd need entirely new brains, to transfer themselves to minds with far larger storage capacity, and he doesn't know if that will ever be possible. DiMA isn't even particularly attached to this worn out old body, it would probably be dramatically easier to attempt a transfer to a whole new synth... something he's not willing to do. Either way, none of that is possible here. His focus is just on helping his brother through the shock of his presence, then perhaps asking around about waterproofing himself. Priorities. ]

I understand, Nick. If it would give you any peace, you may view mine, though if you believe me already I'd advise against it. It's not a pleasant memory, even if I chose not to offload it.

[ Some things, you just need to remember. However painful it was to leave Nick, he had refused to forget his brother. Managing his memory isn't about escaping pain, after all, though he did fall into that trap once. He hesitates, then, wondering how to approach his next point with kindness. ]

You're at a disadvantage regarding me so if you have any questions about our time apart, I'll answer whatever you want to know. But from what I've been told, you've been here a long time... people speak quite highly of you, and obviously I don't know what you've been up to. Would you be willing to catch up?

[Nick shakes his head at DiMA's offer to view his memories, though his desire to catch up piques his interest. He could ask a hundred things, at least a dozen coming to mind immediately. He considers inquiring about the Commonwealth, what it's like when DiMA is from. Some folks from their world made it sound the same as ever when they blew through town; however, Paladin Danse came from a time where things had taken a dark turn in favor of the Institute... and worse, Nick himself had been a part of it somehow, or so he'd implied. Hell, it was hard to tell what was the truth when their first meeting had been Danse knocking him to the ground, ready to tear him limb from limb for something he hadn't done --- and may never do, God willing.

But Danse is gone, and for all Nick knows, maybe he came from some strange, alternate time where everything goes to Hell in a handbasket -- as if it wasn't already there for most of the Commonwealth. Given the vast differences between the Boston of Nate's world and the Boston of his, it's not out of the question. More important is the here and now, and currently, Nick has the chance to get to know this brother who has been relegated to fragmented memories and dreams, images he couldn't access on his own even if he tried -- And Nick certainly has tried ever since learning of his existence.

He rubs at the back of his neck, his metal hand dulled to his synthetic skin. The rust has been hell on him.]

I think I'd like that.

[Think. He wants some time to really decide if he needs a brother in his life, family that some other version of his accepted in his place. He'd rather not be facing this kind of thing alone, but it's not like he has a choice currently. Still, getting to talk to another synth, one who is more like him than anyone else here -- in terms of construction and origin, at least -- is hard to pass up.

He starts heading for the back again, assuming DiMA will follow.]

I've been here two years now, nearly three. Long enough to find myself a place here. People.

[A family of his own.]

[ That's promising, at least. DiMA resumes following his brother into the back room, looking around curiously. What kind of a home Nick's made. ]

I'm glad you did, then. It seems like... well, everyone has been kind, after their initial surprise, and a hospitable young woman told me I was unlikely to face the kind of struggle we do back home. That people were fairly accepting of different species and natures. Have you found that to be true?

For the most part.

[He pushes the door to the back room open, and it immediately becomes apparent that this is the part of the building he's living in. What used to be an sizable office for the game room has become his personal quarters: there's a couch on one wall, and a desk on the opposite, one with a terminal very much like the ones they have back in the Commonwealth. The far end of the room has a bed along it, which might come across as an odd choice, given he doesn't have to sleep. The walls aren't exactly decorated, but they do feature an array of notes and charts, almost all pertaining to the Guard patrol routes. On a couple of nails above his desk is an unremarkable saber, something he uses to save on bullets. Closer to the door are a couple of sitting chairs, as well as a small table with a fishbowl in the center.

It's not much, but it's home for now. It's clear the moment they walk in that they're not alone -- the fish aside, there's a glow from under the bed where a single, vibrant eye watches the two of them.]

Save for the occasional odd look or question about whether or not I'm a feature of the city, most people don't think too much of it. Or they didn't until the Null came to town. Thankfully, I'd been around long enough by then that they knew where I stood. Took the gods longer to come around.

[With good reason.]

Frankly, we're not the most unusual residents here. Not the only mechanical ones, either.

[Nick doesn't seem offended by the question, but he does raise a brow, giving Atem a puzzled look.]

Why do you ask?

Thanks, Kate. I know you're tied up a lot at the Clinic, but I appreciate the help in times like these.

[Henry had some close connections, ones Nick hasn't managed himself. He has some pretty big shoes to fill. ]

You got any advice on how to get people to stop thinking we're the cops?

( She's got some good staff, ones who she trusts to cover for her. Ones who will have to, soon enough.

Nick asks that question and she almost laughs. Is that even possible? People here are incredibly stubborn, when they want to be. )

Open day?

( It's said as a joke, but her brain ticks as soon as the words leave her mouth. Actually... Maybe. )

Invite people to see the headquarters, things you do. That you're not hiding holdin' cells or anything. Doubt you'll convince everyone, ( Not as long as Hadriel keeps inviting the kind of people who would cause trouble for the other residents. ) but—

( Maybe some people. )

Couldn't hurt.

[Not that the HQ isn't already open to the public, but no one particularly wanders up there unless they're looking for the Guard. A little advertisement might go a long way.]

( Could anything short of actually building a prison hurt? The guard's rep has never been... stellar. )

Could also try combat classes. ( She's not sure about that, and it shows in her tone, but it lets people spend time with guard members, which might... do... something? )

💘 ic inbox for hadriel

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No one but us. :(

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(': ha... ha...

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It's all good! It just took me a million years to hit this up again. D:

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