Hella rusty when it comes to Faradima but a quick lil sketch because we’re LOSING THE ANCIENT TEXT.
Also I found out Stone and Faraday highkey kinda look similar and I started jumping for joy
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Hella rusty when it comes to Faradima but a quick lil sketch because we’re LOSING THE ANCIENT TEXT.
Also I found out Stone and Faraday highkey kinda look similar and I started jumping for joy
I know I'm spamming the Far Harbor tags but I love this guy
FaraDiMA truthers RISE!!!!!!!!
DiMA: *walks out to the outside of Acadia* If Faraday asks, could you cover for me?
Nick: *raises an eyebrow*
DiMA: He worries an- *freezes suddenly with a thousand-yard stare*
Nick: You okay?
DiMA: *windows XP error noise cut off by a windows xp shut down noise*
Nick: What the-?! *fully turns around with the most confused expression*
DiMA: *dial-up internet screeching before a Windows XP start up noise happens and he resumes talking* ...awful lot- Why are you looking at me like that...? Have I done something to upset you?
Nick: You tell me. I'm not the one who just crashed so hard, 50 different noises happened at once!
DiMA: *processing*
DiMA: Yes. That IS horrifying. Perhaps Faraday is right to worry.
(Based on this post:
whenever i write i have two documents on the go, one for 'scrap' stuff i can refine later and a 'cleaner' one that's more cohesive. the scra
)
After running around a bit on the Island of Maine:
Lucille (sole): Hey... do you give check ups to Synths?
Faraday: *looks at DiMA in the other room then back at her* Is that really a question you have to ask...? A-anyway, why? Something wrong?
Lucille: Mm. Not necessarily, it's just I usually help Nick with maintenance on what he'll allow when there's not an accommodating mechanic around...
Faraday: I take it you're asking me to have a look, then? I think I can spare some time. Just give me a few minutes to finish configuring this server and I'll check him out.
Lucille: *relieved* Thank you. That means a lot to me, Faraday.
Later...
Nick: *sitting in a chair getting his systems checked*
Faraday: Well that's weird... Why is that there...? And where did this come from...? *pulling out bits of enemies while also finding strange patch jobs done by various mechanics and Lucille over the past year*
Nick: *used to hearing this but is nevertheless concerned* Everything good, doc?
Faraday: No. No it is not. Since you're DiMA's brother I have to assume you're at least as old as he is. *frowns* But your physical condition is a lot more worn down. I believe your continued maintenance is what's holding you together.
Nick: Tell me something I don't know... Anything specific I should worry about? Besides the obvious of course.
Faraday: To put it bluntly, you need a couple of new parts. Who knows how much longer those patch jobs will hold. *picks another bullet out of his casing that was rattling around in there* And PLEASE stop getting into fights with the locals? That's putting a serious strain your body, especially your coolant system.
Nick: I can't make that promise, doc. Not with what I do...
Faraday: *looks over at Lucille who's watching with some concern (and slight fascination) for her friend* Then you better get those parts replaced. I'll write a list.
I would die for DiMA
Faraday was used to worrying about and fixing DiMA, but not a day went by when he didn’t think the prototype was onto him. Maybe it was just him. But who really knew? Not Chase, because for as long as Faraday could remember, she wasn’t a fan of everyone and usually kept to herself. She wasn’t much help in these situations.
So the doctor decided to ask his own questions instead of answer them with everyone else’s opinions. His mind raced as he was working at the terminals near DiMA, who was speaking about the Institute and how it kept him and Nick away from each other for so long. DiMA had missed Nick, and Faraday knew it. But he had to keep his head on straight and focus today, because some things had to be spoken about.
“How’re you feeling today, DiMA?” Faraday asked, walking over to the chair that the synth was resting in. He smiled and looked at his doctor.
“Fine, really. More than ready to dissociate myself from the real world today, however, but all is good in my readings, I trust?” Faraday nodded and curled his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah. We’re running our diagnostics today.” He let his hand drift to DiMA’s arm and gently run his fingers over the synthetic skin, something that always had the strangest texture and interested Faraday completely. He could spend days without taking his hands off of DiMA.
If only the synth would let him.
A small groan emitted itself from the prototype’s mouth, however, and Faraday’s hand fell back at his side, his eyes looking back to the floor.
“Sorry, DiMA, please, ah, forgive me for being-”
“Could you,” DiMA cleared his throat, “could you do that again?” Faraday didn’t question it like the synth thought he would, but slowly raised his hand to DiMA’s chest this time, his fingers grazing the skin there as he felt the motors inside his chest whir out of the rhythm they had been in. A quiet gasp came from his mouth from the touch, his mind being unable to comprehend this feeling. Maybe it was just him, but his… “heart” felt something towards Faraday.
For now, however, they’d have to keep this level of touching down and continue with their work. It was, after all, important to the whole island.
Okay new headcanon DiMA has to sit and hunch down to even get at semi eyelevel w Faraday