disrupts | NOCTIUM IC INBOX

Ahh, California. Nice weather out there. [The real Nick had been there on vacation once. He'd say so, but it feels disingenuous to actually claim memories that he knew full and well didn't belong to him.] Must be a new city, though, or a different version of California. I've never heard of it before.

[The small talk is doing some good, it seems. The less they dwell on how mega-dead V's going to be if they take too long, the better.]

I, ah... I expect the name's a bit misleading, and most folks'd find it a real dump. Built in the ruins of Fenway Park. Lots of people, running water, fairly reliable power, nice big walls and a security force. But that's all damn luxurious, comparatively. It's the safest place in the Commonwealth by far. And it's home.

[A beat.] Place I'm from is a bit of a mess, to say the least. Hopefully, yours is much nicer.

[ At the mention of the weather, V's lips tug into a more honest grin rather than a grimace. A smile despite their situation. Memories that he can rely on filter through his brain like snapshots of his past out on the open road. Weather'd been something to pay attention to, especially out in the Badlands. Getting ahead of a dust storm or finding somewhere to hunker down formed a large part of his former life.

He almost stumbles clean over what looks like a large sapphire jutting up out of the ground, his attention poured instead into their conversation instead of where he's stepping. Only after righting himself and shooting Nick a sideways sheepish glance do his thoughts return to the matter at hand.

Somebody not having heard of Night City, though. That's different, even for somebody across the stretch of expanse between California and Boston. Night City's infamous in ways it might wish it wasn't, a lot of the time. ]

Not really from anywhere. Thing 'bout bein' a nomad's home's just where your clan is. Not so much a place but... a feelin'.

But uh... things went south with my old clan. Ended up leavin' 'n headed for the city to make a name f'myself. City's a mess. Corpo nightmare. Whole place is run by a megacorp. Arasaka. They control the borders and a lot of what happens inside the city's boundaries.

Ahh. That old chestnut. [That actually doesn't sound nice at all, except in a different way.] Seems no matter the place or time, corporations find some way to muck everything up for everybody.

[At least there's no corporations in the wasteland, anymore. The Institute is the closest thing they've got and they're bad enough.

Nick has a few close calls of his own with the uneven ground and these weird crystals, so V is easily forgiven for a few stumbles.]

Radiation's going down, a little at a time. Should drop off in about half a mile. Just gotta keep going and you'll be just find.

Then I've got something in my pocket that might help, too, though RadX doesn't work so well when you're actively bathing in the glow.

[ Corporations - or, one very specific corporation - is responsible for the condition he's in now. He doesn't realize it, but when he laughs it sounds bitter. It's out of character for him, cold and icy in ways that he's usually warm.

What Arasaka can claim responsibility for is the not-so-slow degeneration of his life, of his freedom. He's still thinking on it as Nick speaks up again, something about another half mile to go and whatever cynical, done-with-the-world mood that's gotten caught up in V's neural network abates enough for him to nod a little. Fuck, he wishes Johnny was here. His head's pounding and he feels like his whole body's a giant weight that needs dragging onward, but he's still going. ]

RadX? Y'don't need it yourself?

[ Maybe it's a gonk-brained question, but V's nothing if not continually asking questions about the people around him in an attempt to learn more. ]

[Easy does it, one step at a time. They're gonna make it if Nick has to hoist V onto his back.

Which, uh... hopefully not, he's a bit rickety and the guy seems a little heavy to go testing these old limbs like that.]

Unfortunately, you typically need a bloodstream for medication to work. [Said with a little shrug.] Frankly, I'm supposed to be immune to radiation, so whatever this stuff is, it's... potent. But I'll be all right.

Organic parts aren't as easily replaced.

Not usually this much of a gonk, promise.

[ The statement is accompanied by a half smile, the realization that RadX is some kind of... stim shot, maybe, if it's got to go direct to the bloodstream. Makes sense it's not useful for this good samarian. ]

Where'm from, long as you got the scratch you can replace just about anythin'. My input's pretty chromed up.

[ Input, boyfriend. Same thing. And it's not like V isn't packed with tech himself, not that it seems to be doing him all that much good right now. As if on cue, his headache spikes again, slowing him to an almost standstill. Regardless he grits his teeth and tries to keep the conversation flowing. ]

'ppreciate it, but... I'm hopin' I'm not gonna... need it. Save it for somebody else.

[ The throbbing ache slips into something less jagged, and eventually he carries on not wanting to dwell on the obvious. ]

Where'd ya get it anyway? From home? Diamond City got a problem with radiation?

[He chuckles at that apology.] Hey, you're a little on the microwaved side, at the moment. I can understand a little malaise.

[Input... chrome... things the youth say these days, or something.]

Nonsense. I've got a whole bottle full. It'll bolster your system, keep the rads from doing you too much damage. The, ah... whole wasteland's got a bit of a radiation problem, let's say. I carry 'em around in case I run into somebody in trouble on the road, since they don't do me any good. [He's just this much of a good samaritan at home, too.]

Got a bottle of water on me too, but that's... probably glowing by now, unfortunately.

[ It really is something novel bumping into somebody who seems genuinely like they want to help, no strings attached. V couldn't be more messily grateful, and surprised. ]

How'd that happen? Rad problem, I mean.

[ The comment about the water is met with a soft exhale of air from his nose, amused at the phrasing at the very least.

He's thirsty, but drinking irradiated water's probably not going to help his already failing body. He might be confused and worse for wear but he'll never let go of his desire to survive. ]

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