Fallout-Atom Bomb Baby (1x1 with Lucyfer)

[Halani]

Nick sat idly at his desk as he sorted through the latest batch of small-town cases, mostly petty disputes. If there was one thing in his life that he was happy over, it was how predictable the residents of Diamond City could be. One moment it's Moe screaming that some down on his luck sod stole his entire supply of swatters, when in reality he had been too intoxicated at the Dugout Inn, as a scav ran off with them. Or the paranoid shop owner scouring the streets for synths, and immediately claimed he was spying for the Institute the moment they met. Honestly, he was occasionally tempted to play along, after decades of the same ridiculous game with these people, he tended to be an expert on placating them. Heaving back a heavy sigh, he adjusted the rim of his fedora as he turned his attention to Ellie. "Well, Ell, I think it'll be a good time to close the agency soon, see if you can get a wink of sleep, eh?" He drawled softly with an amused smile, his eerie golden eyes exuding a warmth beyond his clear robotic nature. The chair squeaked in protest as he rolled it to the other side of the office, the mess of papers growing increasingly more chaotic. He was typically organized, but Ellie was his saving grace with his tendency to forget the smaller details.

Ellie couldn't help but snort in amusement in his attention to shoo her away. "Ah, Nicky, you can't get rid of me that easy. We still have an hour left, and you can bet someone will wander in the second you want to shut this place down." She tossed a pencil at the snarky synth, completely missing the mark as it sailed over his head. Nick raised his hands in a placating gesture, not willing to argue with his secretary, she was one of the most stubborn women he had the pleasure of crossing paths with. Dang sassy dames, at the very least he enjoyed the banter. "Alright, alright, but I'm serious on you taking a break, alright?" He pointed at her in mock callout, causing the woman to finally acquiesce to his demands, albeit reluctantly.

Two Months Earlier

Juliet stumbled through the war-torn streets as she scrambled to hide behind the charred remains of a car, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest as she covered her mouth. The mutated creatures grunted as they stormed off, their prey out of sight, and apparently out of mind. Her once neatly combed black hair was frayed from sprinting through the streets, having been chased by monstrous humanoids armed with weapons. To any wastelander, these were simply Super Mutants, a terrifying, but average part of living in the wasteland. To Juliet, it felt as if she was in a nightmare. Mere moments ago, the bombs had dropped, with her having been one of the many trapped within the recesses of Vault 103, as the living world was ravaged by the nuclear bomb. Yet here she was, having collapsed out of what she had initially thought to be a decontamination pod, in the middle of an abandoned vault. With what little bearings she had gathered, she had fled the shelter looking for her husband, for anyone. Her pip boy baffled her, as she tapped on the date. It couldn't be right, the dammed thing must be glitched.

A bastion awaited her ahead, a sign of civilization, and glowing lights loomed ahead. Desperation overwhelming her, she raced towards the gated community, forcibly shoving the door open as she stumbled into the safety of the community. Collapsing onto her knees, she didn't see the leering stares of the men and women in front of her, one seeming particularly irate that another stranger had stumbled onto their doorstep. "Eh! You, the hell you think you're doing, barging into our community like that?" He sneered, circling the delirious woman like a vulture. She was certainly easy pickings for any experienced mercenary.

 

[Lucyfer]

Diamond City was far from the largest settlement that Nevaeh had seen in her life. Really, it was on the comfortable side, although she suspected that was due to just how vast the Commonwealth was. Settlements sprawled throughout it, and she’d helped create a few, back when the Minutemen were, well, operating.

That had fallen through only a year after her arrival to the Commonwealth.

It was two years since then, and Nevaeh was finally stricken by, well, the past. Her past, and the Old World. Rumor spoke of a songstress who’s work was kept in Vault 103, but Nevaeh was no good at tracking things down.

So, that led her to Diamond City, home of the detective known as Nick Valentine – a synth, or so rumor had it. Nevaeh wasn’t sure how to feel about synths, though anymore, she tended to give non-humans more credit than some likely deserved. The Enclave had taught her that they ought to be purging non-humans, and they’d been wrong.

Terribly wrong.

Still, the old teachings hung on, and they kept her guards up as she found the glowing heart in the darkness and approached the building. She wasn’t sure if she ought to knock, or just open the door, but ended up trying the door to see if it would open.

It did, and she slipped inside, “Hey, is anyone—oh!” she jolted a bit as her own green eyes fell on a set of glowing yellow ones.

‘I thought synths looked human!’

She didn’t say as much, and tried to recover herself, “Sorry—not sure what I expected. Are you Valentine?”

~***~

Goodneighbor was thriving. It’d been five years since their leader, John Hancock, had bothered to visit Diamond City, though he heard plenty of rumors from the traders and travelers through Goodneighbor. It was starting to drive him mad, though. The ghoul had gone on ventures from Goodneighbor in that time, but with talk increasing about synths, he was just getting…anxious.

He felt like he didn’t know enough about what was going on outside of the walls of his city.

It’s no doubt what led him to take a walk through the city streets, “Hey, don’t worry about it. I got plenty,” he said as he gave an older woman a wink while handing off a bit of jet to her. It was his drug of choice. Some said it gave them a certain extra sight.

Hancock couldn’t say it did all that for him, but it felt like everything slowed down for a while, and that sort of trip felt like time travel.

He was winding his way to go visit his favorite, murderous assaultron, when he caught sight of a group loitering near the gates, and some woman in a vibrant blue vault suit who had just stumbled in – and threatening her.

‘Ah for fuck’s sake.’

“Tommy!” Hancock called out to the mercenary as he approached, “didn’t know I hired any additional watchmen for Goodneighbor. Thought I couldn’t afford your rates,” he joked, walking into the group that started to disperse.

“Hancock—what’s it to you? We’re all just trying to keep Goodneighbor safe.”

“Oh, I’m sure this woman who looks like she just stumbled out of a vault is a huge threat, isn’t she?” He patted Tommy’s arm, “What’s your name?” he asked her, putting on as charming a smile as he could, given his irradiated face. His fingers clenched down into Tommy’s arm so he couldn’t just slide away.

 

[Halani]

Nick's eerie golden gaze immediately flicked to the newcomer; a wry grin plastered on his face at her visibly baffled expression at his bizarre appearance. Shifting in his desk chair, he lifted himself up slowly, his larger frame unfurling from the torn furniture. "Ah, don't worry about it, isn't the first time someone had to take a double take at my ugly mug." He stated smugly, as he found himself often amused by sheer variety of visceral reactions he trigged in the local populace. "Frankly, you're rather dang polite, considering you coulda shot me on sight." His tone hadn't changed, except for the slightest hint of a playful lit to his voice.

Ellie had to hold herself back from making a snide remark at Nick's expense, purely due to the customer in front of them. She decided to let Nick take over, but she gestured to her desk at the two raggedy chairs lingering in the front lobby if she needed a seat. Nick strolled over to the potential client, his eyes quickly flicking over her, as if sizing her up. "Well, beyond me spooking ya, I am Nick Valentine, a pleasure to meet ya. So, how can I help you?" He raised his hand, the thin synthetic skin having long worn away on it, leaving only metallic fingers in its place.

***

Juliet was struggling to catch her breath as the grime covered mercenary seemed intent on accosting her. Her adrenaline spiked at the man stepped closer, as she forced herself into a wobbly position of standing on her already shaky legs. She was ready to bolt back out that door, survival be dammed. She wouldn't be the victim of some power-hungry male again, never again. That was, until someone new decided to intervene. Her hands flew to her mouth to keep from screaming, half of his flesh seemed to have melted off what was once his face, as if radiation had burnt it away in seconds. "I-I.....Your face, are you alright? W-What happened?" She screamed at herself internally for asking such a rude question, though her faculties were lacking in her moment of panic.

Tommy snorted, trying to yank his arm free from Hancock's grip. "See? This fucking chick can't even respect the mayor of Good neighbor himself." He sneered at Juliet, who was growingly increasingly pissed. He kept trying to reach for his switchblade, though no one could ever claim Tommy as an intellectual individual, not by a long shot. Shaking slightly from exhaustion, Juliet managed to stumble through introducing herself. "J-Juliet..my name is Juliet." She took a step back from the pair, her lips trembling as she struggled to gather her thoughts.

 

[Lucyfer]

‘If I was still Enclave, I would have shot you.’ Nevaeh wasn’t going to mention that as Nick Valentine took her reaction in stride. She managed a slightly bashful smile, still embarrassed by her reaction even if he was apparently used to it.

He had that in common with the ghouls, but at least Nevaeh had gotten used to ghouls.

“Thank you,” she said to Ellie as they were gestured towards a seat, and she walked to it, but didn’t immediately sit as Nick approached, and offered his hand.

She took it, the shock over, for the most part. Metal hands was a new one, but not a shock now, “I’m Nevaeh Lysander,” she introduced, “I was told you’re the person to come to if I’m looking for someone, and I am. Juliet Roberts. I got wind that she was in a Vault in this area, 103, but I’m no good with machines, and I’m not sure where that Vault actually is, either. I was hoping to enlist your help.”

Never mind that Juliet was most certainly dead, and all Nevaeh actually wanted was the music rumored to be in that vault. Nick probably wouldn’t do a job just for some music.

~***~

Oh yeah. This lady was fresh from the Vault, to ask about his face. Hancock cocked a bit of a smile at the obvious concern, and the following embarrassment, from Juliet. He could see the way Tommy flexed his fingers towards his knife, and almost rolled his eyes at it. He didn’t, had to play the façade a little longer.

“Juliet,” he said, “well, I’m no Romeo,” half the people weren’t going to get that old world reference, as he slid his hand down Tommy’s arm and grabbed the knife just as Tommy’s fingers touched it. “More of a Mercutio character,” he gave what might have been a winning smile, if it weren’t for his face, and put the knife straight through Tommy’s chest.

“And you need to learn to recognize what respect is. The lady was concerned for me – that was sweet,” he tsked, “unlike you.”

Tommy gurgled, “F-fuck—you.” Blood spilled over his lips, and Hancock let him fall to the ground.

“KL-E-0! Think you can do something with this one?” he called back, half-turning towards the shops, where the assaultron began to leave her shop.

“Mmm, I think he’ll make a nice dummy…for a short while.” She had a weirdly sultry voice for an assaultron, but Hancock was hardly mad at it.

“Sorry about that, didn’t want him pulling that knife on you like he was reaching for,” Hancock turned back towards her, “I’m John Hancock – everyone just calls me Hancock. Mayor of Goodneighbor. I’m guessing you have no idea what’s going on in the world, do ya?”

 

[Halani]

Nick quickly waved off her abashed reaction easily, not holding it against the newcomer. A part of him felt as if she was withholding something deeper judging by her rigidity upon seeing him, as something obviously unnerved her about him. Brushing it aside, he welcomed her with a slight smirk. "Well, regardless. Welcome to Valentine's Detective Agency." He gestured widely across the office, the material of his trench coat wrinkling with the movement. He knowingly decided to not comment on her continuing to stand and her brief hesitation to shake his hand. Not as if he blamed the girl, he wasn't exactly the most welcoming sight at first glance, as amusing as it typically was.

His attention shifted to her fully as he tapped a pen against his clipboard, pondering over the details of her request. It was rather unusual, as the name Juliet Roberts run a bell in his faded memory banks. Some prewar jazz singer and model, likely long dead from either the nuclear war, or one of the many feral ghouls lining the streets of Boston. Hell, he wouldn't lie and say he wasn't intrigued by this client's proposal. He leaned forward as he perused through the details of the journey. "As you can likely tell, machines don't pose an issue for me, and I am aware of the vault's location...I'd say I'm up for pursuing your request." He patiently waited; his yellow eyes fixed on her as he awaited further comment from the mysterious woman in front of him.

***
Juliet balked slightly to his reference to Shakespearian literature in the midst of this conflict, this burned man was inflating her confusion to new heights she never experienced in her life. "I...Mecurtio is always a noble character." She commented shakily, confirming her knowledge of the tragic story and sonnet. Though within the next few seconds, her regained composure completely shattered as the man plunged the knife into Tommy without hesitation.

She stumbled back as her hands flew to her mouth, forcibly holding back a scream. The acrid stench of blood overwhelmed her senses, making her extremely nauseous as she took rapid steps back from the man she now knew as Hancock. She quickly raised her hands in placating gesture, halfway fearing he would turn it into her. "I..I...alright Hancock, I-I don't want to cause you any trouble." She nervously breathed out, quickly realizing it wasn't 2077 anymore, not by a long shot. "I-I don't, the last thing I remember was the bombs dropping..and being sealed in a chamber in Vault 103." She explained weakly, knowing she didn't have much proof unless she dragged this founding father esque figure to the offending vault herself.

 

[Lucyfer]

Nick Valentine didn’t seem to have any qualms with the idea. He knew the location of the vault already, so that would certainly save time – and likely a few caps – in hunting it down. Of course, that also may have meant the vault wasn’t exactly safe; most known vaults became known because the doors opened.

That was rarely a good thing for the inhabitants, or the things within.

“I was hopeful the machines wouldn’t give you any trouble. That was the rumor,” Nevaeh said with a bit of a smile, “When do you have time?” she wasn’t sure how immediate this could begin, “and what’s the price for this kind of job?” she knew it wasn’t free, but services like this were rarely just handing over caps and getting it done with.

Time and effort had to be calculated.

~***~

Hancock wouldn’t have called Mercutio a noble character with the way he and Tybalt fought, but he just snorted at Juliet’s attempt to be polite in this very impolite situation. Hancock put the knife in one of his pockets. He didn’t plan to keep it, but he also didn’t want one of these idiots to take hold of it, either, as KL-E-0 approached to help deal with body removal.

“Huh,” her story was a new one. He hadn’t heard of any vaults that could lock people away in time, “Guess you might be older than some of the ghouls here, just without the experience,” shame. “It’s 2277 – a lot’s changed,” he didn’t know from firsthand experience, but he did know from what others told him.

Namely, those other ghouls.

“You’re in Goodneighbor, and despite how some of our faces look, it’s not a bad spot. We do deal with crime a bit more…personally out here,” he gave a bit of a smirk, “but there’s still opportunity for a non-violent gal like yourself. C’mon. I’ll set you up in the hotel for a couple days, and you can figure some things out. Introduce you to Daisy later – good gal, from your time, can’t stop talking about the damned library.”

 

[Halani]

Nick quirked a non-existent brow as he patiently let the woman ponder on her contracted request. The old detective wouldn't lie and say he wasn't intrigued by the idea of diving into prewar vaults, perhaps an old-world view left behind of his brain scan. He certainly couldn't fully recall and didn't care to dwell on it too deeply. It certainly was a rare request, as most went after him to investigate run of the mill cases, affairs, theft, murder, and the usual like.

This was surprisingly refreshing, and he didn't see any reason as to not accept her case. Beyond Ellie's typical fussing of him needing to be more cautious, of course.

At her words, he let out a soft chuckle despite himself. "You were correct in that assumption; those machines won't pose a problem. Would be concerning if I ended up failing at the one other thing, I'm good at." He tipped his hat slightly at her, always appreciative that his reputation occasionally preceded him. Though he did have to wonder, what did she desire the tapes for? Ah, well, part of customer confidentiality, he supposed. "Ah..I'd say in about three days, you happened to catch me at a slower period. I'd say it run ya about...400 caps, but I'll run ya a discount as you're a first-time customer. Let's say, 325? Sound agreeable?" He flashed her a welcoming smile as he usually did for his newer clients.

***

Juliet truthfully didn't have time to properly express her views about Mercutio nor the story of Romeo and Juliet within the short timeframe of seeing someone murdered right in front of her. Her heart pounded as she swallowed dryly, her spent lungs begging for water. Her nerves were frayed enough as she waited to see if this character decided to be more charitable to her than he was to Tommy.

Her tense posture relaxed visibly as he listened to her story, despite how much she doubted he bought the story. "2-2277? I... god." She let out a weak laugh, having a mild existential crisis as she slowly forced herself to come to terms with her reality. She could panic later, or else she would likely end up as dead as that mercenary. Taking a heavy breath, she began to walk with the man who indirectly saved her life. "I...Thank you. You're being incredibly kind, considering everything." She slipped out, as her eyes scanned the streets of Goodneighbor. It was going to be a hell of a time for her to get adjusted to anything in the nuked hellscape that was once her home. Her gaze lingered on the Hotel Rexford, a vague memory flashing in her mind briefly as she pushed it aside, she couldn't think of him, not now. She nervously fiddled with her wedding ring. nearly ready to toss it.