[ Luckily for Nick, DiMA does not sleep. He's at the labs tinkering away when his phone beeps, and answers promptly -- when he sees it's Nick calling he's happy for all of two seconds before actually hearing his brother's voice. His reply is characteristically gentle but concerned. ]
[It's something Nick would normally bury down with the rest of his grievances, but it's been a draining night for him, one he realizes he needs to open up about. It's all been boiling within him -- his frustrations with his position, with Rey, with Oscar, and now with Nate, and how to handle the situation they're all in and his inability to do a damn thing about it. There's a part of Nick that insists DiMA is a part of his stress; however, he's also the only one who might understand just how his mind operates -- figuratively and literally -- and just why it is he's buckling beneath it all.
Nick doesn't know, but he's certain of one thing: he wants a better relationship with his brother, and he'd better work on it before one of them ends up in pieces in the street. He's taken tentative steps so far, but given the fact they haven't spoken much since the exchange, it's always two steps forward, three steps back.
And more than that, it's always Nick who is pushing DiMA away, barricading himself behind the usual excuses. He's busy with work; he has a lot to focus on. They can deal with it when the case is done. That had worked out so well for Jenny, hadn't it?]
[ While normally DiMA would appreciate the candor, he's somewhat thrown off by the blunt "no" he gets from Nick at that question. Just how wrong do things need to be for his brother to make this sort of call? He frowns slightly, skeletal fingers curling tighter around his phone. Part of him is afraid of what it could be, but the rest needs to find out. To help, if he can. ]
Of course. Would you rather I meet you somewhere? We can go back to my apartment if this requires privacy.
I'm in spire one, apartment 701. I'll meet you there... you can let yourself in if you beat me, there's no lock.
[ He still sounds vaguely concerned, but something lightens in his voice at the apology. ]
It's all the same to us, isn't it? I'll see you soon, brother.
[ DiMA ends the call and goes about bundling up the project he's working on, just in case it turns out not to be as dire a conversation as he fears and he can show Nick what he's working on. As such, it takes him a little longer to get back to his spire... that and the newly difficult terrain in the darkness, but he does arrive as promised to find his brother standing awkwardly at the apartment door. Of course. He smiles slightly despite his concern and gestures to the door with his head, as he's got a bundle in his arms. ]
[As DiMA approaches, he might have noticed that while Nick was waiting for him at his door, his mind was a million miles away; he doesn't seem to even notice his brother is there until he's reached the landing. He looks toward the door.]
Oh, sure.
[Tucking his cigarette between his lips, he pushes the door open, stepping aside so DiMA can step through and set whatever it is he's got with him down. Despite the fact that Nick is the one who called DiMA, he immediately -- reflexively, in a way -- sets about distancing himself from what's really on his mind.]
[ The bundle in DiMA's arms is angular and heavy-seeming, and settles on the table with a soft clunk. He leaves it wrapped in the plain fabric he carried it in, though, not yet addressing what he's brought home. ]
Not always at the labs, but yes. Often.
[ He straightens up and turns towards the other synth, cutting through the small talk. ]
What's wrong, Nick? What is it you wanted to discuss?
[And that's where Nick hesitates. He gives his brother only one more glance before his eyes settle themselves elsewhere in the room, anywhere but DiMA's face. He takes a long drag on that cigarette, catering to some psychological need for the familiar, the expected -- for how he wants to be perceived rather than how he is. There's still dried blood on his bare hand, the color mingling with the rust and corrosion that coats his skeletal fingers.]
I had to call a woman tonight to tell her I'd found her husband dead. Maybe he'll come back, maybe he won't, but... it got me doing some heavy thinking. It's not like I haven't watched people die here, but this one hit close to home. He's from Boston, been working with me on a few projects.
[And he's dead, for now. Was it because of the gods? Or something else? Was his association with Nick what got him killed? These are questions Nick isn't sure he wants the answers to just yet, not when he's barely keeping it together beneath his synthetic skin.]
[ Oh no. DiMA's face crumples with sympathy, and he wonders if he knows this man -- it's not that big a city after all, even if he doesn't have many friends. ]
A friend... I'm so sorry, Nick. I hope he'll be returned to us soon.
[ He does have to wonder why Nick is confiding in him, rather than one someone closer to him, but certainly isn't arguing it. ]
No. There's not a damn thing anyone can do. Seems to be a real trend lately.
[Especially with Nick himself in regards to what he can do for the city, particularly for the friends and family he's made there. He fiddles with the cigarette between his rusted fingers.]
Guess I just... wanted someone to talk to. Wanted to try to know you better while I can. I haven't made much time for it like I said I would. Every time I meant to do it, I kept putting it off for one reason or another. Hell, we haven't even spoken at length since the exchange.
[That one he had been very insistent DiMA not go on, and with good reasons he wouldn't entirely explain.]
[ And as they are, he's lost so many friends. It's the nature of existence, DiMA tries to tell himself, but it still aches. He watches Nick fiddle with his cigarette, that sign of his past humanity, and doesn't quite know what to say. But then his brother continues. ]
Oh. You seemed... almost angry with me for insisting on going, I thought it best to give you space. But my sense of time is not a human one. I'm sorry if I waited too long to reach out.
They hadn't, but things didn't add up. Delight didn't have much to offer them at that point, not since she'd betrayed us and been under lock and key. If they wanted her as a battery, why not just keep Tranquility? And given what they found in those bunkers, that lab and the experiments—
[He feels himself getting riled up just thinking about it; he grinds his teeth, reeling it in.]
They didn't want Tranquility, and they didn't want Delight. They wanted Fear so we couldn't run, and they wanted a group of us to use against the others.
[ And he does understand the logic there, though Nick hadn't explained at the time. If he'd said such things to everyone, perhaps the outcome would have been different... DiMA privately believes that the loss of Delight was for the best out of the three gods it could have been, but understanding the risk now... hmm.
Unfortunately for Nick, that just makes him double down on his question. ]
But it begs the question again: why would you volunteer to go? The city needs you.
[He avoids DiMA's eyes once more, the smoke in his hand shaking as his hand trembles.]
Someone like us needed to go. [He'd insisted that then, and he does so again now.] I'm the one who's supposed to be leading the Guard, setting the example of what we do for this city. I'm the one who's been in Hadriel long enough to build a life here, one that's mine,, and no one else's.
[Too close. He pulls in a breath, bringing his cigarette back to his lips. The city doesn't need him so much as he needs it, and everyone he's come to know because of it.]
And I know how that sounds. That should've been a good enough reason for me to not go, but I couldn't stand the thought of you or Oscar or anyone else dying because I didn't go. It had to be me.
[Nick puts some thought into that question, his brow knitting tightly.]
We've got a fella working on a bunker of our own. Something for defense, for people who can't fight to go when things get rough. They'll need people there who can help keep the peace, reassure them that we'll be fine. And most importantly, people who aren't afraid to keep them safe. Maybe the Null will stop at the door and you can try to talk some sense into them, but if they don't...
[He takes another drag, not happy with what he's suggesting, but knowing it's necessary.]
[ Hmm. DiMA considers that, a defensive role as protector of those who can't fight... it may well suit him. He's likely too fragile to engage the Null in full combat, but... ]
I own no weapons. Starscream once mentioned rectifying that, but he's since disappeared. Maybe with the technology available, I could build myself something I'm familiar with.
[ Actually! ]
Speaking of building things... I have something for you, Nick.
[Nick doesn't even think about that, his answer immediate; if nothing else, DiMA will have his. The fact DiMA has something for him gives him pause, though.]
That takes a weapon out of the hand of someone who could use it in battle... I'm capable of building a plasma weapon, Nick, it's alright.
[ DiMA smiles again at the question, shaking his head. He actually sounds... a little nervous, as he gestures towards the bundle he's brought home. ]
You do need some repairs, but no. It will need to be encrypted if you accept it, but it's already functional. I've built you your own memory bank. [ And because he knows Nick will probably protest -- ] You don't necessarily have to offload anything to make space, as I do. But it could serve as a backup, should you be damaged or just worried about losing something in particular. Please consider it, brother.
[ He reaches out and unwraps the fabric from the bank, so Nick can see. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I'm here, Nick. Are you alright?
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[It's something Nick would normally bury down with the rest of his grievances, but it's been a draining night for him, one he realizes he needs to open up about. It's all been boiling within him -- his frustrations with his position, with Rey, with Oscar, and now with Nate, and how to handle the situation they're all in and his inability to do a damn thing about it. There's a part of Nick that insists DiMA is a part of his stress; however, he's also the only one who might understand just how his mind operates -- figuratively and literally -- and just why it is he's buckling beneath it all.
Nick doesn't know, but he's certain of one thing: he wants a better relationship with his brother, and he'd better work on it before one of them ends up in pieces in the street. He's taken tentative steps so far, but given the fact they haven't spoken much since the exchange, it's always two steps forward, three steps back.
And more than that, it's always Nick who is pushing DiMA away, barricading himself behind the usual excuses. He's busy with work; he has a lot to focus on. They can deal with it when the case is done. That had worked out so well for Jenny, hadn't it?]
Can we talk?
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Of course. Would you rather I meet you somewhere? We can go back to my apartment if this requires privacy.
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[Which means Nick isn't picky. There's a pause.]
Sorry to call you up like this, so early in the morning.
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[ He still sounds vaguely concerned, but something lightens in his voice at the apology. ]
It's all the same to us, isn't it? I'll see you soon, brother.
[ DiMA ends the call and goes about bundling up the project he's working on, just in case it turns out not to be as dire a conversation as he fears and he can show Nick what he's working on. As such, it takes him a little longer to get back to his spire... that and the newly difficult terrain in the darkness, but he does arrive as promised to find his brother standing awkwardly at the apartment door. Of course. He smiles slightly despite his concern and gestures to the door with his head, as he's got a bundle in his arms. ]
Would you be so kind?
no subject
Oh, sure.
[Tucking his cigarette between his lips, he pushes the door open, stepping aside so DiMA can step through and set whatever it is he's got with him down. Despite the fact that Nick is the one who called DiMA, he immediately -- reflexively, in a way -- sets about distancing himself from what's really on his mind.]
You usually work this late?
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Not always at the labs, but yes. Often.
[ He straightens up and turns towards the other synth, cutting through the small talk. ]
What's wrong, Nick? What is it you wanted to discuss?
no subject
I had to call a woman tonight to tell her I'd found her husband dead. Maybe he'll come back, maybe he won't, but... it got me doing some heavy thinking. It's not like I haven't watched people die here, but this one hit close to home. He's from Boston, been working with me on a few projects.
[And he's dead, for now. Was it because of the gods? Or something else? Was his association with Nick what got him killed? These are questions Nick isn't sure he wants the answers to just yet, not when he's barely keeping it together beneath his synthetic skin.]
no subject
A friend... I'm so sorry, Nick. I hope he'll be returned to us soon.
[ He does have to wonder why Nick is confiding in him, rather than one someone closer to him, but certainly isn't arguing it. ]
Is there anything I can do for you?
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No. There's not a damn thing anyone can do. Seems to be a real trend lately.
[Especially with Nick himself in regards to what he can do for the city, particularly for the friends and family he's made there. He fiddles with the cigarette between his rusted fingers.]
Guess I just... wanted someone to talk to. Wanted to try to know you better while I can. I haven't made much time for it like I said I would. Every time I meant to do it, I kept putting it off for one reason or another. Hell, we haven't even spoken at length since the exchange.
[That one he had been very insistent DiMA not go on, and with good reasons he wouldn't entirely explain.]
no subject
[ And as they are, he's lost so many friends. It's the nature of existence, DiMA tries to tell himself, but it still aches. He watches Nick fiddle with his cigarette, that sign of his past humanity, and doesn't quite know what to say. But then his brother continues. ]
Oh. You seemed... almost angry with me for insisting on going, I thought it best to give you space. But my sense of time is not a human one. I'm sorry if I waited too long to reach out.
Would you like to sit?
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I was angry, DiMA. We were walking into a trap, and I knew it.
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Then if you were so concerned for my well being, why not your own? Everyone I spoke to said the Null had never been deceptive before.
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[He feels himself getting riled up just thinking about it; he grinds his teeth, reeling it in.]
They didn't want Tranquility, and they didn't want Delight. They wanted Fear so we couldn't run, and they wanted a group of us to use against the others.
no subject
[ And he does understand the logic there, though Nick hadn't explained at the time. If he'd said such things to everyone, perhaps the outcome would have been different... DiMA privately believes that the loss of Delight was for the best out of the three gods it could have been, but understanding the risk now... hmm.
Unfortunately for Nick, that just makes him double down on his question. ]
But it begs the question again: why would you volunteer to go? The city needs you.
no subject
Someone like us needed to go. [He'd insisted that then, and he does so again now.] I'm the one who's supposed to be leading the Guard, setting the example of what we do for this city. I'm the one who's been in Hadriel long enough to build a life here, one that's mine,, and no one else's.
[Too close. He pulls in a breath, bringing his cigarette back to his lips. The city doesn't need him so much as he needs it, and everyone he's come to know because of it.]
And I know how that sounds. That should've been a good enough reason for me to not go, but I couldn't stand the thought of you or Oscar or anyone else dying because I didn't go. It had to be me.
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I'm sorry I insisted. I thought I could be helpful, but the situation was not quite what I believed it to be.
[ He has perhaps an even worse question next, though. ]
When the Null return, what can I do?
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We've got a fella working on a bunker of our own. Something for defense, for people who can't fight to go when things get rough. They'll need people there who can help keep the peace, reassure them that we'll be fine. And most importantly, people who aren't afraid to keep them safe. Maybe the Null will stop at the door and you can try to talk some sense into them, but if they don't...
[He takes another drag, not happy with what he's suggesting, but knowing it's necessary.]
Well, I know you'll do what you have to.
no subject
I own no weapons. Starscream once mentioned rectifying that, but he's since disappeared. Maybe with the technology available, I could build myself something I'm familiar with.
[ Actually! ]
Speaking of building things... I have something for you, Nick.
no subject
[Nick doesn't even think about that, his answer immediate; if nothing else, DiMA will have his. The fact DiMA has something for him gives him pause, though.]
For me? It's not a new hand, is it?
no subject
[ DiMA smiles again at the question, shaking his head. He actually sounds... a little nervous, as he gestures towards the bundle he's brought home. ]
You do need some repairs, but no. It will need to be encrypted if you accept it, but it's already functional. I've built you your own memory bank. [ And because he knows Nick will probably protest -- ] You don't necessarily have to offload anything to make space, as I do. But it could serve as a backup, should you be damaged or just worried about losing something in particular. Please consider it, brother.
[ He reaches out and unwraps the fabric from the bank, so Nick can see. ]