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#falloutfiction
fictionkinfessions · 10 months
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if we had a nickel for every jewish guy in our system who was abducted, experimented on, and tortured by a thinly-veiled metaphor for antisemetic conspiracy theories, we’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice, aint it?
-nick valentine and bucky barnes (both fictives)
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fallout4treasures · 5 years
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Does anyone else ever feel compelled to rewrite the same fanfic from the perspective of different companion?
I'm writing a short story where Hancock finds someone with a head injury, and when she wakes up she can't remember anything.
(I know, been there done that. But I really don't care. Compassionate companiond keep my heart beating anyway)
I think I'm going to write again but with Danse and the Brotherhood. It would be a different aesthetic I think.
I'm too tired to be writing anything tonight. Let alone a blog post. Goodnight.
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fictionkinfessions · 10 months
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i had to lie to a dying kid once. he wasn’t actually, like, a child. maybe in his 20s or 30s i’d guess. but a pack of wild dogs had torn him up pretty bad, and i would’ve given him a stimpack and brought him to goodneighbor, or at least the gates of diamond city, but it didn’t have any on me. even if i had, it didn’t look like he was gonna make it. stims only do so much. so i told him i had buddies coming, gave him a double dose of med-x so he wouldn’t be in so much pain, and just sat with him. he was a good guy. a scavver. i wish i could remember his name.
(fallout, fictive)
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fictionkinfessions · 10 months
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i had all of the original nick valentine’s memories, including his death — though those files were zipped, encrypted, and partially corrupted. i understand other nicks who only feel like the man or the synth, but to me, there’s no real difference anymore. or, not one that matters, anyway. the synth was just a continuation of the original, and as time passed, the line blurred, and at some point there stopped being a distinction at all. i’m both. and, despite the corruption scares and trauma caused by the memory of actually dying, i’m. glad to have it, in a way. there’s a kind of closure in knowing what happened.
all that said, fuck the remaining mit scientists who experimented on me in the wake of the war, and fuck the institute. i hope you’re all rotting, and that includes “father” for trying to “reclaim” me like i was fucking property.
(fictive)
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fictionkinfessions · 11 months
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shoutout to my source for having — for the most part — a soundtrack of just banger after fucking banger. shame that puttin’ on the ritz didn’t make the cut, though. i remember whitechapel charlie played it a decent amount down at the third rail when nobody was performing.
(what was a synth who couldn’t eat or drink doing in a bar, you might ask? well, nunya. /lh)
-nick valentine (fictive)
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fictionkinfessions · 2 years
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Every time we eat something ive never had before its great because im just like. Woah this is so much better than vault and wasteland food (i am still going insane over tortellini. best thing to exist ever)
And then everyone stares at me in shock like im a talking tree because i said i ate something like. Radroach or whatever
- A very excited over pre-war(s) america Lone Wanderer fictive
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fictionkinfessions · 1 year
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if i had a dollar for each time we got a fallout 2 and/or 3 fictive, i would have 2 dollars. which isnt alot but its weird it happened twice right!!!!!!!!! /reference
(this is for that one ask game)
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fallout4treasures · 5 years
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What’s Worth Fighting For - Ch 1
“Then why are you going?” Ellie asked, standing and following me as I headed towards the door.
“I need his help. And he’s not doing anyone any good gone.”
“You must be pretty desperate. It’s not often Nick can’t save himself.”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
Wayfaring Stranger - Johnny Cash
You’re looking for a man. He can help you. But he ain’t gonna be the man you expect. I’m ashamed to say my fear and rage was leading me back then. Giving an old lady chems seemed so small compared to what I was looking for. Her visions were all I had to go on, and nothing was more important than finding Shaun. I’ve tried to make myself regret it, to let the guilt weigh on me, but I can’t. It led me to the truth. More importantly, it led me to Nick.
I always thought this story started in the Vault. With the death of my old self, and everything I knew. Watching my world, along with the people in it, disappear in a blink of an eye had sparked enough vengeance in me to fuel a war. It should have been enough to be the main plot. Not that it was small, but I guess I’m a sucker for a nice guy with a broken soul. Either way, it turns out this story actually starts at the ballpark. But you should know before you start, in case you hadn't picked up on it already, this was never supposed to be a love story.
The crash of glass filled my ears, pulling me from my deep sleep and sending me sitting straight up. I grabbed my gun from the nightstand and had it readied on the door, taking short and shallow breaths as my brain caught up to my actions. My heart thumped in my ears, with sweat already building at my brow. The shatter was followed by boisterous yelling coated in accents too thick and angry for me to decipher through the wall, but from what I could tell it was only the innkeeper brothers quarrelling.
The air I was holding in my lungs released as did the tension in myself. I let the firearm lay in my lap as I held my face in my hands, counting the seconds as my breathing brought my pulse back down to a regular rate.
I was still grateful the shock woke me. The images from my nightmares were quickly blurring together to the point that they were unrecognizable. If I had to experience them while I slept, at least I couldn’t remember them when I woke up.
My shoulders refused to relax as I rolled out of bed. In fact, my whole body ached from my journey the night before. I should have taken the nearly day’s walk from Sanctuary to Boston more seriously. But it wasn’t the first time I did something stupidly impulsive for the sake of the mission. Certainly wouldn’t be the last.
Ready to leave the musty smell of my rented room behind me, I hoisted my leather armor over my shoulders and fumbled with the buckles as my sweaty fingers continued to tremble. It must have taken me five full minutes to get everything strapped on. And once it was I started to sweat even more, the leather feeling as if it was constricting around me.
Everything about this world, and the anxieties it stirred in me, felt so foreign. It had only been a handful of days since I had unfroze, yet it felt like I had lived weeks in this wasteland already. Time had its own mind here, with every moment full of either danger or needed rest. There was no telling how it would move next.
My days used to start so slow and sweet. Usually with Nate’s warm voice telling me that Shaun was crying. He’d bring him in from the nursery and we’d snuggle around him in bed. Just staring as our son babbled and cooed at us. Listening to the radio, sipping at the coffee on the nightstand. The sun would start to rise and we’d get up with it.
I wish I had wanted it more then. I wish we had begged the sun to stay low just a bit longer. To keep the moment stretched on, and our son beside us. Even if just for a little while. Safe, warm, perfect.
The bittersweet memories stung my chest, causing tears to well up. I quickly pushed them out of my head, but was still left a tired, jittery mess. Unfortunately, this was my morning routine. Battling the visions mixed from the past, present, and my nightmares. At this point, it seemed only one thing could calm my nerves.
“Ah, Viv! Our newest patron. You finally woke up.” The bartender bellowed out with a laugh the moment he saw me dragging myself from the hall of rooms to the bar.
“Good morning, Vadim.” I offered him half a smile as my arms fell to the counter.
“I am sorry about the fighting. My brother and I don’t always see eye to eye… Eh, are you okay? You're as white as a sheet.”
“I’m fine.” I waved him off before pressing my eyes into my palms. “Just looking for something strong.”
“No problem, what’s your drink?”
“Bourbon.” With a stiff nod he grabbed the shot glass from underneath the bar and the liquor with it. The quiet splash of brown liquid made crave the drink even more. I snatched it from its surface and threw it back without bothering to taste it. My face twisted as it burned the whole way down, but the warmth quickly took over and calmed my nerves. “Thanks.” I pulled out the small bunch of caps I had in my front pocket and counted out the payment, plus a couple extra for him.
“Will you be back tonight?” Vadim asked, pocketing the caps.
“Depends on how my day goes.” I gave him a short wave before leaving the grimey, makeshift inn.
The Diamond City I was walking through that morning was much different than the night before. It reminded me of the last ball game we went to. It was right before Shaun was born and Nate surprised me with tickets right behind home plate. Not too far from where I was standing actually, just two hundred years earlier. Who knew a baseball field was big enough for a whole city? If you could call it a city. Smashing a few dozen or so metal shacks inside a ballpark wouldn’t have fit my qualifications before we went under. But so far this was the closest thing I had seen that felt like home. The houses and businesses formed a bull’s eye around the stadium with the Power Noodles bar dotting the center. The Dugout Inn where I was staying was tucked away in an alley towards the city gates and to start exploring I ventured back toward where I had started last night.
“Read all about it! Institute replaces people with machines! Are you next?” A young girl with short, wriley, dark hair announced from her podium. “Hey lady!" Her short arms wildly waved me over, her long skirt flouncing a bit around her pants as she bounced. "You're new, right? All newcomers get their first issue free." She extended the flyer out to me.
"How could you tell?"
"My sister told me to look out for a doe eyed misfit.”
“I am not doe eyed.” I huffed, taking the flyer. I made a face at the girl as she smirked at me. “I’m guessing you’re Piper’s little sister?”
“Most people call me Nat.”
"Most people call me Viv…” I let my eyes fall to the paper, wandering the article aimlessly. It started to catch my attention when a name stuck out to me. “What's the Institute?” I asked her.
“You don’t know about the Institute? Oh, man... ” She rolled her eyes at me. I narrowed mine in return at her. “They snatch people up and replace you with robots." She sighed.
“Do people disappear a lot?”
“How would I know? They look just like us.” She retorted with an eyeroll. I let out a breath, trying to keep my patience.
“You’re a smart kid. I’m sure you know someone who does know.” She pondered this for a moment before shrugging her shoulders.
“I guess, you’d have to ask the detective, Mr. Valentine. He’s the only one to go to if someone’s gone missing."
“Oh yeah? Where’s he at?”
“Probably his office. It’s down that alley. There’s a sign at the end that shows the way.”
“Hey, thanks kid.”
“Remember what I said about the Institute! You can’t trust anyone.” She called after me as I walked. I waved goodbye and heard Nat muttering under her breath as I walked away. “Give her ten days… max.” I couldn’t help but laugh at this. She gave me three more days than I had given myself.
I followed her directions to the agency, quickly finding the glowing detective sign pointing me to the covered alleyway. Even in the daylight the pink neon ‘Valentine Detective Agency’ sign seemed like it was the only thing lighting the way. A heart shot by an arrow glowed behind the lettering with another arrow pointing towards the dark and narrow corridor leading towards the entrance. Passing the light, I couldn’t help but hear the fortune teller’s words in my mind.
You find that heart that's gonna lead you to your boy. Oh, it's... it's bright. So bright against the dark alleys it walks.  Maybe feeding that crazy old lady drugs was worth it after all. I should have written everything she said down, I thought to myself.
The metal door creaked open, and I was sure I would have alerted anyone inside. It was a simple box-y metal and concrete office, but was filled completely with files, papers, and other miscellaneous items that I could only guess were clues to cases. Off to the right, behind me, was a short hall that led to what I assumed were living quarters. Despite the cold look it gave, the agency felt warm and inviting. Across the room young lady in a flowy dress and dark jacket was rifling through files, completely oblivious to me intruding.
“The bills… Oh, forget the bills.” She sighed, mournfully muttering to herself. I decided to make my presence known, and finished walking inside, closing the door with a light slam. I figured I would have startled her but she kept her back towards me, continuing away with her work.
“Hello?” I finally spoke up.
“We're closed.” She told me over her shoulder. My eyebrows knitted together in frustration.
"I don't want to be rude but is Mr. Valentine here? It’s important."
"I’m sorry, the detective's gone." My heart felt like it missed a beat. I couldn’t have gone all this way to be led to a dead end.
"Gone? Gone where?" I asked. She turned to face me, her dress flouncing around her legs. "He was working a case. Skinny Malone's gang kidnapped a young woman and he tracked them down to an old subway station. I told him that it didn't feel right. But he just smiled and walked out like he always does… always did.” As sad as she sounded I couldn’t help but let out a silent sigh of relief. As long as he was alive he could help me find Shaun. It was just a matter of getting to him.
“Couldn’t he still come back?”
“He’s gotten himself into trouble before, but he’s never been gone this long. I never thought the day would actually come where he didn’t come back.”
“No one’s tried to get him?” I asked.
“Who do you send to find the man who finds everyone else?” She walked over to the desk in front of me and sat down in the armchair. Her face was fallen with defeat. I let out a long sigh, realizing I was about to make another stupid, and possibly fatal, decision.
“What’s your name?” I asked her, pulling the bag off my back. I dug around, counting my ammo boxes. After a quick stop at the gun stand in the market I would be set.
“Ellie.” She dried her tears, quickly composing herself.
“Where did you say he went, Ellie?”
“Park Street Station, it’s an old pre-war ruin. Skinny and his gang took it over.”
“Okay, great. I actually remember where that is.” I flung the bag back on my shoulder.
“You’re not actually going after him.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“No, you just... you don’t strike me as the fighting type.”
“I’m not really.”
“Then why are you going?” Ellie asked, standing and following me as I headed towards the door.
“I need his help. And he’s not doing anyone any good gone.”
“You must be pretty desperate. It’s not often Nick can’t save himself.”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
--
My legs were on fire by the time I had reached the Boston common. I had been able to get away with only running across some ghouls and a few rogue raiders before reaching this point, but I was still high on my guard.
Plywood signs along the metal fencing warned me not to wander inside the common’s park. Lucky for me, the hub was just on the edge and no where near the center. The buzz of anxiety kept me on my toes as I made one last mad dash for the station’s doors. The pops and cracks of battle echoed in the distance before they were muted by the heavy metal door shutting behind me. I would usually find this comforting, but there was plenty of danger waiting for me deeper underground.
The temperature fell as I descended down the broken escalator. I could hear talking coming from the next room. I hid behind the doorway, listening in and trying to get an idea of what I was dealing with.
“He’s weak, I’m tellin’ ya. That detective comes snooping around, and what does he do? Just keeps him locked up. He don’t even got the balls to ice some nobody.”
“Keep that shit to yourself. His new girl hears ya and she’ll start swinging that bat of hers until we don’t have no face left.” I could hear them walking and talking through the nearly empty lobby. A few more were lingering around. I didn’t think I would be able to shoot it out. I figured  it was time to improvise.
I pulled my pack around to rifle through the junk I had collected until I found a ragged stuffed bunny that I had found in Concord. It was hardly big enough, but it would work. I pulled the seam that ran down its back apart and tossed the stuffing onto the aged tile until it’s torso was hollow. The empty cavity ended up being the perfect bed for a grenade. There was barely enough room to cover the explosive with some of the fluff to seal it in with only the pin being visible. I gave myself a nod of satisfaction. It would do.
I grabbed a couple of caps from my pocket and took a short peak around the corner to get a look. Most of the men were dressed in sharp suits, and some even completed the ensemble with a worn fedora. Most of them carried guns longer than my arm, and probably a lot more experience than I did.  
The first cap was grasped in my hand, ready to fly. The metal clanged against the tile. I patiently listened as footsteps approached it. Another toss and the other cap rattle nearby the other.
“H-hey, check this out! Caps keep falling from the ceiling.” One of them called to the others. I was relieved to hear the other footsteps lumber over to the commotion.
“What the hell are you talking about?” My heart raced as they babbled on. My fingers sweated over the circle pin, waiting for the right moment to pull.
“They keep dropping down! Two of them! Look!”
“You’re hitting the chems too hard, bud.” A different voice chimed in.
“I haven’t even had that much! I’m serious!” The grenade clicked after losing its pin. One last good toss and I heard the soft thud of the toy. I covered my ears and braced myself behind the wall.
“What the-” BOOM!
It felt like minutes before I moved. I waited and waited for some sort of response or movement but nothing came. Slowly I stood and entered the now destroyed terminal. The air was heavy with the smell of blood and explosives. Like some sort of crude firework. There wasn’t much that could be recognized, other than the occasional burned cap. I figured it would still spend as I went around collecting them. I came upon the blue scrap of the bunny’s ear, left charred and frayed as I finished up.
“Thanks for your sacrifice, little buddy.” I gave it a small solute before moving deeper into the station.
I wasn’t nearly as lucky down by the tracks. I had to carefully sidestep a few mines as I made my way down. I stopped once the open area became visible. There were around a dozen or so triggermen. I had to be fast, precise, and alert. All things I did not feel confident in. My desperation had led me this far, though. Who’s to say it would fail me now?
I pulled out my pistol, checking the ammo before aiming directly at the back of their head. My finger trembled over the trigger, unable to let go of the fact that this would be the first gunfight that was initiated by me. I gave myself a moment to focus, taking slow breaths to balance my hand. Finally, I pulled the trigger. The first man flopped to the floor with the bang of my gun. Before someone had time to react I quickly aimed at the next one. My arm cuff was grazed as the other mobsters started to react. I ducked my head down as a swarm of bullets flew towards me. A break in the assault let me grab another glimpse of the tracks, and another head shot. It went on like that for awhile until the room finally fell quiet. The air held an unsettling feeling, keeping me frozen in my spot. I shut my eyes and waited for a noise. After several seconds there was a soft shuffle and footsteps. Just one set, but I could hear him closing in on me. He was creeping closer to the wall that protected me. I counted to three, held my breath, and popped up from behind the barrier. Before he could lift up his own gun my bullet flew through his chest.
I tried not to count the bodies as I passed them. I wasn’t close to ready to start processing the amount of damage I had caused. I followed the tracks, and was pleasantly surprised with the lack of security. I was able to stroll through the tunnels, their echoing silence bringing me some peace. Until I reached the last stop anyhow. I could see the tunnels had collapsed on the other side of the room. I slowed my pace and peaked around the tunnel opening. The coast seemed clear enough so I decided to continue on. I thought I was moving silently as I tried to sneak onto the platform.
“Hey! There’s someone here!” I heard a man call out from behind a pillar.
“Shit.” I muttered to myself.
“She’s here for the detective! Don’t let her-” With the pop of my gun I silenced the first goon, and the other dropped shortly after as he stumbled after him.
After a couple more skirmishes I found myself in an unfinished part of the station. Dirt and rock made up the floors, walls, and ceilings. The room was cluttered with boxes and construction equipment. As I ventured in a vault entrance came into view, sitting high on the wall with metal stairs leading up to it.
“A vault. Of course, he ended up in a vault.” Grumbling to myself I hooked my pip boy up to the panel, and pushed the button to open the door. The yellow lights circled as the vault hissed and groaned. The large gear shaped door sunk deeper into the earth before rolling off to the side. The metal bridge stretched out to meet the platform I was on. The familiar hollow step of my boot against the steel echoed as made my first steps in. It opened up to a small room, filled with storage containers. Off to the left was a small hallway, leading deeper inside the vault.
“Who the hell keeps opening the damn vault? Can’t hear myself think.” Someone called from the hall. “Skinny? Darla? S’that you?” The moment he came into view I fired. He cried out and with a limp arm he still attempted to aim his gun at me. Another shot and he was on the ground.
“Are you all this stupid?” I asked his body as I stepped over it.
The further I went into the vault the more the rooms started to blur together. I lost track of how many levels I had gone down, and of how many triggerman I had to put down. I was already desperate to get out of that stupid maze.
The last door opened to the second floor of the atrium. Below tables were sprawled out like a cafeteria. On the other side of the room, on the third level, a balcony overlooked the hall with a large circle window showing the office behind it. Yet another gangster stood in front of it, looking and talking to someone through the glass.
“How ya doin’, Valentine? Ya hungry, wanna snack?” He teased his prisoner. I let out a quiet sigh of relief. I found him. At least I could say I got this far. I could hardly hear the murmur behind the glass, but the words became more clear as I lurked closer to the stairs leading to the upper floor.
“...gives Malone more time to figure out how he’s going to bump you off.” The detective’s voice finally became clear as I reached the stairs, taking each step slowly enough to keep my boots from rattling against the metal.
“Don’t give me that crap. You don’t know nothing.”
“Oh really? I saw him write your name in that black book of his. Mumbling something about a ‘no-good, lousy, card shark’. Then he struck it off three times.”
“Three times? That’s not funny.” The guard itched around where he stood, obviously troubled by what the other man was saying. Once on the higher platform I hid before the doorway leading to the balcony.
“Gotta guilty conscious, Dino?”
“Shit… I gotta fix this, fast!” Dino was in such a rush that he blew right passed me squatting in the corner without noticing me. Another shot rang out through the atrium, as did the thud of his body.
“What was that? Who’s there?” The detective called out once the echo finished. I followed the voice to the window, only seeing a shadowy figure inside the office. “It’s not going to take long for them to realize he’s not coming back. Get that door open.” He gestured towards the terminal at the end of the balcony. It all seemed to happen so fast then, so meaningless. Even with Mama Murphy’s visions I had no idea I would be walking into a moment that had been written into fate a long time before then.
The door opened and I strolled inside the dark office, ready to grab him and bolt. The glow of his yellow eyes pierced through my thoughts, leaving all of my previous thoughts behind.
“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario.” He commented. With a flick of his metal wrist he fired up a match to light the cigarette hanging from his mouth. The flame that was brought to his face gave the first glimpse of the exposed framing beneath his cheek. “Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?” His voice struck a chord in me, somewhere that I thought was dead.
“Would you rather stay here?” I asked. He raised an eyebrow at me. Taking a drag of his cigarette he stepped forward into the light, giving me a better look at him. His synthetic grey skin had definitely been through plenty through his years in the Commonwealth. Despite his experience even his subtle smile felt warm to me.  
“No, but you’ll have to forgive me if I’m wary of walking into another trap.” He retorted. I conceited with a nod.
“I need your help. But, I’m a lot better at explaining when I’m not in an old vault surrounded by blood-lusted mobsters.”
“Fair enough.” He pulled his pistol from his holster and readied it. “Well, what’s your name?”
“Viv.”
“Just Viv?”
“Vivian-...” I hesitated, suddenly unsure if surnames were even used anymore. Judging by his inquisitive stare he was waiting to hear mine. “Becker.”
“Great, I’m Nick… Valentine.” His lips curled into a cheeky smile behind his cigarette. “I’m actually able to say I’m pleased to meet you. Although, I probably would have been pleased with anyone who rescued me from this place.”
“I’m flattered.”
“You should be. Not many people would have been able to get to me. I’ve been stuck
down here for weeks. Turns out the kidnapped girl I was trying to rescue wasn’t kidnapped at all. She’s Skinny’s new flame, and she’s got a mean streak.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
I let him lead us back out into the atrium. He seemed to know his way, and I was done figuring this maze out. I was happy to mindlessly follow after days of strategically planned movements.
I never imagined how much easier getting through a small army of mobsters would be with a partner. We blew through rooms as if we had trained together before. I could almost let my guard down. Even so, the vault went on for ages. We would think we were close, only to find another staircase leading up closer to the surface. Finally, after what felt like dozens of goons and staircases we finally made it to the final locked door.
“Do you think he’s in there?” I asked him as he went to work the terminal that held the door shut. “He could have run off.”
“No, he’s there. I can hear his fat footsteps from here” Nick murmured as he typed away. I was fascinated with the way his fingers moved, specifically the exposed metal ones, moved. Fluidly, and with intention, despite the fact that they were controlled by a computer themselves. “I’m not really sure where Skinny’s temper is these days. Stay alert in there.” He broke me from my thoughts. My heart thunked in my chest so loud I could feel the ripple in my entire body, the beat hammering in my ears. It was moments like these that I completely forgot why I was there. I wasn’t a soldier, that was my husband’s job.
“Ready?” He asked, cocking his gun.
“Ready.” I lied.
The door opened with a hiss. The next room’s light only illuminated Nick’s captors and what was left of their crew.
“Nicky, what do you think you’re doing?” A portly man in a sharp, black tuxedo called from inside the room.“You just come in to my home and start killing my guys? How could you do this to me?” Next to him a tiny porcelain doll of a woman with a shimmering, cool colored, dress wielded a baseball bat. They both watched with a smirk as the remaining triggerman aimed their weapons at us when we approached.
“You should tell that dame of yours to write home more often. I wouldn’t be here if her parents weren’t looking for her.” Nick said. I could see the detective nervously eyeing the room after he spoke. We were surrounded, and I was suddenly very aware of the large amount of sweat I was producing.
“What’s the matter, Valentine? Ashamed you got beat up by a girl? That why you needed your lady friend to come save you?” The woman cackled, her bright red lips stretching across her face. Her nearly flawless features should have stunned me, but I couldn’t get over the crazed look in her eyes. Even when she wasn’t looking at me I could feel her stare. “I told you, we should have just killed him! Now he’s sent this one to rub us all out.” She hissed. “Darla, I’m handling this!” Skinny scolded. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, tucking the bat into the crook of her elbow.
“Sure, you’re handling it. Look how that turned out. You got all sentimental. All that stupid crap about the ‘old times’.”
“Darla, please!”
There’s… an echo. I found Mama Murphy’s words rolling around in my head again. I tried to push them away, staying on alert, but they forced their way in. Something in the past that can help you. When you meet the fat man and the angry woman… It finally clicked with me. I couldn’t believe that drug addicted, old, broad really wasn’t crazy.
“W-wait!” I was only half-expecting anyone to hear me, but as I spoke everyone’s eyes turned to me at once. My heart kicked into a new level of overdrive that I didn’t even think was possible. “Skinny… remember- remember the Quarry, a-and Lilly June on the rocks.” I couldn’t even hear myself speak. Everyone, including Nick, just stared in silence. Did I screw it up? Did I even say anything? Was I already dead?
“What?” The mob boss finally spoke, dumbfounded as his arms, and his weapon, dropped to his side.
“Um… remember the-”
“Shut up, I heard you.” He stopped me with a wave of his fat hand. His brow furrowed in thought, scratching at his face as the two brain cells he had bickered back and forth inside his head. Nick shot a look at me, silently asking what the hell I was thinking. I gave him a short shrug, not letting my eyes leave Skinny’s hands. The second they even twitch towards his gun and I would be ready. “Alright. Alright, fine. I’m going to give you ‘til the count of ten. After that then the old days are dead, and I see your faces again then you will be too.”
“Skinny, what are you doing? Kill them!” Darla shrilled, stomping her feet around like a spoiled child.
“No, Darla. Skinny Malone is putting his foot down. They get one chance to leave.” Darla’s face twisted with disgust. Her wooden bat clamored on the tile as she tossed it aside.
“My mother was right. You mobsters are all talk.” Without missing a beat, she turned on her heel and started walking into the shadows behind them.
“Babe, where you goin’?”
“Home. I don’t need you and your fat ass weighing me down anymore.” She called behind her shoulder as she sauntered out the back. The boss watched with his jaw left open, his head following her until she disappeared. He whipped around to face us, his eyes wide with pain and frustration.
“ONE.” Skinny growled through clenched teeth. His sausage fingers gripping his gun as he aimed it at us.
“Time to go.” Nick grabbed my hand and pulled me passed the small crowd to the back.
“TWO.” Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see how the far side of the room was cluttered with totes and boxes. It led to a wide hallway that led us further away from the scene but you could still hear the mobster’s voice booming behind us.
“THREE… FOUR… FIVE.” I could tell the boss was getting impatient as he sped up the countdown. “SIX.”
“This way, there’s a tunnel. It’s how I got in.” Sure enough, almost tucked away in the corner, was a ladder heading straight for the surface.
“SEVEN.” The stomps of boots started to approach as we clamored up the metal rods. At the top was a stone sewer cap. I struggled to push it open, hooking my leg around the ladder for balance as I used my whole upper body to shove the thing open.
“EIGHT.” Fresh air cascaded from above as the cap moved aside. I crawled out from the sewer hole and simply rolled aside so the detective could follow.
‘NINE.” I heard the last of Skinny Malone’s voice as Nick sealed the cap once again.
“Jeez, you’d think an old-school mobster who just got his heart stomped on would be more forgiving.” I chortled, staring up at the night’s sky. Nick gave a surprised chuckle. I could feel his eyes on me but it was easy to tune it out this time. Laying on the asphalt I let the crisp breeze relieve my body of its sticky sweat. I focused on my breathing, the rise and fall of my stomach. I was actually alive. “That was quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Saving me?” I nodded, and he laughed again. “You mind telling me why you did? Or who you are?”
“I told you who I am.”
“Oh, c’mon.” I couldn’t help but giggle again at his frustration. I finally sat up, leaning back onto the palms of my hands.
“I went to your agency and your secretary said you were missing. You weren’t around to save yourself so I told her I would.”
“Okay, but why?” I curled my legs in to sit criss-cross, struggling to find the right words.
“I need your help… I’m looking for someone.” I picked at the skin around my finger nails, but kept eye contact with him as I spoke. He extended his metal hand out to help me up.
“Well, I’d say you’ve earned the right to tell your story.” Once I was back on my feet I brushed some of the dirt of pebbles off of my hands and jeans. “Let’s head back to my office. You can get a chance to unload your mind.” He said it like it was a good thing. The idea of voluntarily remembering what happened sent a spike of anxiety through my whole body. We had a decent walk back though. Plenty of time to think of ways to put it off.
It turns out Nick was an excellent travelling companion. Usually I enjoyed the still silence but listening to his stories of ‘the old days’ was both intriguing and hilarious. He talked about the cat and mouse chase that ensued between him and his old friend, Skinny Malone. There was something familiar about listening to him. Somehow it felt like a little window to before the blast. Even though he was recalling memories that had only happened some years before then, it felt like he was talking about the streets of Boston as it was two-hundred years ago.
The strangest mixture of dread and relief washed over me once we made it back to Diamond City. I almost got myself killed trying to get to this point, and yet part of me wished it had killed me. It sounded better than reliving what happened.
The town was silent under the midnight stars, so different from how I had left it. The occasional guard popping out from the shadows to patrol the market. Walking through, we would grab their attention but I noticed once they saw Nick they weren’t bothered with us anymore.
Back at the agency, the detective stepped in tentatively, I’m sure not to startle his secretary who was most likely sleeping.
“El, you here?”
“Nick?” I watched him smile as there was a sudden shuffle of footsteps from the private quarters. He silently invited me in, shutting the door behind us. Ellie came running in from the hall, her eyes obviously sleepless. “Oh my god, you’re alive. You’re actually here.”
“Try not to be too disappointed.” Nick said with a smirk. She ran over and embraced him, and he accepted it warmly. He gave her head a fond pat after breaking their hug. I noticed the tiny tears that had formed in her eyes. She wiped them away before they had the chance to fall. Suddenly her face turned into a scowl as she crossly set her hands on her hips.
“I told you it was a trap. You could have died.”
“A trap would mean they knew I was coming. They just got a lucky shot.” They bickered like that for awhile. In the meantime I let my bag fall off my back and onto the ground. I plopped onto a nearby chair, that had definitely seen better days. It was still a relief for the throbbing soles of my feet.
At first I tried to follow their conversation, but my brain would start to phase the sound away and replace it with emptiness. A quiet nothing feeling embraced me, where the only thing that was being processed was the sight of the robot moving from one paper stack to the next.
At some point Ellie stopped and pulled me from my trance to thank me and I believe I responded politely. She disappeared to bed some time after that, but I didn’t notice. I was back in my disassociation, my eyes only tracking the little movement in the room.
The flow of Nick’s patched trench coat. A scratch on the back of his neck. I wasn’t sure if I was even awake anymore. It was oddly satisfying, like meditating specifically on the moment.
“You’re staring.” The detective’s voice rang in my head before I realized he was actually speaking to me. He had sat down at the desk in front of me, and pulled a screwdriver from one of the drawers. “Have you ever met a synth before?” He asked as he started fiddling with some of the screws in his exposed hand.
"Oh, uh… no, but that’s not- uh…” I attempted to rub the sand out of my eyes but it was useless. I dropped my hands into my lap and sighed as I looked back at him. “Sorry. I'm just tired. I should head over to the Dugout and let you settle in. We can meet up in the morning." When I rose from the chair it felt as if I had spent all day there. Every joint in my body ached, begging for a proper rest.
"You could. Or you could use my bed tonight if you want." His statement actually woke me a bit from my state.
"You want me to sleep in your bed?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"You don't have to. I don’t sleep so it’s not like I use it. I figured it would save you a few caps, and I thought I'd offer since you saved my life and all." I gave a soft laugh. The idea of walking just a few steps to a bed, as opposed to across the diamond, did sound appealing to me.
"You don't even know me. I could be some sort of con artist."
"I'll have to keep a close eye on you then, won't I?"
His bed, bedroom area, was up on a loft above Ellie’s. I climbed up the ladder quietly as she slept. My leather armor was shed to the floor, along with my blue flannel overshirt and heavy brown boots. I crawled onto the mattress and curled up happily under the light blanket. I don’t even remember closing my eyes. My mind just drifted back into the peaceful blackness.
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fallout4treasures · 5 years
Text
What’s Worth Fighting For - Prologue
He couldn’t help but notice the crowd of onlooking bar flies elbowing their buddies to send their attention over to the good-doer synth who seemed to be cozying up to the pretty, young, call girl. It didn’t seem to phase her at all, leaning back into her seat comfortably. "Well, Nick the detective. We're on your time now. What's on your mind?"
((Note From Author: The Prologue is a third person view of Nick Valentine set a couple weeks before we meet the heroine. Also, I title chapters with songs. Enjoy!))
I’m the One You’re Looking For - John Jarvis, Kerry Marx, & Lynda Carter
The detective ran inside the old subway station, escaping the cold rain that was assaulting his back. Tipping his hat to the bouncer before shaking the rain off his trench coat.
“Hey, Ham.”
“Good to see ya, Valentine. Enjoy yourself down there.” The sharply dressed ghoul tipped his hat to the other. Nick followed the soft sound of piano and song, mingled with laughter and the clinking of glasses down the stairs. Once he was in the club, he saw the low lights cast shadows on the couple of slow dancing figures as Magnolia crooned in the corner. Once he found a table he took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Taking a small scan of the room, he noticed he had caught the attention of a young lady across the room. Her dress slinked around what little curves she held. She couldn’t have been older than twenty. She was stunning, he thought to himself, but haggard.  He kept her in the corner of his eye, watching her saunter over as he lit his cigarette. She held a sensual smile, leaning against a nearby wall.
“Hey, there." Her velvet voice raised an eyebrow from him. He turned his head towards her, unsure of how to proceed.
"Evening."
"Cold night like this, bet it makes a handsome guy like you pretty lonely."
"More than you know." He huffed out a small laugh. She closed the distance between them and placed a delicate hand on his arm. Her graying fingers were almost as bony as his own metal hand.
"I can keep you warm. All it'll cost you is a few caps or chems."
“Oh, I doubt it would do me any good.”
“You’ve never had me before.” He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side, not able to directly disagree with her.
“I’m afraid no one’s that good.” Her hand fell to her side with her smile mirroring. Her focus was quickly moving on to her next prospect. “I’ve never seen you around here before. What’s your name?”
“Sorry, sweetie, I don't chat for free.” She locked onto a couple of regulars, sloshing their drinks around and laughing until their faces burned scarlet. She was ready to make her entrance when Nick side stepped in front of her.
“How much to learn your name?’ He asked.
“What?” She stopped in her tracks, staring at his in bewilderment.
“Four? Five?” The detective pulled out a small leather bag, pulling the drawstring open and showing the caps. She blinked a few times to calibrate before crossing her arms in curiosity.
“... Ten.”
“Ten caps?” He scoffed as he counted the money carefully and handed it over to her. “Better be a hell of a name… So?”
“Felicity.”
“Huh…” His face perked up in surprise, taking another drag of his cigarette as he slowly nodded. “That’s a pretty good name… Almost worth the money.” She almost gave a genuine smile as she snorted.
“So, what about you? Are you like Bot-267 or-”
“Nick is fine." He shot a look at her that earned him a smirk.
"Hm,” She hummed to herself. “Nick the synth."
"Nick the detective."
"Oh, so you solve crimes?"
"I find missing people.”
“Oh.” He furrowed his eyebrows at her as any intrigue she had in their conversation fell away. Her arms tightened, fighting the emotions that were bubbling in her chest.
“Are you from around here?" He tried to grab her attention but her mind was back on the men at the bar, wondering how quickly she could convince one of them to pay for a room at the Rexford so she didn’t have to find a spot outside.
"Nope."
"I didn’t think so. Did you-"
"Okay, Nick? You seem nice. But you're going to scare away clients, and I’m trying to make a living here, so beat it." Nick couldn’t help but pretend to act partly offended. He was slightly put off when she didn’t even so much as glance back at him, so he pulled his pouch out once more.
"How much for twenty minutes?" He asked, waiting patiently to count out the money. She rolled her eyes, reluctantly looking at him once more.
"For what?" She sighed.
"To talk."
"Talk?" The young woman laughed out loud, shaking her head in amusement. “Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Nope. How much?” The detective gave a cheeky smile that she couldn’t help but reciprocate.
"Thirty… and a cigarette."
"I’d hate to think what you charge for the night.” He said as he pulled a pack of smokes from his coat pocket.
"Haven’t heard any complaints." She gestured for him to sit and settled in across from him. He handed over the caps, as well as a cigarette, lighting it for her before settling into the wooden chair. He couldn’t help but notice the crowd of onlooking bar flies elbowing their buddies to send their attention over to the good-doer synth who seemed to be cozying up to the pretty, young, call girl. It didn’t seem to phase her at all, leaning back into her seat comfortably. "Well, Nick the detective. We're on your time now. What's on your mind?"
"Why don't we start with you?”
“Um, alright...” She shifted forward, with a perplexed look coming across her.
“Tell me about yourself.” A wave of his hand encouraged her to start. She paused before she could answer, unsure of how much to say.
“What do you want to know?” She asked. His shoulders shrugged as he pondered casually.
"Where did you grow up?"
"Here in the Commonwealth. It's the same old story. Small town girl, big city. You're a smart guy. You can fill in the blanks." Nick made a noise in agreement.
"Sure… When did you get to town?”
“Last week. Goodneighbor washes your past away the minute you get to town.” He gave a somber nod.
"Most people who end up here are running from something.” Felicity’s dark eyes fell to the ground, swimming in memories from what Nick could tell. She looked like a small child with the world on her shoulders, desperately fighting the anguish building in her chest. "Were you-"
"Did you really spend your money to ask for my life story?" The detective could hear the irritation in her voice and he relinquished a long and tired sigh. After putting out his finished cigarette in the ashtray, he folded his arms on the table to come in close and grab her attention.
“A long, long, time ago, I knew a guy who was engaged to this girl. Bright, young, innocent… He was crazy about her. She probably shouldn't have given him the time of day but for some reason she felt the same way. The poor bastard was naive enough to believe that his dirty work wouldn't ever reach her. But one day… it caught up all at once. She was murdered in the street, and left for dead." Her jaw dropped open, and her eyebrows furrowed as she put together coincidences. "He was never the same after that. I guess when you don't have much to live for you don't want to feel alive anymore…" Dumbfounded she continued to sit, wide eyed and blinking. Her heart thudded so hard in her chest she swore she could see the tiny beads shake with each pulse. "I know who you are, Miss Gardner." Silence fell between them, freezing them both in place as the jazz bar continued to buzz around them. Cold sweat fell down her back as she debated making a dash for the door, but her legs would be too weak to carry her.
"How?" She finally broke the silence with a broken whisper.
"Your brother in law has been looking for you for a very long time."
"Luke?" Nick nodded, taking the cigarette that she had forgotten about from her fingers before she could drop it. She didn't even notice as still tried to piece together what had happened.  
"He seems to be the only one in your family who thinks you're still alive."
"I don't have a family.” Her voice grew softer, gently folding her arms in front of her chest. “Luke’s a child. He doesn’t understand.”
"He’s not that much younger than you. And as it happens, I met a few people who would disagree with you." Nick sighed.
"They told you what happened?"
"Yeah, they did."
"Is that why you made up that story about your friend?" She asked.
"I didn’t make it up. To be honest, I try not to think about it most of the time, but I thought you would be able to relate to it.”  Her expression softened, letting her body relax some.
"Well... what happened to him then? After his fiance was killed?"
"He died." He said plainly. She scoffed and rolled her eyes in pained disgust.
“Great ending. I’ll be sure to remember that one when I’m looking for that bright side.”
“He’d be dead by now anyway. That’s not the point. He spent what time he did have pushing away his family and friends and ended up making some mistakes he could never take back. I don’t know how much different his life would have turned out if he had let them support him, but I know he regretted it till the very end.” Felicity quietly leaned back in her chair, losing the will to continue to hold make the tears forming in her eyes. She closed them to compose herself, swallowing down the emotion that boiled inside her, and allowing a few small tears to roll down her cheeks.
“Well, you solved your case. Go ahead and tell Luke I’m not dead.” She started to get up once more but he lifted his hand to stop her.
“I still have ten minutes.” He stated. She hesitated before unwillingly sitting back down, and wiping her tears. “Let’s talk about why you left.”
“No, thanks.”
“Luke was clueless when I asked him. Everything pointed to you killing yourself, hell, even I told him you were probably gone, but he insisted you were alive. He said he just knew.” She picked at the skin around her nails, unable to hold the detective’s gaze as the tears continued to fall.
“Sam’s dead. Whatever ties I had to his family should be dead too.”
“Do you really think that?” Nick’s eyebrows snapped together with concern. She shrugged quietly, still focused on the peeling dead skin around her thumb. “The world is cold enough as it is, with a large sparsity of trustworthy people. I think anyone who’s willing to have your back in the dark times can be considered family.” The girl’s eyes finally met his once more, struggling to face the demons she had spent so much time running from.
“If I go back, I’ll see him everywhere I look… At least here I can forget about it from time to time.”
“Do you want to forget it?” His words broke through the last of the barricade she had built. A quiet sob left her, cueing Nick to stand and walk around the table and squat down beside her. “I know the reminders rain down like hellfire at first, and that it’s enough to drown in. But one day it really will get easier. I don't have to tell you it won't be the same, but something always comes from the ashes.”
“I’m supposed to just live knowing it’s always going to hurt just because it might get better soon?” He gave a sad sigh and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Everyone has pain. Some of us just carry more than others. It’s still up to you if you want to just survive, or if you want to live.” She hesitantly nodded, processing the raw emotions that had been begging to come out for months. “Your family needs to see you.”
“I’m not worth their time anymore.” Felicity choked out, biting her lip to keep her volume low.
“Well, you should tell that to Luke. He gave me his last fifty caps to get you home.”
“He what?” Her head snapped up at him, sniffling in between her words. “But… You spent your whole reward talking to me?” The synth smiled at her, standing straight once more.
“Not quite. Take his.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the coin pouch, holding the last ten caps, to hand it over to her. She held it gingerly, the bag cupped in both hands.“See that merc over there? The big one?” He pointed to a man standing near the entrance. A long leather coat draped down to his ankles, wrapped in straps that held gun holsters to his waist. “He looks like he’ll eat you, but just tell him Nick Valentine sent you. He’ll take you home . He owes me one so he’ll do it cheap. He usually has some Addictol he’ll sell so you can get clean before you head back too. Do you have a change of clothes? A coat?”
“Y-yes, but you’re not taking me?” She asked.
“I would if I could. But I’m actually here on another case right now.” He extended his hand to her to help her back to her feet.
“Well, wait, you weren’t even here for me? Why did you even bother to talk to me?”
“You said ‘hello’. It would have been rude to ignore you.” He gave her one last playful smile before reaching to shake her hand. “I’ll be checking in on you soon to make sure you made it, so don’t think about changing your mind.”
“I think if I did fate would throw you back in front of me again.”
“You’re onto something there.” Nick chuckled. “I’ll see you around, kid.” He turned away from her, heading towards the bar.
“Detective?” Felicity called out to him, causing him to turn back to face her. When she opened her mouth, however, words seemed to fail her. Thankfully, Nick had seen that look on many people before. Unexplainable gratitude, he would call it. He gave her an understanding smile and nod and watched as she finally began to make her way to the leatherbound man. The feeling of satisfaction washed over the bot as he continued to the bar. A gentleman who had been nursing his drink at the bar caught Nick out of the corner of his eye as he approached.
“Detective Valentine?” He set down his glass, relief coming across his face. “Hi, I wrote you about Darla?”
“Ah good, you made it. Sorry I'm late.” Nick shook the man’s hand. “So, you think she’s been kidnapped? Tell me what you know."
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fictionkinfessions · 2 years
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interest check for an 18+ fallout kin server? we'd be system friendly & open to wasteland folks from fo1 to fo76 and everything in between (#🏕️🚗)
party note: If anyone is interested, please reblog, like, or reply to this post! No further ask responses will be posted for this conversation so that no one’s message is missed! Thank you!
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fictionkinfessions · 3 years
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Hey there, so me and a few others have been wondering if there are any Fallout fictive servers out there? It can be kin included but we would prefer if it was a system only server but either is fine. The body’s a minor (older than 13) if that helps. So yeah I believe that’s it. Thank you. Oh and if there isn’t, then possible interest check for making one?
-Arcade Gannon from the 🔆 system (tag as fictive)
party note: If anyone is interested, please reblog, like, or reply to this post! No further ask responses will be posted for this conversation so that no one’s message is missed! Thank you!
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