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captaincravatthecapricious · 4 years ago

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Is That Your Blood? Prompt Fill

Jon is missing. Martin and Tim need to get him back.

cw blood, references to nonconsensual touching canon typical of the circus, canon typical levels of Tim being self destructive

This is one I wrote last week for my bingo prompts! I have started writing the another, but please be patient with me I got very behind doing things while I was writing so much and now I am mostly caught up but the serotonin and motivation levels are low. I am still accepting bingo prompts, but again it might be slow going for a bit. Let me know if you want art or fic and which character you want! (Pro tip, I am much faster at the art). The starred prompts are ones I already have and have outlined, the crossed out ones are already written and posted. Card by the wonderful @celosiaa

Jon is missing.

Tim should have known it immediately.�� He should have noticed the second he was gone. But Jon had gone to see Georgie, and wasn’t clear if he was planning on staying with her or going back to Tim’s flat. He should have known Jon would have come back if he could. He had been glued to either Martin’s or Tim’s side.

Just barely well enough to work. Still small and weak and breakable. Still occasionally dizzy. Still aching headed when he worked for too long. Hands still painful and sore.

And he’s gone. And Tim should have known sooner.

And there is one smug bastard who could tell him where Jon is, but the slimy twat just gives him a placid smile saying “he doesn’t know.” Utter bullshit.

Which is why Martin and Tim have a whole box of statements and a lighter.

When Elias storms out of his office, Tim gives him the most innocent of smiles, as if he isn’t actively holding a burning statement in the middle of the hall. “Oh hey, double boss, how’s it hanging?”

Elias looks very very angry, but also like he is trying to look nonplussed. And failing. “These documents are for archiving, not kindling. There will be repercussions for these actions.”

Tim drops his smile. “And there are repercussions for whatever you’ve done to Jon. I don’t care what you do to me, I’ll set the whole archives alight if you don’t tell me where he is.”

Something dangerous and self destructive and manic must have shown on Tim’s face, because Elias grumble something about it probably being long enough anyhow and finally gives them an address, which Martin is scribbling down before Elias can even turn on his heel.

“Well that went well!” Says Tim brightly.

Martim hmmmms. “We might want to be concerned about those repercussions? But… we can worry about that once Jon is back.”

Tim snorts. “What can he do? Not like he can even fire us. And if he does, we’re better off.”

Martin drops his burning statement in the bin, looking unreasonably disappointed about the lack of continued arson that they would be committing, (or rather wouldn’t be committing). “But you won’t leave until we’ve stopped the Unknowing.”

Tim’s face darkens again. He can feel it, and he doesn’t care at all. “You’re right.”

“Right… You will try and come back from it… Please?”

Tim shrugs. “Ask me once we get Jon back.”

The drive to the wax museum is tense. Things are easier between Martin and Tim than they have been in months, but their shared concern is palpable. Jon is missing. Jon is kidnapped. Jon is possibly hurt. The circus has Jon. The Circus. That Circus Tim has screamed himself awake over more nights than he can count. And he wishes that he could just set the whole thing on fire right now. he doesn’t want to wait, now that he knows where they are.

Fuck caution. Fuck everything. He wants his revenge.

But… but Jon.

He can’t lose Jon.

Not like he lost…..

He can’t even think their names without shattering like thin glass dropped in boiling water.

They find Jon. He isn't guarded. He's tied to a chair, very naked, very bruised, and very bloody. He's suspiciously shiny looking and smells strongly of something artificial and floral.

He's shivering. And Tim's blood boils.

Jon was just starting to heal! And Tim knows the heavy bruising might partly be due to EDS, but this is absurd. He shouldn't be bruised at all!

Jon is hunched over, small and shaking and barely conscious. Hiding from the world behind his tangled and greasy hair.

"Shit, Jon, is that all your blood?" Martin squeaks.

It is, clearly. Jon isn't with it enough to even notice them, but the blood on his face and chest is clearly from a bloody nose, and the blood on his wrists and ankles look to be from where the rope is biting into him.

Martin rushes forward. Tim is frozen in place. Frozen in anger and terror, just like he had been all there's years ago. This won't happen again. This can't happen again. He can't survive losing someone else to this... whatever the HELL this is. He can't do it. Not again.

Jon screams the moment Martin touches him. Or tries to. It's then that Tim notices the gag in Jon's mouth.

That does it. THOSE FUCKING BASTARDS THEY COULD HAVE KILLED JON. JON HAS ATHSMA. HE COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED. HE COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED THEY COULD HAVE BEEN TOO LATE. JON COULD HAVE DIED BECAUSE OF A STUPID CLOTH IN HIS MOUTH.

While Tim is trying not to scream or punch a wall or spontaneously combust, Martin is speaking softly to Jon, probably trying to get Jon to recognize him as something real and tangible and not a threat. Tim sees Jon timidly nod in response to Something Martin says, and Martin gently removes the gag. Touching Jon as little as possible.

Jon starts sobbing.

Tim can see Martin's heart break.

Jon had been getting so affectionate with them. Leaning into every touch, instead of backing away. Now... he's more skittish than ever. Tim takes a few deep breaths before finally walking over.

"Hey, buddy. Do you think I could untie you?"

Jon stares at him for a long moment.

Tim raises his hands so Jon can see he doesn't have any weapons or anything.

Jon slowly nods, twisting painfully in his seat so he can watch. His movement tightening his bonds. Making Tim's job considerably harder, but... that's fine. Keeping Jon calm is important.

Tim's goal has to stay saving Jon, and if he sees any member of the Circus, he is sure to lose sight of that in favor of revenge, consequences be damned.

They get Jon free, and he immediately curls into a stiff little ball, whimpering. Crying harder when anyone tries to touch him. Tim goes to fetch a blanket from his car. Jon might feel a little less afraid if he is less exposed. Not to mention, Tim would like to keep his car not blood-soaked if he has the option. And he wants to keep Jon warm. That should be his top priority.

It quickly becomes apparently that Jon can't walk. He can barely move. Sore from the bruises and being tied up.

"Jon, would it be alright to pick you up? We need to get out of here." Martin. God bless his gentle voice. God bless Jon's infatuation. Jon bites his lip hard, but nods. He's wrapped tightly in the blanket now, face half hidden in it, flakes of dried blood starting to come loose from his face and decorating the blanket. He flinches away from the hands lifting him, and he bites back a whimper, then a scream. And Tim isn't sure if it's the horror of whatever he's been through, or the pain he's in, or the lingering vertigo, but he is hurting and it breaks Tim's heart.

They make it out. Martin spends the several hour drive in the backseat. Trying to get some water and painkillers and dramamine into Jon. (The last thing Jon needs s to be carsick in this state). Jon just shivers and weeps. Eventually trusting Martin enough to cling to him like he is the only solid thing in the world.

By the time they reach Tim's flat, Jon is calm enough that he lets Tim and Martin guide him to the bath tub. Jon very, very timidly consents to them helping him wash up. (And only after he had been left alone in the tub and almost fainted trying to stand to shower and bringing all the soaps crashing down around him.)

Tim gets to work on his hair, while Martin gently starts working the blood and grime and... is that lotion? off of Jon.

Jon slowly relaxes. Slowly starts to realize that he is really back with Martin and Tim. That they won't touch anywhere that he doesn't want them to. And he goes effectively boneless when the tub is drained, and Tim gives him a last rince with the shower, just as Tim knows Jon appreciates. That gains him a weak smile as Tim narrates what he is doing, which also seems to calm Jon. The only time he panicked during the process is when one of them touched him when his eyes slipped closed. Jon had done his best to keep his eyes open after that. But... by the end he couldn't manage it anymore. Sinking into the touch as Tim had gotten used to him doing.

Tim cooks that night. Jon wrapped in blankets, dozing fitfully on Martin, as Martin carefully keeps his hands to himself and does a bit of writing. Tim honestly can't tell if he's writing poetry or plotting his revenge upon the circus. And Tim feels a twinge in his chest. He has to survive this for them. He can't leave them. He can't leave them alone. It scares him that Jon and Martin could die in...whatever their plan ends up being. It scares him, and he won't let them die. And... and if he can survive to keep protecting them, he has to.

He makes curry. Good and hot and filling. Seasoned to Jon's preferences.

He's cooked side by side with Jon before. It's been a long time, between the baggage between them and Jon's recent illness and injuries, but he can hope Jon will cook with him again.

Jon is slightly revived by then, and feels safe enough to let himself be held, both during the parade of Buzzfeed Unsolved supernatural episodes and beyond that, once the three of them are tucked safely in Tim's bed. Jon in the middle. Martin and Tim shielding him from the world. So what if Tim sleeps with a baseball bat propped up next to his bed? So what if Martin has resumed sleeping with a corkscrew? They have Jon back, and they will not be losing him ever again.

#the magnus archives #tma #whump #jonmartim #jonathan sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #timothy stoker #cw blood #cw torture #i guess #cw fire #words #fic #my words #my writing #my fic #art #my art

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glitchvault74 · 5 years ago

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Take Me down to Diamond City Where the Walls are Green and the Girls are Pretty

[Previous]

The wake-up call from the vault may have been Prince Charming’s kiss after a long two hundred years asleep... But the trip to Diamond City is where everything about this situation becomes real. At first, it was like the trip to the settlement that Rig never caught the name of and won’t know how to find later to prove his innocence to Lady. It was a daze-filled dreamworld of a broken countryside. It was something Rig couldn’t comprehend and didn’t bother to try.

But then Tim has Rig stop by a rusted car, half buried in the ground and with all the windows shattered. Tim has him wait and then wanders off to do something, and Rig stares at the car. He wanders around it, getting the details of it. The paint is long gone and pieces of the car are torn off for who knows what reason. There’s something in the backseat— a... skeleton in the backseat. One that looks much too real to be anything besides human remains. Just something sitting so casually out in the open...

Except it’s not “the open”, so to speak. Rig looks around, noticing more things. Perhaps not finer details, but at the least he can now notice anything about the world around him. Actually perceive it and understand what he’s looking at. Rusted cars everywhere, a freeway collapsed with parts of it hanging precariously, structures that look practically melted with how they’re falling apart. Desolate, decaying, decimated... There’s trash everywhere. There’s a few more bodies.

He covers his mouth and holds his stomach as he crouches. This is real. This is real. Everything’s in a sharp clarity now, that’s buzzing in his ears— Or is that buzzing external...?

Rig looks up and scrambles back at the sight of something giant and flying and scary. Like some sort of hell insect. And coming right at him. He jumps to his feet like an awkward, newborn foal, with all the grace of someone who suddenly forgot how to walk, and he’s about to run when—

BANG!

He runs anyway, at the least to behind the safety of another car, and he peeks over it when the sounds have stopped. Tim approaches the remains of the hellsect, now holding a gun of some sort and carrying a pack holding who knows what.

“Olly olly oxen free!” he calls, waving over at him. “You can come out now! The big scary bloodbug is dead!”

Rig hesitates, but he shuffles out from behind the car and back over to Tim. He wrinkles his nose as Tim pulls out a knife from his pack and cuts off chunks of the “bloodbug”.

“Your first time seeing one of these, yeah?” Tim asks. “Trust me, no one likes these things.”

“Why’s it called a bloodbug?” Rig asks.

“Uh, maybe because they eat blood?”

“Oh, like a mosquito...”

“Spit it back at you too.”

“Oh, like a mutant mosquito.”

“Got it in two, Rigsby,” Tim grins. “That’s exactly what these are.” He wraps up chunks of the bloodbug and shoves it into his pack. “We’re eating like kings tonight. Kings who eat gross bugs.”

Rig pulls a face. Something caught between disbelief and utter disgust. Tim cleans up his knife and puts it away and then stands up, picking his gun up with him.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “We’ll cook it first. Less chance of disease that way.”

Rig closes his mouth. He didn’t even realize it was open. He stares at the mess of the bloodbug remains and then back up at Tim. “I’ll be right back,” he says and he wanders off to behind the closest car.

“What?” Tim calls over. “Something wro—?” He cringes at the familiar sound of someone trying to vomit on an empty stomach. “Well. Thanks for not doing that on me!”

By the time Rig stumbles back over, he’s dizzy and light-headed all over again. The world is back to being spinny— was it spinny before?

“Rig? Rigsby? Hey—”

“Huh?” Rig asks. He flinches when something splashes in his face. “Huh???”

“Here.” Tim shoves something into Rig’s hands. Water. “Drink this.”

“I’m not—” He cuts himself off. His throat is burning. He drinks, not pausing at the taste this time. The vertigo and nausea passes and he hands the container back.

“Feeling better?” Tim asks.

“Less dead,” Rig says, flashing an OK.

“Good enough.” Tim motions for him to follow again. “Man, Doc Teddy Bear was right after all. You would not survive out here on your own. With how fast you’re moving, it’ll be another day before we get to Diamond City. We should find some shelter before night hits.”

“Hmm,” Rig says, glancing back to the car he saw the skeleton in as he follows Tim.

“You taking notes?” Tim asks. “This is your Wasteland Survival Guide. Good ol’ Jim won’t be around to help you forever, you know.”

“On purpose?” Rig asks, distracted.

Tim looks back at him. “I mean, hopefully, yeah—”

“The name thing,” Rig clarifies. “You told me to call you Tim, but you called yourself different things since then...?”

Tim grins. “That’s a test to see if you’re paying attention. Good job. I’ll let you have the nicer bloodbug steak tonight as a treat.”

Rig covers his mouth again.

“Orrrr not! That’s fine too!”

The rest of the day goes much smoother. Rig picks up his pace the moment he feels less sick, follows along just behind Tim who keeps him in his peripheral. They stop a few times to avoid dangers, Tim redirects them a few other times. It’s a long, winding path they’re taking, and not useful for Rig to figure out where he is at all, even with the map Tim says is on his Pip-Boy. It means nothing to him if he doesn’t know any of the landmarks they’re passing.

Tim will not shut up either. But unlike the woman from the caravan, Rig listens more to the things Tim says. After all, while some of the things he says sound like lessons on how to survive... most of it is random comments or references to things or otherwise just interesting wordplay.

Rig smiles to himself as he thinks it over. Too bad he doesn’t have a way to record any of that. Tim says some fun things that Rig wants to relisten to sometime...

The sun sets, and they’re “still a half a day away” from Diamond City, according to Tim. Rig’s not certain how true that is, but with how they travelled today, he’ll accept it. He waits outside on the street in a long abandoned neighborhood as Tim checks to make sure it’s suitable for the night.

“Alright,” Tim calls from the doorway of a half-collapsed house at the edge of the neighborhood. “We should be safe in here. No raiders or anything.”

Rig walks in after Tim. What’s left of the house is gray and dusty. Part of the roof and the far wall is gone. There’s an old stove in the corner that Tim seems to have lit to cook something in. An old mattress on the floor that someone must have used before only to abandon it in the end... Everything smells of mildew and bad decisions. There’s a couple sturdy crates and Tim sits on one and motions for Rig to take the other.

“Home sweet dilapidated home,” Tim chuckles. “Dinner will be ready soon. Did you have a nice day at work?”

Rig sits down, sending Tim another confused look. Just one of many that’s been shared all day.

“That’s what it’d used to be like, right?” Tim asks. “Couples being all cute, one half working all day while the other stays home to cook and clean... I mean, assuming they didn’t have help...”

“Mister Handys?” Rig asks, pulling a face. “They made me nervous, so we never had one.”

“Oh?” Tim asks. “So who did the cooking and cleaning?”

“I did.” He leans forward on his knees and looks at the dirt on the ground. He could draw something in this. “R—” He stops for a moment. New word. Different word. “Roommate worked, I stayed home. I did the chores, he paid for things. He’d make sure I had a social life. Most of my friends were his friends.” He reaches down and starts to draw something. Tries to at least. Stupid Pip-Boy, making it difficult to see his work.

“Huh.” Tim smirks. “So, I should be getting you to cook for us, shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know how to cook bloodbug.”

“Heh, yeah. I’d imagine pre-war cooking is a bit different from how things are now.” Tim gets up and stretches. “Speaking of. You feeling better about eating that now or...?”

“Not hungry,” he says.

Tim tilts his head and watches Rig draw in the dirt. “Have you eaten at all since leaving that vault?”

Rig doesn’t answer for a moment. He pauses from drawing but doesn’t look up at Tim. “Nnyes?”

“You haven’t,” Tim says. He hums. “But you really don’t feel like eating...? You’re going to starve to death, Rigsby.”

“I died in 1948,” he grumbles.

Tim laughs. “Yeah? And when were you born?”

“I was never born.”

“Ooh, a ghost. That’s so spooky.”

“I could kill Macbeth.”

Tim grins. “I thought you said you weren’t a murderer.”

Rig looks up at him. “I thought you said I didn’t need to be strong to commit a homicide. Macbeth isn’t real anyway. Like... Like... John Hancock.” He immediately sighs and drops his face into his hand. “Stupid...” he mutters.

“Nope, you’re right,” Tim laughs. “John Hancock. Totally fictional.” He goes to check the steaks. “And I know who Macbeth is,” he says. “You’ll get ‘em next time, Macduff.”

“Hmm.” Rig glances at him and then down at his drawing of a skull. He frowns and swipes it away with his foot.

“But no, seriously.” Tim carries the cooked steaks over. “You want one of these or not? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Lost it in the jungle in 1805.” Rig stares at the steaks and grimaces. “It’s... safe to eat?”

“Ouch, what an insult.” Tim sits back down. “If you’re going to keep insulting my cooking, I’m going to file for divorce, honeypie.”

Rig blinks. His confused look returns, this time complete with his eyes darting back and forth as he tries to puzzle out an answer to a question his mind hasn’t thought to ask.

“It’s safe,” Tim says, holding one of the steaks out. “Promise. You have, what, fifteen caps on you? That’s not worth murdering someone over. That shirt on the other hand...”

“.........If I die,” Rig says, a bit slower than before as he actually thinks over his words. He takes the steak. “Then as long as you didn’t divorce me... you’re entitled to my things.”

Tim laughs. “And they say romance is dead!”

Rig smiles a little and then takes a bite of the steak without looking at it. He pulls a face as he chews it. Chews a bit more. Lifts his brow and nods in approval and eats more.

“Really?” Tim asks between mouthfuls of his own steak. “You turned around on your opinion that fast?”

“I’ve had worse,” Rig answers. “Roommate cooked once. Was gross and gave me food poisoning.”

“That’s going to happen at some point. Wasteland Survival lesson whatever number we’re on. You’re going to eat some bad food at some point and get food poisoning.”

“...Gross.”

“Mm-hmm. One of the glamorous things about life.”

The two lapse into silence as they eat their meals. The moon shines overhead. Tim still wears those sunglasses. He finishes eating first.

“I’ll take first watch,” he says. He hums and wiggles his hand as he thinks. “I’ll take watch,” he corrects. “I’m a light sleeper, but I don’t trust you to know what to look for to wake me up in time should something show up.”

“Yeah,” Rig says. “You’re not going to sleep, though?”

“Eh, I’ll catch some Z’s. When you least expect it. You won’t even notice.” He moves his crate over to where his things are resting against the wall, giving him full view over everything else. “But I promised to get you to Diamond City in one piece, didn’t I?”

Rig turns around on his crate to face Tim. “...What’s your story?” he asks.

“My story?” He smiles. “Nothing special. Parents were farmers, so I grew up learning good, working values. Then the farm got overrun by ferals and we were forced to leave. Spent my young adult years going around to different places, doing different jobs, learning new skills. Took up hunting for food at some point. You saw how good my aim was with that bloodbug, right?”

“No, I was hiding,” Rig says.

“You’re honest,” Tim chuckles. “I like that about you, Rig. You seem like you couldn’t tell a single lie.”

Rig’s lips thin. He chews his last bite of bloodbug slowly and swallows it. “Yeah...”

“Anyway,” Tim continues. “Ended up settling in Buttonwood—that’s where Doc Tedds was treating you—while my parents found their way to Diamond City. They’re elderly now, so I make sure to visit them frequently before they shuffle off this mortal coil.”

Rig squints. “Hmm.”

“What?” Tim asks. “Don’t believe me...?”

“...The settlement is called Buttonwood?”

“...Heh.” Tim leans back against the wall. “Yeah. It actually is. Well, get some sleep, Rigsby. We’ve got another long walk ahead of us.”

Rig shrugs and gets up. Weird. He feels a bit better than he did before sitting down... He lies down on the mattress, on his side facing the wall and closes his eyes...

Ends up opening them some twenty minutes later, he estimates, unable to sleep. Maybe he can trick himself to sleep if he doesn’t move from this spot and just... thinks or something...

But everything that happened that day bounces around in his mind. The bloodbug, the skeleton, Lady, the accusation that Rig killed someone... Tim. Whatever was up with Tom. His ol’ pal Jim.

Morning comes with the sound of Tim moving around, just like he did throughout the night, but this time, Rig flips over to face him.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Tim grins. “Want some breakfast?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Not even if I were to offer you... Fancy Lads?”

Rig looks up. “You have Fancy Lads?”

Tim pulls out a package. “And they have your name on them!” He tosses it to Rig who catches it.

Rig looks at the package and sees the “RIG” written on the outside. “...You have a pen?”

“What? Nooo. I found them like that.”

Rig furrows his brow. That... sounds like a lie... “...Alright,” he says, choosing to accept it even if he knows better than to believe that. He’ll find his own pen. Some day... In the meantime: it’s Fancy Lads Snack Cakes for breakfast. Amazing that these things never expire and therefore have to still be edible, because that’s how expiry dates work, right? He gets a mouthful of cake and talks around it as he chews. “These things are as disgusting as I remember them being.”

Tim looks up from his own breakfast. Some kind of fruit maybe? “You don’t like them?”

“I love them,” Rig says. “Doesn’t make them any less disgusting. Hadn’t had them since I was a kid.”

“...Why are you eating them if you think they’re disgusting?”

“You fed me bloodbug last night and now nothing is sacred.”

“Fair enough.”

Breakfast ends with little fanfare. Tim packs up. They head out. Simple as that. It’s back to the same as the day before. Navigating around like in the most zigzag way they can. Avoiding dangers. Probably taking twice as long to get anywhere, perhaps longer. But if they’re having to stop to hide from something that Rig doesn’t have the chance to see but Tim insists is there, Rig rather err on the side of “okay but that bloodbug continues to be terrifying I rather trust Tim that there’s something dangerous we have to hide from than risk dying.”

Even so, Tim’s back to saying things. Rig’s back to listening. It’s a shame they’ll part ways once they get to Diamond City. Rig may not know this man, but likes his company.

The buildings get bigger—the ones still standing that is, as abandoned as they are. There’s more concrete, cracked several times over and broken into chunks. There’s more people, but they don’t stay and chat too long. Tim does his best to avoid anyone seeing them for some reason.

Things start looking a bit more familiar... Like a place Rig’s been to before, only utterly wrecked from time and a war he doesn’t remember. The eerie, empty giants are shells of the past that Rig doesn’t recognize, if he ever could.

Tim leads him along to a... huge-big, green, walled structure. Rig stares at it as they get closer. That’s odd... He feels like he should know this one at least... He’s been here at least, right...? At least in passing...?

They’re nearly right in front of the statue of a baseball player before Rig actually sees it. His eyes widen and he gasps. “Oh! I get it now!”

“Yeah?” Tim grins.

“This is Diamond City?” he asks. “On a baseball diamond? What was the name of this.... Sports... field...? St— Stereo— Uh.” Rig looks down in thought. He snaps his fingers. “Stadium! What was the name of the stadium?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be pre-war?” Tim grins. “You don’t remember the name?”

“I’m not from Massachusetts,” he says. “I was living here only.... Maybe 5 years? Before whatever happened? Maybe more? I don’t know. I’m terrible with time.”

“Ha!” Tim claps a hand onto Rig’s shoulder. “That’s great that you broke your clock and calendar, then.”

Rig frowns. “Yeah...”

“Well, buck up,” Tim says. “As soon as we get through those gates, this part of the journey will be over! You just have to find that detective and convince him to take on your case with those fifteen caps in your pocket.”

“...That’s not worth much is it?”

“Nope! But you could always offer that shirt.”

Rig twists his body away, holding onto his flamingo shirt by the shoulders, utter offense coating his face. The audacity. The nerve.

“Yep,” Tim laughs. “You know how valuable that is. Let’s go, Rigsby. Just a little farther.”

“...How do I find that detective...?”

“Just look for his sign. His is the only detective agency in town.”

Rig looks away as he thinks it over, merely following Tim inside without paying attention to how they got in or where they’re going. “What happens if I—?”

He looks around. He’s in the city, by himself, Tim nowhere to be seen.

...Time to wander aimlessly in hopes of finding where he needs to go.

———

It’s a quiet evening in the Valentine Detective Agency. The sun is setting outside the walls of the office, and there likely won’t be anyone showing up on their doorstep with a case to solve... But that’s just jinxing it. In the meantime, Detective Nick Valentine reads through the paper, reading up on local news for the day. He sent Ellie home early when the day seemed to be bringing no trouble with it, leaving Nick in the office with his trusty partner, Miss Echo Gray, and Echo’s trusty partner, a German Shepherd being spoiled with belly rubs.

“Who’s a good boy?” Echo kneels on the floor as she showers Dogmeat with affection. Dogmeat’s tail thumps on the floor as he gives happy little boofs. “Who’s a good boy?”

“Boof!”

“That’s right! You’re a good boy!”

“You’re a good man, Dogmeat,” Nick adds, a casual, amused smile on his lips as he turns the page of his paper.

Dogmeet boofs again and then climbs to his feet to run in circles around Echo. Dogmeat then rushes to the door, barking excitedly at it.

“Expecting someone, Nick?” Echo asks, quickly pulling out a pair of sunglasses to cover her silver eyes and obscure the scar running down the right side of her face. She stands up, waiting to hear a knock.

“Not this late, no,” Nick answers. He sets down the paper and heads for the door. “Echo, could you...?”

“Dogmeat!” Echo clicks her tongue. “Here, boy.”

Dogmeat rushes up to her and sits at her side. There’s a knock just before Nick opens the door.

“Oh, Detective Valentine,” a man says, dressed in a coat, a hat, and sunglasses. He dabs a dirty handkerchief to his face to wipe up imaginary tears. “It’s simply awful. I need to hire your services to find my missing insert relation to me here.”

“Deacon,” Nick deadpans. “What are you doing here?”

Deacon grins. “Practicing my acting skills. I think I’m ready to start a theatre troupe. Gotta keep busy somehow, right? What do you think?”

“You know, for someone who lies every other sentence, you’d think your drama skills would be better.”

Deacon clutches his chest. “You wound me!”

Nick rolls his optics. “What are you actually doing here?”

“Can’t a man say hi to his sister once in a while?”

“You have a sister?” Echo deadpans, moving to stand beside Nick. “And before you make the—”

“Of course I do, sis!” Deacon grins and leans in with a motion to his sunglasses. “We have the same eyes!”

“Get new jokes,” Echo sighs. “Maybe then you could do stand-up instead of theatre.”

Deacon grins. “Right back at ya, Bullseye. Say, any new cases pop up in the last... Oh, let’s say three hours?”

“Nope,” Nick says. He finally moves out of the doorway, a silent invitation for Deacon to come in. “It’s been a quiet day. Even sent Ellie home early.”

“Really?” Deacon asks, wandering into the office. “You didn’t see or hear anything from a guy in a stupid shirt with pink birds on it, did you?”

“Flamingos?” Echo asks.

“You’ve seen him!”

“Nope,” she says. “Why, should we have...?”

Deacon goes oddly quiet. “...So,” he says at last. “I guess it’s true what they say. You can lead a vaultie to Diamond City but you can’t make him be able to find the only detective agency in town on his own.”

Nick and Echo both look at him in alarm.

“Deacon,” Nick says. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Deacon says. “Now, if you were to ask him, he might tell you about a Tim or maybe a Tom who helped him get here, but...”

Echo covers her face. “Deacoooon,” she groans.

“Well, hey!” Deacon grins. “Bright side is, that guy is totally harmless! He’s more likely to get killed than hurt anyone.” He winces. “Maybe we ought to find him.”

“I’ll stay here,” Nick says. “In case he finds his way here after all. Echo, you go with Deacon. Take Dogmeat. Hopefully, this man’s got enough sense to at least say within the city walls.”

———

Rig has absolutely no idea how long it’s been since he got to Diamond City, but he’s no closer to finding where he needs to go than he was the first dozen times he passed by this building despite the fact he knows he’s been trying different paths looking for that sign Tim told him to look for. Detective Agency. Detective Agency. How hard could it be to find a sign that says Detective Agency? He can read. Why is finding it the hard part?

Worse yet, the sun has set. He’s lost, confused, and has no idea where to go. He groans and keeps walking, hoping to spy something different besides the darkness making everything harder to see. Except for whatever that weird red-pink glow is but—

He backtracks and squints at the sign.

Valentine Detective Agency.

Oh.

...The heart and arrow’s a nice touch.

Rig hesitates, looking up and down the street. Would it still be open at this hour...? Well, he doesn’t have much else to do... He follows the sign to a door, and he knocks.

“Dammit,” someone curses from inside. “Just a moment!”

Rig waits patiently. He glances around as he waits, looking at. Just about anything, really. That’s an interesting color of brick. Is that graffiti or glue from an old poster? Is that—?

The door opens and Rig looks at the person on the other side. He blinks, pulling back as he takes in the person’s face. Graying, cracking skin that’s missing chunks. Mechanical parts underneath. Glowing yellow eyes. Dressed like a detective at least. That’s a good sign. The eyes dart down to his shirt. Rig waves, unsure what else to do. “Is this the detective agency...?”

“Yep,” the person says. Because this is clearly a person even if... He motions in with a skeletal, metal hand. “You must be that vault dweller Deacon dragged in.”

“Who?” he asks, following inside.

“Oh, uh... Tim.”

“...His name is Tim Deacon?”

“Well. No.” The person leans against a desk and crosses their arms. “Deacon was lying to ya, kid. Whatever he told you taking you here, most of it was probably lies.”

Rig slumps his shoulders. “Oh... Does that mean you can’t help me with the thing I need help with?”

The person smiles. “Now, that one is less likely a lie. Detective Nick Valentine. My partner, Echo, is out with Deacon looking for you, but they’re bound to give up and come back soon. Why don’t you tell me your situation in the meantime...? What’s your name, kid?”

“...Uh, well.” He winces. “Um... I’m Rig Miller.”

Nick lowers his arm and stands up straighter but doesn’t say anything for a moment. He eyes Rig, almost suspiciously. “Oh...?”

“And I woke up in some vault. 113, I think? And I... went to some settlement where some... I think she was called a ghoul? Named Lady? Said I killed her sister before the war. And I... want to prove I didn’t... But don’t know where to start...?”

“...How did you get in that vault?”

Rig shrugs. “People keep asking me that, but I have no idea. I just woke up there. I don’t remember how I got there...”

“Well, how did you get out?”

“I... don’t know.” Rig shrugs. “I was really dizzy. The door opened and I walked out.”

“That...” Nick trails off and then changes tracks. “Do you remember where it is? Is it on your Pip-Boy?”

Rig looks at his Pip-Boy. “I don’t know how to use this.”

Nick points at the dial. “Go to the maps. See what locations are marked. Hopefully, even if you haven’t been adding locations, it’ll have the location of the vault that this came from on it.”

Rig switches to the maps setting. He winces as the screen fills with bright green. “...I may have broken the map too.”

Nick looks down at the screen. “...How the hell do you break a Pip-Boy like that?”

Rig switches back to the setting it was on before. “One of life’s greatest mysteries... On par with ‘where does sand come from?’”

“Erosion,” Nick says. “We know where sand comes from.”

“Oh. Okay.” Rig looks back to the door and stiffly points at it. “I’ll just go—”

“No, no,” Nick sighs. “Look. I understand how all this must feel. Waking up somewhere unfamiliar, no knowledge how you got there, with only memories of a pre-war life to help you...”

Rig frowns. “Is it rude to ask what you are...?”

Nick smiles. “There’s a lot more ruder ways to ask. I’m a synth. Do you know what synths are?”

Rig shakes his head. “I heard the word mentioned...”

“An artificially made person,” he says. “I’m an old prototype, before the Institute started making them organic. But we’ve since taken them down. Well, Echo did most of the work. But we don’t need to talk about that. What I’m saying is, I was given the memories of an old pre-war cop. So, whatever your situation is, having a life you remember living pre-war... I can relate.”

“So there was a...” Rig squints. “A Nick Valentine in my time too?”

“Yep,” Nick nod. “You remember hearing anything about the Eddie Winters case?”

“...What is that, some kind of sports team mascot?”

Nick grins but and laughs a little, but tries to keep it down. “Not quite. Don’t worry about it.”

“Was it, uh... big?” Rig frowns. “A big case? I didn’t follow the news much.”

“No, it’s fine. We don’t need to go into it.” Nick hums. “Now, Rig Miller... I remember hearing your name around before. That was another case another precinct was following, about a man who supposedly was committing several different crimes. I suppose the murder part of that happened after the original Nick got that brain scan, else I’d know about it now. So you want to prove you never did any of those crimes?”

Rig nods. “That’d be nice.”

“Will be a tough case,” Nick comments. “It’s been over 210 years since the bombs fell. No idea what we’ll find, especially with how the wastelands are if it’s something you’re not used to...”

“...Do you... need to be paid...?” Rig checks his pockets and counts the contents. “I have.... Fourteen caps. That’s money here, right?”

“No, it’s fine.” Nick smirks at the doorway. “I’ll just make Deacon pay for it.”

“Awww, what?”

Rig looks to the door and sees two people wearing sunglasses, and a big ol’ dog standing there. The man looks familiar, but dressed in a coat and a hat. The woman, he doesn’t recognize, dressed in layers and with brown hair pulled into a ponytail. The dog looks like a regular German Shepherd instead of a scary, mutated dog he might have been expecting. Said dog runs in, barking excitedly and jumping at Rig. Rig holds his arms out in surprise and takes a step back.

“Dogmeat!” the woman says, hurrying over to pull Dogmeat away. “Sorry about him. He has the zoomies.”

“Oh, hey!” the man says, waving. “You must be that guy my twin, Tim, told me about!”

“Deacon,” Nick scolds. “I already told him you were lying.”

Deacon grins. “Oh, yeah? Well then. Wasteland Survival lesson number whatever, Rigsby. People lie. All the time.”

Rig furrows his brow. “You kept your promise about getting me here...”

“Well, that’s just because I’m a good and wonderful person,” Deacon chuckles. “You already tell Valentine about that case you need help with?”

“We were just discussing it,” Nick says. “Echo, you need an update?”

“No I’m good,” the woman says. Echo looks up. “Rig, right?” she asks. She stands up once Dogmeat calms down, and she smiles at Rig. “Deacon told me your situation while we were looking for you.” She sends Deacon as pointed a look as she can with her eyes behind sunglasses. “Assuming you were telling the truth about that at least?”

Deacon holds his hands up in surrender. “Yeah. Promise. Rig Miller’s here to prove he’s not a pre-war killer.”

“Rig Miller, not a killer,” Rig mumbles. “Something something... Thriller? Hmm.”

Nick shakes his head. “Alright. It’s late. I don’t need to sleep, but the rest of you ought to. We’ll talk about this case in the morning.”

“Do you need a place to stay for the night?” Echo asks Rig.

Rig blinks. “...Uh...?”

“Yes,” Deacon interjects.

“Yes,” Rig parrots.

“Then let’s get to my place before it gets any later,” Echo says.

“It’s after office hours anyway,” Nick adds, ushering Rig out the door with the others following behind them. He locks the door and then holds out his arm for Echo. She hooks her arm around his.

“Come on, boys,” she says. “Deacon, make sure Rig doesn’t get lost.”

“You heard the compass, Rigsby,” Deacon says. “Keep up.”

Rig glances around at everyone, and remembers to follow a second after. Alright. Everything’s going okay so far... And they seem to trust him not to be a murderer... To want to help him prove he— that Rig isn’t... That he pretending to be Rig isn’t a murderer...

That’s good, right...?

———

Echo belongs to @falloutglow who also helped with writing this story.

[Next]

#The System is Rigged #Rig Miller #deacon #Echo Gray #nick valentine #story #this chapter is over 5k words omg #that's like twice as long as the previous chapter

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renaroo · 8 years ago

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Wednesday Roundup 20.7.2017

More than a little delayed this time around, but in my defense of DC week, there were two volumes I had to get through before fully writing up these reviews. And that’s a lot of comics but even with everything being from DC, did we have any stand outs? Anything really worth the while? We’ll see!

DC’s Batwoman, DC’s Mother Panic, DC’s Nightwing, DC’s Super Sons

DC’s Batwoman (2016-present) #4 Maguerite Bennett, James Tynion IV, Steve Epting, Jeromy Cox

Okay so initially when I was reading through this finale I was beginning to already formulate my general response. A recommendation, a lot of heartfelt love from me for being about Kate and providing much needed representation to the DC line, but overall this was a safe first story that was good but not as much of a standout as I had been hoping for. Which is still leaps and bounds better than some of my reactions to the first arcs of a few Rebirth storylines at this point, and I’m of course a huge fan of stories that wrap themselves up in four issues even if there’s still some open threads.

But honestly as much as I was ready for this to be basically summed up as pretty standard fare, honestly that ending between Kate and Julia, that revelation that all of this was something of a test of Kate and that Bruce seems to be back to his untrusting ways just… completely reframes everything. It makes me have to go back over and consider how all this twists what we’ve seen of Kate and Julia’s growing relationship, and how that may or may not relate to the “future” we saw for Kate in the Rebirth issue.

Of course… not all of that reframing is completely a good thing.

Ultimately, this means we’re getting scarily close to 2000s dickish Bruce Wayne across almost all titles. His inability to trust allies or treat anyone as an equal, the betrayals of those who mean the most to him, and to speak of nothing of the way that goes against everything he promised to Kate when they started the Belfry initiative. It’s not going to be good character development… if it’s not addressed as such.

Considering Tynion’s love of the 2000s Batfamily I’m wondering if he can continue to have awareness about the faults in that era. But we’ll have to wait and see, as with most things in life, I suppose.

DC’s Mother Panic (2016-present) Vol. 1: Work in Progress Jody Houser, Tommy Lee Edwards, Shawn Crystal, Jean-Francois Beaulieu

Mother Panic is one of those titles that I only heard about in passing a few months into its run and so I put it on my list to wait for the first trade and give it a look, especially since I kept hearing things that seem like earmarks for my interests: female lead, queer characters, Gotham landscapes, and a liberal use of profanity. I mean fuck yeah that sounds like something I’d read.

And, to be honest, I did a little too good of a job of keeping myself in the dark about what the storyline or characters were. Because by about the third issue into this volume I was like wow I really didn’t know what to expect with this series.

So I still have quite a bit of confusion about things, I felt that this story was really pretty dense with its meanings and characterizations. To the point that I’m fairly sure I’ll need to have a reread of this first volume to get more of an understanding of everything.

From my understanding, this is something of an experimental line with DC aiming for a more mature style and audience than the average line. Which, outside of having Violet have unfiltered “Fuckity Fucks” every now and then I think the biggest problem this title’s going to have is that… Same as what Vertigo went through a while ago, once things mix with the main line (having Batman and Batwoman show up in the margins, making this part of the greater canon) there’s less to make it unique. I mean, comics already are darker, more daring, more psychedelic and just in general more off the wall than anything that off-label comics of old.

So I’m interested in the comic, but the art in the second storyline was not all that impressive. And I’m curious to see what the follow up manages. That is, if the comic manages to standout enough to continue on among many other Batbooks that it has a whole lot more in common with than it’d like to admit.

As a side note, there’s a fourteen year old girl that was far too happy to have an afterword in this comic written by Gerard Way. Like. Yeah.

DC’s Nightwing (2016-present) Vol. 2: Back to Blüdhaven Tim Seeley, Minkyu Jung, Marcus To, Marcio Takara

I have been more than willing in the past to take the route of the unpopular opinion when it comes to Dick Grayson fare. I long ago came to terms with the idea that no matter what I do I cannot please hardly anyone else in the fandom beyond myself and have given up on trying to wave through the politics of it as such.

So I honestly didn’t know what to expect with this newly launched Nightwing series. I mean, I didn’t hate Grayson to the point that other fans did and the things I genuinely didn’t like about Batman and Robin Eternal had almost nothing to do with Dick and his role in the narrative which I actually felt were probably some of the strongest points of the story. So my opinion on Tim Seeley is about as unknowledgeable as someone who hadn’t read the first thing by him at all.

And then the first arc was the goddamn Court of Owls and I think if you have followed my blog at any point in the past 6 years you probably know how soured I am on the very concept of the Court of Owls and how they just won’t let it leave me alone. If you don’t, though, preview: despise it.

All that said and out of the way, I was really looking forward — and also really apprehensive with — the idea of this second arc bringing Dick back to Blüdhaven. Because quite simply I feel like Blüdhaven and the stories Dick went through there before are some of the most unique and defining parts of his solo career away from Batman and away from the Titans, if not some of the best stories from Dick’s tenure, at least in the early 2000s, as Rightwing in general. So finally having Volume 2 out so I can experience it for myself was a treat… that I was REALLY nervous about eating.

Because here’s the thing: I’m a comic fan who actually doesn’t want everyone to just repeat all the old storylines again. We’ve cemented ourselves well enough into the idea that this is a different universe that I want writers to explore what that means by taking the good things from the past and correcting the bad or at least updating them to the point that it feels more natural in this new setup and environment provided to us.

So I’m actually really relieved that this first arc in Blüdhaven is actually taking us in a very different direction. The gang structure is different, the way the police and government are corrupted is unfamiliar, and Dick’s interaction with his Rogues, and in turn his Rogues gallery’s turn around on their opinions of him is honestly kind of refreshing. We haven’t spent enough time with most of them to get a good sense of them as individuals but they are colorful and easily differentiated enough that it’s easy to see how they can be explored and played off Dick in the future. I liked the new detective on Dick’s side. And I actually found myself really excited about Shawn’s development and, in truth, Dick’s relationship development with a new romantic interest who seems to be pretty proudly bisexual and biracial, as well as someone who connects to his life both as a vigilante and as a civilian. And they play off each other well even if I feel like we’ve moved pretty fast into this relationship, it doesn’t feel fast in the way bad writers for Dick used to make “oh Dick is afraid of commitment and can’t slow down”, it is moving fast because the pacing of the stories are fast and because Dick and Shawn feel like young adults who are diving into their feelings headfirst and worrying about the future as they go, which they were starting to do in their own ways.

And going back to my hopes that writers would take good elements of old canon and explore them differently or extrapolate on them faster: Dick’s relationships are front and center, the Titans cameo or appear frequently as Dick’s best friends and main support, the Batfamily is never out of reach, Dick has breakfast with Bruce and Alfred to tell them about his life and his new found love, and Dick is respectful of his exes who he still has very amicable relationships with. Neither of which have issues with each other or with the idea of Dick having a new romantic entanglement. These were things the original Nightwing series either messed up or neglected to do for years into the series. Also, next to being a police officer, being a gymnastics instructor for kids is easily one of my favorite jobs for Dick so bringing that back, as well as bringing back Orca as an antagonist when her most “iconic” moments fighting Dick were from Dick’s preboot time as Batman tells me that Tim Seeley for his faults really does love Dick as a character and loves his history.

That being said, this is not deep intensive reading even for the most adamant of Dick fans. Nothing here feels OOC to me, for the Dick Grayson of “mine” and that I love, but so far we’re also playing it pretty safe. Dick’s real tests of character in my opinion have been the losing scenarios, the dark places he allows his temper and insecurities take him and block other people out or lash out at them, that self-blame that is a Grayson signature. The reason Dick’s light shines so bright is because he has to first battle through his own dark places to bring it out. And that’s what I think a lot of people find relatable about him. Though, given the cliffhanger, there’s a good chance that Vol. 3 will very much give an opportunity for that to be explored more.

Until then, this is pretty surface exploration. And you know, it honestly should be, because this is all about establishing Dick and his own city again.

…

Which makes it such a disappointment that the decision that got him there was from what was easily the weakest issue of Nightwing so far which was the Superman crossover that was like… trying to pull in the whole ‘you’re not my Superman’ ‘and you’re not my Nightwing but since we’re combining universes anyway let me give you a heads up as to where your character development’s going to take place next!”

Like. It was too weird. It just emphasizes how the paradox that is the Super Family’s folding into the DCU has been clunky but is finally done so we can all go back to never mentioning it out loud by name again.

The art was wonderful, it’s so nice to see Marcus To on a Nightwing — or really any Batfamily — book again. But I often found the coloring style for this book — faded with a lot of white space throughout — to be a little unfitting. The colors felt very soft when it might have served to make them more vibrant — especially when a major subplot involves one of the main supporting characters being an artist. But I guess washed out jeans is the style of the day in comics right now and I’ll just have to be grumpy about it and sepia tones in movies until something besides myself gives.

All in all I enjoyed this volume a lot and I’m glad I picked it up.

DC’s Super Sons (2016-present) #5 Peter J. Tomasi, Alisson Borges, HI-FI

There is nothing that has surprised me more than just how much I have enjoyed this title series that I wasn’t even going to pick up originally. By far this comic has done more to sell me on this new kid generation of superheroes at the DCU than almost anything else in the line right now. Which is saying something since, as most of you know, I love almost nothing more than superhero kids to begin with.

This issue is a bit of fallout and follow up from the last story arc, with both of the World’s Finest Kids dealing with being grounded. However of course neither of them can stick to the rules or to the idea of the fact that they’re growing on each other.

Y’know. Like moss.

In truth this budding friendship does exactly what it should — like Bruce and Clark’s first few years of being irritable and annoyed with each other before growing begrudging respect, trust, and genuine friendship.

I loved how real this felt to kid logic, and I enjoyed the art change up, but it didn’t feel like it’s going to effect the long term characterizations of the characters that much more than they already were heading into anyway, but in all honesty sometimes issues like these that reemphasize character growth usually in hindsight become my favorites to return to.

DC’s Superman (2016-present) #25 Patrick Gleason, Peter J. Tomasi, Doug Mahnke, Mick Gray, Jaime Mendoza, Wil Quintana

Alright so we finish the story, but the evil cow is still around in Hamilton and I feel like that’s pretty much the entirety of my recommendation for this storyline and comic in one. The evil cow that took down Batman is still around. The status quo that actually matters in the Superman comics are still in tact and thus I am very happy.

In a less flippant, more true reading of this comic, I’m kinda surprised by how… inconsequential this issue ended up making the entire storyline here. There’s a real feeling of weightlessness with all the revelations — there’s no repercussions to discovering the whole town was a lie, there’s no truth to Lois having her leg amputated and her having lasting disabilities, there’s not even a loss of friendship or trust between the revealed to be inhuman community and Jon and Clark. And now everyone’s in on their secret identities but it’s… okay? Everyone’s going to continue protecting them without reason.

It’s a very… strange way to go about everything with a story that was going pretty dark and edgy considering it was dealing with the Super Family. It all kind of feels toothless now.

And, really, it feels like ultimately Batman, Robin, Frankenstein, and the Bride’s inclusion in this storyline is kind of unnecessary clutter because Tomasi can’t seem to let go of his acclaimed Batman and Robin run and the weird crossover appeal he finds in those characters. Like I wouldn’t think twice if it’s just Batman and Robin because, one those are close relations, two there are other titles where they know each other already, three it’s been set up in the title previously. But the other Tomasi staples feel a little more ehhhh and don’t appeal to me personally.

Mostly I’m just kinda happy I can still say there’s an evil cow that took down Batman, and that’s all I really got from this storyline honestly. It’s been one of the weaker storylines of this run so far.

This wasn’t necessarily as much of a competition as I thought it was going to be at first. Super Sons is just such an entertaining and more importantly fun title among everything in my pull list and even if this issue isn’t initially soemthing that seems exceptional, it really just proves what all works about this series.

But that’s just my opinion, I’d love to know what you all think. Agree with me? Disagree? Think I should’ve picked up something I missed? I’d love to hear from you!

#Rena Roundups #SPOILERS #Wednesday Spoilers #Nightwing (2016 )#Mother Panic #Superman (2016 )#Super Sons (2016 )#Batwoman (2017 )#Mother Panic (2016 )

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