I always return to the Institute when I sleep. Duncan urges me to sleep as he does. Humans need a certain amount of sleep or else their physical and mental functions suffer. For a synth, for me, it is different. We sleep so that we may blend in. Duncan wishes me to blend in.
I sleep and I dream of gleaming silver columns and rushing water. I smell the earth and green things growing that have never seen a sun. I move through unfamiliar corridors, painted white with yellow stripes. Sometimes red and green and blue. Different divisions, all needing synths for nearly everything. Without us, they could not aspire to the goals Father has set out. And yet, we are treated like any scope or scalpel or spoon.
A scientist whose face is familiar with a name I can almost remember, asks me to sit in a chrome-plated chair next to a small table. Atop are syringes and vials neatly lined up on a silver tray. He tells me this will not hurt, but it is a lie. The injection stings. I rub my arm as he carefully reminds me to let him know of any side effects I experience. “Go back to your duties,” he tells me.
My cheeks are hot and damp with salt water. My eyes burn with it. My shoulders shake. There is a soothing touch on my cheek. The press of soft lips.
I open my eyes but my vision is blurry. It is Duncan there. is face large and pulling away. “You are crying,” he said.
“Oh.” He doesn’t let me sit up. Instead, he lays on the couch beside me. A shield, I tell myself. Not a cage. I do not think this is the first time I have cried on his shoulder, but it is the first time I will remember. Neither of us heard the door open and close to the safe house, hours, minutes later. Neither of us remembered Curie had been there too. This follows what happened here. An index of Ashoken and Duncan’s story can be found here. Duncan is the apoco-son of the lovely and talented @charomiami
yesssssssssss
“Hi Honey, It’ll be Christmas soon. I found an old tree to set up to make it feel a little more homey. It’s still not the same with out you and Shaun though. I still remember how excited your folks got when we talked about going to see them for Shaun’s first Christmas? I don’t think your mom could have squealed any harder. She was so happy. Oh, I guess you got that artificial tree after all, no more dead pine needles but no more pine smell.
Finally got that old bike rolled in the garage! I don’t know why I bothered, but it gives me something to do and reminds me so much of you and our trip down the coast.
Dogmeat also has a new girlfriend! I can’t think of a good name for her yet, but she’s a doll. You were always the one great at thinking up names. You picked the best one, Shaun. I’ve included a picture even though I went through the last roll I could find anywhere. Maybe next time I head north I’ll get lucky. There’s that old hotel, I’m sure they had things left behind from visitors. I know I shouldn’t be wasting film, but you always said I never took enough and there were never enough pictures of us. You were right. Now there never will be. It hurts to admit that.The few I found that survived, I’m keeping those.
I better get going. I’ll leave another letter soon. I love you.
Yours always, N-”
It’s just about to hit Christmas in my current play though and I just had a rough day. So I needed to get out a little sad kind of feels. I figured my SS would never stop seeing C6. Ever. Even if they “moved on” they’d always have a place in my heart. So I had to add the doodle to my screenshots I loved so much.
CharoMiami 