NETWORK - Help Wanted/Offered

[outofthepast]

Who: Nick Valentine
Username: valentine
Warnings: Discussion of robot parts and the repair thereof, robot existentialism + objectification

Hey folks, it's Valentine here. Now that I've had a taste of nitty gritty fieldwork, I think it'd be prudent of me to take a few precautions. I'm looking for a good mechanic. And I'd prefer not to involve ADI at this point, so please don't suggest I just consult with the Technology department. Let's keep this one on one for now.

The parts are proprietary and you won't have seen them before, so I need a quick learner. Advanced experience is a plus, but I've done just fine with regular Joes and Jills up to this point. The absolute most important qualification, though, is that you let me buy you a drink and have a chat with you first. Amateur transhumanism philosophers need not apply, thanks.

I'm willing to either pay or trade what you think is fair. Favors, errands. Maybe I can teach you something.

You know what, let's make that a general offer. Even if you're not a mechanic, I'm happy to teach what skills I can to anybody interested. Want to learn to shoot a gun? Use a computer? Make a theory corkboard? Swing dance? Hit me up and let's make it a date.

Really, I can't stress enough how much extra time I've got on my hands.

Comments

[abrightboy]

Sounds delightful. When and where?

[outofthepast]

Entirely up to you. I'm still new to the neighborhood, and I also don't sleep.

[abrightboy]

Me either! Well, I do a little. There’s a coffee shop I like down the street from headquarters. I’d be happy to meet you there.

[outofthepast]

Sounds good to me.

Though I'd like to meet at HQ first, if that's all right, and we'll walk over there together.

[abrightboy]

Sounds good. Meet you outside the main entrance in twenty minutes?

[outofthepast]

You've got a date.

Action!

[outofthepast]

Nick stands leaning just inside the HQ entrance gate at the appointed time, casually smoking a cigarette. The smoke wafts gently through the cracks in his jaw and throat, and his eyes glow bright in the shadows.

When he spots Malcolm he stands upright, tapping the ash off his cigarette. "Evening, Mr. Bright. You ready to go?"

[abrightboy]

"Ready to go!" Malcolm tells him as he draws alongside him. He gestures to the cigarette. "Does that... do anything for you or does it just... look cool?" he asks curiously.

[outofthepast]

"Looks cool, huh? Good to know." He smirks, careful to keep the smoke from wafting in Malcolm's face. (Nick is nothing if not polite, after all.) "Nah, it doesn't really work on me, but I can taste it. Brings back memories, let's say."

[abrightboy]

"What kind of memories?" Malcolm asks, falling into step beside Nick to steer them towards the coffee shop.

[outofthepast]

"Oh, you know the type. Walking down dark city streets on a rainy night. Lamplight and neon. Little snatches of music from the clubs on the corner. And the shadows of darkness closing in all around."

He smirks and tucks the cigarette back between his lips. The moment they pass through the gate and out of HQ, there's a flicker, a blur, and a human man in the same clothes is walking beside Malcolm.

"God, that creeps me out every time."

[abrightboy]

"Yeah, I can see why. I mean, if you're not ashamed of who you are, you shouldn't have to hide it. They have magic in this place; why not a robot?" Malcolm points out.

[outofthepast]

"Well. I understand in the big picture. I stick out like a sore thumb back home, too, but at least folks are used to robots, if not synths like me. Here, I'd draw a lot of attention if they let me walk around bare bolts and all."

Nick simulates a sigh, and another little drag on his cigarette.

"So, does a forensic psychologist do much in the way of repairs?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm huffs a self-deprecating laugh.

"Repairs of people's minds, I guess," he suggests. "I have a good grasp on human anatomy, if there are any useful crossovers there."

[outofthepast]

"As far as my mind goes, I hope to avoid needing to open that particular can of worms." As long as synthetically humanly possible, anyway. "As for anatomy, though... some of it's applicable. The Institute wasn't trying to replicate people at the point they built me, so it's not exactly 1:1. But if you're trying to build a synthetic man, the human body's a decent blueprint to start with."

He makes a face. "Honestly, most of the problem's with proprietary parts. Not like I can walk to the corner store and pick up a gen-2 coolant pump. And now I can't even rob other fallen synths in an emergency. Somebody who can improvise is gonna have a leg up as far as helping me out goes."

[abrightboy]

"Some of the people they kidnapped to here must be engineers or scientists or... mechanics," Malcolm muses. "Have any responded to you?"

[outofthepast]

"Not so far." He shrugs. "Doesn't mean they're not out there. But I know I'm asking a lot, and folks are busy. Particularly when there's a whole department that's probably equipped to... deal with me." There's a vague shudder of dread at that mention.

"Still. If at all possible, I'd prefer to avoid turning myself in to the Tech department as long as I can. It's not them, it's me."

[abrightboy]

"I don't like going to ADI medical, either," Malcolm points out. And not only because he was forced there against his will back in January by one of their imported cohort. "It's hard to be vulnerable with people you can't trust."

[outofthepast]

"Right. It's probably hard for most humans to understand, but when I'm the only one like me... it's not just trusting them. It's getting my entire body taken apart and studied, piece by piece."

Been there, done that. Can't remember most of it, but he'd prefer to keep it that way.

"There's more to it than that, too. But that's the skinny, for the most part. If and when the time comes, I won't get the choice to be so sensitive or choosy. As long as I do, though, I'm gonna take it."

[abrightboy]

“I’m not sure I’d call it ‘sensitive’, not wanting to be experimented on,” Malcolm remarks.

[outofthepast]

"You may not be surprised to hear I've met plenty of people who don't think I'm capable of being sensitive. I've had morons tell me to my face that everything I think and feel is nothing but programming. That it doesn't matter because none of it's even real."

Nick smirks, a little bitterly. "I'm not saying the ADI folks are like that, or think like that. But it's a lot easier to think like that when there's a bunch of them, and one little old me, laid out on a table. I'm nobody's 'project,' never again. That's one thing I won't give in on."

[abrightboy]

"I mean... human brains are also basically... meat computers. Our feelings, strictly speaking, are just biological 'programming'. Stimulus-response. I think it's a bit rich to suggest yours are different because the components are made out of something else," Malcolm tells him. "But that's humans for you, I guess."

[outofthepast]

"That's what I'm sayin'."

It's nice to hear that Malcolm thinks about it that way, particularly for a psychologist. If Nick has to listen to one more genius fumbling to describe some nameless, unidentifiable spark of whatever that makes human beings magically profound and himself "less than," he's not liable for his reaction.

"Good to know we're on the same page, there, honestly. I've had that argument enough to last me another two or three lifetimes."

[abrightboy]

"I think people enjoy believing humans have some kind of special je ne sais quoi that can't be imitated or duplicated because they like thinking they're special advanced beings and not... just another organism that grew out of the primordial ooze over time. Like a frontal lobe can only be gifted to the Chosen by a Higher Power." He shrugs. "Arrogance is hard to let go of."

[outofthepast]

"Right. Arrogance." No matter the approach, no matter the person, Nick usually ends up thinking the same of all those philosopher-types. "And looking for an excuse to treat somebody else as less-than. A reason they don't have to acknowledge me, or to point out that I'm lucky they do. That's all it really ends up, in my experience."

He plucks the cigarette out from his lips to tap away the ash.

"I can clearly remember round near 70 years. And I'm probably older than that. But I've seen a lot, and met a lot of people, and in all that time I've never even heard of another synth like me. So I can't blame folks for being curious or even scared. Sure does get tiring trying to explain myself constantly, though."