#orustedheart

[likemosaic]

@o-rusted-heart.

the bright lights of "diamond city" are hard to miss as they approach, but joss mostly misses when you went there for a game and a hot dog. not grocery shopping, your public newspaper, weapon repair...so on and so forth. getting searched before walking into a baseball diamond wasn't what they had on their apocalyptic bingo card, either. or all these humanoid robots.

this model is far beyond any assaultron in baker's day, that's for sure, though it's in rough shape. and it (he?) doesn't respond to commands, either. joss wonders who programmed "valentine" to dodge questions about its designation like it did back in the vault. mostly, finds it an impressive work of technology, if a little infuriatingly too human.

once they've passed through diamond city's security and headed for the steps, joss gets worried the 'bot might get lost on the way home. that can happen. they stop it with a hand on the arm, gently so as not to damage anymore of the skin fabric. "can you navigate in your current condition?" there are some things a machine can do better, provided all is up to standard, and direction is usually one.

[wastelandwanderin]

@o-rusted-heart (continued from x)

He tried to wait. He really did.

The problem was that this area was fucking infested with feral ghouls, and while Nick was hardier than the average human being, Sugihara was loathe to let his new partner out of his sight for long--he was the first steady supply of caps Sugihara had ever had, after all.

So, after about five minutes had elapsed, he followed Nick into the cemetary. Found him standing in front of one grave in particular, staring down at something in his hand. Sugihara hesitated, then closed the gap, coming to stand beside Nick.

"Sorry," he grunted, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Just wondering where you fucked off to."

He looked at the worn name on the tombstone.

LANDS.

Don't ask, he told himself, or you'll make it weird.

"You knew 'em?" he asked, making it weird.

[aviiatrix]

plotted main verse starter kellogg situation go brrr @o-rusted-heart

♘ ― the one thing she could recall about the first incident is that it felt like sleeping, as if she had not been conscious in her body at all. she woke up to the screaming, a knife in her hand, and a wounded ally look at her in horror as if she were the enemy they had been fighting just days prior. river had hoped anchorage was the last time she would ever have to feel like she had no control over herself, but the commonwealth she had once called home was now an unpredictable place.

she could at least recall the first punch she landed, the initial rage that filled her veins like a vile, stinging venom making her blood run cold the moment her sister's name left his mouth. it was as if she blinked and once she opened her eyes, she was right back where it all started. river could hear someone calling her name, hands frantically pulling her back from something as she struggled fiercely against their hold.

had he not snapped her out of her trance, she was certain she would have turned on him too. the guilt of that alone settled deep and heavy in the pit of her stomach when she stared at the scene before her. the mercenary had been reduced to a gory mess, barely even recognizable and the evidence of what she had done was painted across her clothing like a canvas.

❝ nick did... did i? i hurt you didn't i? ❞ her voice was barely audible, coming out in nothing but a quivering whisper. she felt the familiar stinging of her eyes and the burning of bile in the back of her throat that she had force down as tears began pooling and threatening to spill over. ❝ oh― oh my god. f-fuck. jesus fucking christ. ❞ she looked at her powerfist, eyes widening as she began trying to take it off amidst her panic.

it hit the floor with a thud, loud enough to make her flinch and she stumbled back away from her companion's hand as if every touch burned against her skin. it wasn't until her back hit one of the rusted old desks that she stopped and a shaky breath escaped from her bruised, trembling lips. her hands desperately rubbed at the crimson fluid covering her arms to try and get it off, but it only smeared against her pale skin like a stain and caused her more panic.

❝ i did it again. i'm so s-sorry. ❞ all she could so was mutter apologies, her breathing quickening and becoming no less calm as she couldn't tear her eyes from what she had done.

[catmanradio]

@o-rusted-heart​

He's just... absolutely covered in mud. Nick looks as unhappy as he is stinky.

"So a Mirelurk tried to drown me. That was neat."

/

Cary held the rifle in his hands, a cigarette hanging from his lip, frowning in half concern and half disgust at Nick covered in the mud of the river. The mirelurk was dead. The cats would be real fucking happy about that soon. He knew it was dangerous being so close to the river. 3 of his 4 beloved cats had the scars to prove it. So did he. But he couldn’t leave Michael. And besides, he actually liked it here, holed up in his fortified shack, his holo collection, his mess of wires and cables to broadcast from the nearby satellite tower. It had taken him weeks to work all that up and be discreet about it.

Nick visited him. Cary didn’t need to go anywhere. He was careful enough. And he knew Nick... usually... was careful enough about being followed.

“If I spray you down with a hose are you gonna short circuit?”

[shieldslingera]

@o-rusted-heart liked

"I’m not just sitting around weeping into my tea cup and looking at my scrapbooks."

[courier2lw]

@o-rusted-heart​

"Ugh. My back hurts."

Unbeknownst to him, there is a knife sticking out of it.

/

“Well, you can feel pain. That’s cool. Hold still...” West kept his tone light. It wasn’t the worst thing to have stuck in you. He wondered how he’d repair this kind of skin though... Something told him a needle and thread was possibly going to do more harm than good.

He held Nick’s back, using the other had to ease the knife out. Hopefully it wasn’t hitting any wires. Hopefully he wasn’t doing any worse damage by taking it out. West showed him the big bowie knife that had been causing his trouble.

“You weren’t sleeping on this thing, were you?”

[tugsheartstrings]

[ 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 ] from @o-rusted-heart to Isaac!

[ 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 ] : sender carries injured receiver to safety.

Isaac should’ve figured Nick would be strong as shit. He was a synth, outdated and damaged or not, and he carried Isaac like he weighed nothing.

Isaac moved his hand away from the deep slash across his middle. Blood seeped thickly from it, inky in the red-hot evening light. He quickly replaced his hand to try to staunch the blood flow.

“Fuck,” he mumbled.

[intoknives]

@o-rusted-heart said: ‘ hate runs deep here. deeper than the soil. ’

SOME THINGS, IT SEEMS, SIMPLY NEVER CHANGE. if there's hatred in the foundations of the commonwealth, it's been there since before the war. before even nora's time, perhaps. but even in the midst of bigotry, hate, and violence there will always be people fighting against it. people standing up for what's right. "aleksandr solzhenitsyn said the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being." if she hadn't believed that before her time in the army, she certainly did after. she certainly does now. "hate does run deep here. but that doesn't stop love from growing. i don't think anything could."

[avernusfuries]

Karlach tripped after Nick like a child that had been promised a pocketful of sweets. For the first time since she left Zariel's little band of bastards, she allowed herself to feel a little bit of hope. Well, since the engine started going haywire and she'd promised herself that she would never return to her.

She parked herself in the chair, and moved to unclip the scrap of leather holding up her top, just enough for her to sink a pointed talon into the crease where the door was and popped it open.

It did so with a sudden whoosh of heat, and very quickly the smell of sulphur grew ever stronger. Though used to the slight scent it gave off, even she could smell it, and her nose wrinkled.

"Couldn't make me feel self-conscious even if you really, really tried," Karlach countered with a grin. "Alright Nicky boy, work your magic."

Nick was always quick to reject reassurance like that about his appearance, but in the moment it seemed... appropriate. She sure as hell knew what it was like to be different, at least.

So Nick smiled and led her back down to the bottom of the Statehouse, where a few workbenches, chairs, and tool kits sat ready. The synth pulled the chain for the meager light in the room, led her to a chair, and turned to slide his coat off to leave in a neat pile on the workbench.

That metal hand of his extended in steel boning up his forearm, clearly visible as he rolled his sleeves up to the elbow: not human, and not trying to hide it. "Alright, then, park your tush, open your, uh... door."

"No need to feel self-conscious," Nick added with a little smirk, "I got one of those too."

[contrariian-archive]

        SHE’D NEVER WANTED TO COME back here; nora had left kellogg to rot in the depths of fort hagen, just like he’d left nate to rot in vault 111. but nick says they’ll need a piece of his brain, so here she is: crouched over the bloody mess that used to be conrad kellogg’s head, rolling up her sleeves.

        ‘ you know, i’m not a squeamish woman, ’  she comments as casually as she can while she reaches down into the remnants of her husband’s killer.  ‘ but this... this is pretty gross. ’  nora has applied tourniquets while under fire and been up to her elbows in the blood of dying men; she’s known the battlefield since she was seventeen. but combat medics usually don’t fish around in the shattered skulls of corpses.

         something glints amid the gray matter—something metallic.   ‘ interesting, ’  she murmurs more to herself than to nick, grasping the metal and pulling it—and the bit of brain it’s attached to—loose. nora settles back on her heels, holding up her find to nick.  ‘ think that’ll work?  looks like some kind of implant. ’

@o-rusted-heart liked for a fallout starter (accepting)

[spakonarchive]

It had been a perfectly lovely evening. Magnolia had sun a beautiful set, the drinks were bountiful, and all that hard work digging through the wreckage of the crashed plane had been worth its weight in iron and steel.

Yet Nick wasn’t entirely pleased with their hard work if his sullen demeanor was any indication. Things had been pleasant since their date in a basement in the middle of a radiation storm -- Nick was a friend, one she thought highly of. One who was helpful and didn’t mind the secrecy all too much, considering his line of work. Maybe he was just getting tired of her.

She worried he was, anyway. It was why she’d been flirting all the more. The slathering of apple butter growing more and more sincere as time carried on, even if it wasn’t so obvious to anyone, including her. She’d picked up a drink for him from the the bar and slid it in front of him as she returned to sit across from him, a martini for herself in hand.

“A bottle cap for your thoughts, Nick?”

@o-rusted-heart

[katathianhonor]

@o-rusted-heart​​  —  starter

❝  i am not welcome in your city, nick valentine.  ❞        it was a fact that the detective was most likely already aware of, but he felt the need to state it either way.        ❝  they’re not very welcoming of outsiders.  especially ones with green skin.  ❞

[catmanradio]

On Cary's doorstep is a bouquet of dried flowers, a pink heart-shaped card, and what looks like an old record-- an orchestral rendition of Peter and the Wolf. "One of my favorites. Maybe we can listen together. Music sounds better with you. -Nicky" (@o-rusted-heart)

“Nicky?” Cary called out, glancing at the card, being a fast reader before looking out towards the yard. He stepped a few feet out, over the items he had yet to inspect, hoping to see the synth somewhere. And not dead on the ground riddled with turret bullets or pieces of plate and rebarb from his junk launcher. Nick Valentine would find a way around... Cary went back to the door step, picking up the record with the flowers. He read the card again, shaking his head. He tried not to think too much about it. Just... Just Nick Valentine being a friend and celebrating the day his name hailed from...

He’d send him something back, the next time he ventured closer to a town or someone with a trustworthy face and needing a few caps.

[shieldslingera]

@o-rusted-heart liked for a starter

Radstorms were one of the few things he wasn't sure he'd ever get used to. Even the most smoggy days in New York were no comparison to the green-yellow hue that obfuscated everything, spelling danger and death for nearly anything that made the misfortune of getting caught up in it. Even in his enhanced state, Steve knew better than to wander out in this--with visibility so low, he could easily stumble into trouble, with little chance of backup coming his way until the storm blew over. So hunkering down was the best option, even if he knew his synth companion would be able to push on. Steve sat against one of the basement walls, rummaging briefly through his coat before producing a pack of playing cards. "Know any games?"

[cryochronism]

@o-rusted-heart​ said: “That is love, to give away everything, to sacrifice everything, without the slightest desire to get anything in return.” // MEME.

Is it just the contradictory side in her, that makes her want to rebuke the statement? Or is it that statement of his that hits a little too close to home, nudging against a thorn buried deep in her side; reminding her that it’s there, still there, not leaving any time soon. The pad of her thumb sweeps along a ring band, an action so miniscule it’s hardly even seen. 

She only stares at Nick now, wondering how much pain inspired him to say that. Does he picture Jennifer’s face just as she pictures Nhat’s? Or does he think of something else entirely - couples meeting ill-fortuned fates on one of his cases. The Nakano parents, grief stricken and waiting, wanting to know the fate of their daughter. What did Nick sacrifice for Jennifer? What did the Nakanos give up to know that Kasumi was safe and happy?

❝I don’t know, Nick.❞ She finally says. No argument this time. No repartee to be had. ❝Some days, I wish that love didn’t have to require losing something just to keep that.❞

[cheatdeathsarchive]

@o-rusted-heart​ sent: “You haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like.” -from Nick, Mojave Sunburn.

Nipton was feeling more and more like home. It wasn’t the agency back in Freeside, but out here they could see the stars a lot more clearly. Six didn’t realize how bad she’d missed them.

Houses were more livable. The bones and crosses on the streets had been gone so long Six only vaguely remembered what they looked like. The general store was back up, ready for the first stock of things that were on the way thanks to Cass. It meant they had more than earned a break. How long had it been since they’d sit out on a porch together, cigarette and drinks in hand as the radio played in the background? Too long, really. She’d missed this, too.

As Nick spoke, the Six’s laughter dissolved into giggles before fading off completely. The words warmed her heart at the same time made it ache just a touch. She had been distant in a sense -- throwing herself into work, not allowing herself any respite between recalibrating Yes Man and cleaning up the streets. She took Nick’s hand gently before bringing it up to her lips.

“Guess we just been kinda busy, huh?” Really, more like she’d been. It meant she had to re-evaluate her priorities. None of it meant anything if she couldn’t be sure Nick was at peace through it all. If seeing her smile made him look like that, then she’d have to do it more often.

Silently she slipped back into his lap, like she used to do all the time. She felt like smiling, and this time around for the first time in a long time she didn’t feel the onslaught of dread following behind it. No more promises of soon. She’d stalled long enough. It was time to live again. “Maybe it’d be worth expandin’ the agency -- a Nipton branch for all them NCR fellas who come through from the Outpost -- how does that sound?”