[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.
[ 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?
[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.
[ Hey, even if he doesn't have to sleep, maybe he likes lying down? Technically DiMA has no specific need to sit but he does it anyway. So he won't question the furniture, and the Guard notes and weaponry make sense... really the only thing he pays specific attention to is the fish, and when he leans in to examine it more closely also notices the glowing eye under the bed. DiMA blinks, straightens up, and crosses over to whatever creature is hiding there instead. ]
Then I'm lucky to have arrived after you, and others of a mechanical nature, did the hard work for me.
[ What is under the bed..??? DiMA is still focused on the conversation, but is also offering skeletal fingers to whatever's there. ]
Oh? I've met a few mechanical folk already. Who would you say is more unusual?
[As DiMA entices the one-eyed creature under the bed, Nick straightens some of the papers on his desk, trying to busy himself and make the place just a little more hospitable. It's not a stifling distance he puts between himself and his presumed brother, but it's evident enough he's still gauging how to handle this whole situation, as well as deciding just how much of his life here he wants to offer up for scrutiny to this person who knows him from another time. How different is he from the Nick that DiMA knows? How have his experiences in Hadriel shaped him?
Nick could say loads about that, but maybe later.]
There's at least one fella here who is a genuine alien. Covered in ice, couldn't pass for anything even close to human in a million years. A good guy, though. That's what really matters.
[And speaking of unusual characters, a single, ratty paw lashes out at DiMA's fingers, batting them playfully before darting back under the bed.]
[ DiMA couldn't quite make an assessment of that yet, honestly, though Nick could ask. He's already noted several differences and mentioned the most striking one -- the fact that they're having this conversation so amicably in the first place. ]
An alien? Seems we really do get pulled in from all over, I met one who might call himself something similar as well. Though I'm sure your friend is... nicer.
[ Starscream was friendly enough to him, being mechanical, but there was an undercurrent of speciesism DiMA hadn't been certain how to navigate as a fellow newcomer. ]
Hopefully he'll come to understand that humans aren-- oh. [ ....kitty??? ] Hello there, little one.
[Nick glances DiMA's way as he interrupts himself, seeing how he's let his hand linger at the shadows under the bed.]
Is that where you've been hiding.
[That's more of a question than a statement, and one made to the cat rather than his guest. He digs through the draw at the front of his desk, pulling out a stick with feather and a toy mouse attached to it, passing it DiMA's way. The second the toy is out of the drawer, Tripod edges toward the light just a little bit more, the distinct of shape of a cat -- a one-eyed, three-legged cat who sets off internal Geiger counters with his presence, but a cat nonetheless -- visible at border of the shadow.]
The alien I'm talking about is out at sea right now, out with a group on a scavenger hunt for pieces of some artifact. You might see him around the water sometimes when he gets back. He's on the Guard with me, and keeps an eye out for anything lurking in the depths.
[ What's this his brother is passing him? DiMA accepts the stick, and while he might not have specific experience using cat toys it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how this one works. Especially since the creature under the bed is coming forward with its single glowing eye focused on the dangling mouse.
And so, a broken-down old robot is kneeling on the floor of Nick's room, wiggling a stick to make the toy on the end dance for his pet. With a hint of a smile on his face, even. ]
Here. Would you like to come out?
[ He wants to meet the kitty! But will keep up the more important conversation as well, of course. ]
I did hear about the expedition, yes. Perhaps I'll meet him when he returns. The individual I was referring to sounded quite disparaging about any species -- or perhaps even group with that, all the names he used were unknown to me -- besides his own. Still, polite enough.
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no subject
Date: 2018-10-04 09:06 am (UTC)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.]
no subject
Date: 2018-10-04 07:06 pm (UTC)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?
no subject
Date: 2018-10-05 12:43 am (UTC)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.]
no subject
Date: 2018-10-05 01:16 am (UTC)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?
no subject
Date: 2018-10-05 02:23 am (UTC)[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.
no subject
Date: 2018-10-21 03:08 am (UTC)Then I'm lucky to have arrived after you, and others of a mechanical nature, did the hard work for me.
[ What is under the bed..??? DiMA is still focused on the conversation, but is also offering skeletal fingers to whatever's there. ]
Oh? I've met a few mechanical folk already. Who would you say is more unusual?
no subject
Date: 2018-10-21 03:38 am (UTC)Nick could say loads about that, but maybe later.]
There's at least one fella here who is a genuine alien. Covered in ice, couldn't pass for anything even close to human in a million years. A good guy, though. That's what really matters.
[And speaking of unusual characters, a single, ratty paw lashes out at DiMA's fingers, batting them playfully before darting back under the bed.]
no subject
Date: 2018-10-21 05:06 am (UTC)An alien? Seems we really do get pulled in from all over, I met one who might call himself something similar as well. Though I'm sure your friend is... nicer.
[ Starscream was friendly enough to him, being mechanical, but there was an undercurrent of speciesism DiMA hadn't been certain how to navigate as a fellow newcomer. ]
Hopefully he'll come to understand that humans aren-- oh. [ ....kitty??? ] Hello there, little one.
no subject
Date: 2018-10-21 05:38 am (UTC)Is that where you've been hiding.
[That's more of a question than a statement, and one made to the cat rather than his guest. He digs through the draw at the front of his desk, pulling out a stick with feather and a toy mouse attached to it, passing it DiMA's way. The second the toy is out of the drawer, Tripod edges toward the light just a little bit more, the distinct of shape of a cat -- a one-eyed, three-legged cat who sets off internal Geiger counters with his presence, but a cat nonetheless -- visible at border of the shadow.]
The alien I'm talking about is out at sea right now, out with a group on a scavenger hunt for pieces of some artifact. You might see him around the water sometimes when he gets back. He's on the Guard with me, and keeps an eye out for anything lurking in the depths.
no subject
Date: 2018-10-26 09:39 pm (UTC)And so, a broken-down old robot is kneeling on the floor of Nick's room, wiggling a stick to make the toy on the end dance for his pet. With a hint of a smile on his face, even. ]
Here. Would you like to come out?
[ He wants to meet the kitty! But will keep up the more important conversation as well, of course. ]
I did hear about the expedition, yes. Perhaps I'll meet him when he returns. The individual I was referring to sounded quite disparaging about any species -- or perhaps even group with that, all the names he used were unknown to me -- besides his own. Still, polite enough.