#freakshowroad

[nightwontlast-a]

@freakshowroad​

           ‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ He  is  so  happy  to see Hancock again that he drops all pretense  &  marches right up to him with his arms open  &  a  genuine  Valentine  smile  on his face.

[courierfuckinsix]

@freakshowroad

Today was a day of miracles--Lucy had lucked out and stumbled across a cute little scorpion-free nook in a canyon wall to duck out of the rain (rain in the Mojave! Imagine that!) She was all but busting at the seams with glee as she lit up a fire to boil the rainwater she’d collected for coffee when she heard the scuff of wet boots outside the mouth of the cave.

Fuckin’ figures. Haven’t had a decent day since Goodsprings. She slipped her revolver from its holster and crept on silent feet toward the intruder--who was having a smoke break, of all things. She pressed her gun to the back of their head. A statement in itself.

[streetslost]

@freakshowroad / @musecontract​

         EYES WERE STARING TO A CLOCK, watching the red seconds hand tick tick tick away, the time slipping from her fingers without her doing anything but remain unmoving.  Head was slightly tilted, sending dark locks askew to one side of her head, tickling across haggard features, perhaps attempting to hide the d a r k e n e d bags that sunk beneath her eyes.  Green was bright amidst the white and red that spoke of sleepless nights.  It was these t w i s t e d evenings of never ending nightmares that had forced her into the place she now stood.  Dead eyed staring at a clock in which the time meant nothing to her, she just struggled to feel present.

      The people around her reeked of similar scents as she held - one of the strongest signs of poor living conditions.  Tattered clothes, gritty hands, forced smiles.  They bumped and bumbled by her, heading to get food from the table, to accept the handouts of clothes and toothpaste and any other materials offered.  The event was marvelously done in many aspects, but Cat’s embarrassment with being there drowned out the excitement she could have possibly held over free items and plentiful nutrition.  She n o r m a l l y could handle herself; didn’t need assistant in taking care of her form on the streets.  Yet, the ache nestled deep in the marrow of her bones had made her usual tactics a bit beyond her means for the passed few days.  Her hand was played, and the cards she had displayed were far from winning stakes.  Even the thief had to cut her losses every so often.

                                Perhaps it was the fact she was stood rigid while the rest of the building swirled around her, perhaps it was the fact she appeared a child... but the draw of approaching footsteps finally took her gaze from the display.  When she settled on the man arriving, she had nothing to say for a moment.  Not like there was anything she could offer aside from a name.  A name was that wasn’t even the one given to her by BIRTH.  Just a false one she had obtained over the years, adorned her being.  To hide?  To escape?  To bury the past into some long forgotten corpse... a corpse of who she was and most likely would never be again.  Though she was far from aware as to the link of the man before her.

            Heh, she was never one for conversation.  Social skills had eluded her even as a child - one of the shyer nature.  Now she was just angry.

                        “Come t’ask why m’staring at a clock?  I guess I jus’...  wanted to watch a few an-ticks.”  Puns made talking EASIER, right?  That was what she was going to go with anyway.

[nightwontlast-a]

💘— @freakshowroad​ sent, 🌚 ( catch Nick coming home late ) sticky situations meme // eagerly accepting !

           If he had the decency to look abashed about it,  then maybe it wouldn’t be quite so bad.  As it stands,  he’s come in more like some nocturnal thing whose comings & goings cater to no human constraints.  No secret the man is hardly husband material,  but he has been displaying that so frequently & so flippantly that he may as well be doing it intentionally   (  hell,  he probably is,  for all he’s been dragging his feet on the matter  ).   

            He comes home late,  looking dog tired but having no trace of perfume on him.  He’s been working,  as all he seems to care about is work,  if indeed he cares about anything.  He doesn’t imagine it ought to bother her ;   he stays out of her hair,  doesn’t stand in the way of whatever she wants to do with her life,  what’s there to bother about if he’s out when he shouldn’t be   (  three hours after curfew  ),   or poking his nose into places it doesn’t belong ?  

           ❝ Sorry,  doll ;   I didn’t realize it ought t’ be a problem. ❞

[nightwontlast-a]

@freakshowroad​

         The  event  is  in  full  swing.      It’s a grand evening of spectacle  &  social elite all gathered to honor someone who’s done a hell of a lot of good.  Nice kind of a gathering,  that,  but Nick’s always been a bit of a wallflower at these things.  Hanging just at the fringes,  looking in but making polite small talk with anybody that wanders near while he nurses his champagne,  a tall,  well built beast sporting a regal pair of antlers just perfect for drawing attention.  &  he’s the brother to the guest of honor. 

         People are mingling,  it’s a time for celebration  &  twinkling lights  &  the atmospheric soundscape of conversation  &  clinking glasses.  Every beast dressed up in their finest clothes,  the beautiful,  restrictive garb that they all love putting on  &  taking off in equal measure.  Jewels on throats  &  decorated horns,  gold studs in long ears.  In every hand,  a champagne flute.  Banners hang down,  framing a priceless crystal chandelier hanging high above the ballroom.  Absolutely dazzling,  all the spectacle.  All adorned like the hosts have dragged the stars from the sky for the occasion.    

          He'd been asked to take a walk for air not half an hour ago by an older leopard who slipped away from the company of her chaperone,  but he politely declined the offer.  He didn’t get all dressed up in his Sunday best just to hide away,  did he ?   &  he got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t happy with him,  but a lady doesn’t bare her teeth to a gentleman   (  if indeed he can be called a gentleman,  or she a lady  ).   He was hoping that’s not a sign of things to come.  

          Fortunately,  he is at present on his own once again,  pleased not by the passing attention,  but by all the fuss in honor of a man he holds in the absolute highest regard.  He wants to see this go perfectly,  flawless.  Not that he’s taken part in any of the planning.  But he would do or give anything just to make sure that Dima’s night goes off without a hitch.

           An errant scent wafts to the elk,  something heady  &  deep.  It’s not the leopard again,  it’s something that sparks a feeling in him that’s almost primal,  something that brings out a longing he can’t describe,  almost a dissatisfaction.  He shudders  &  sips his champagne.  His ear flicks.  He’s got no name for whatever that was,  or is.  It’s coming back again.

[nightwontlast-a]

@freakshowroad​ send 💘 for a crime themed Valentine starter ! // eagerly accepting 9. sabotage

           ❝ John, ❞    he begins,  moving up to first names,  like he hadn’t called him that every day back when he had been John McDonough,  that dazzling young man he always knew was gonna do great things one day,  & oh,  was he right !   It’s been a surreal transition to make,  not because of his preference toward surnames but because the very reason he has begun to call him by his first name is because he feels so wonderfully comfortable,  so impossibly close with him that it has come to feel incorrect not to !   He pauses on that.  John.   Lets it give him strength to carry on.

           ❝ Hey,  uh,  listen.  I understand if you’d prefer I didn’t bring this case up with you again.  After all that happened...   but I don’t really have a choice, ❞    Valentine’s speaking slowly,  hesitant but not with any timidness.  Quite simply,  it shows just how much he doesn’t want to have to address this.  It can’t be an elephant in the room.  It’s an unsolved case,  an issue that needs to be put to rest,  regardless of the fact that he would just as soon shoot it in the head if it were on the table to do so‒‒‒‒    to drop it & forget he ever did something so despicable as what he did trying to solve it.

          But no,  that isn’t him.  There has been a murder,  & he can’t allow there to be something unaddressed,  not with Hancock.  All the more,  when there’s a security risk he’s found that needs to be ferreted out but fast.  That’s the real important part.  The part that makes this a possible danger to Hancock is the part that makes it need addressing,  that’s the part that makes his chest feel tight.  

          ❝ It’s about those men that set you up. ❞

[nightwontlast-a]

💘 @freakshowroad​ sent, [♥] - for a (negative) love headcanon negative headcanons // accepting

💘— Though he’s had quite a few relationships throughout his long life,  Valentine has struggled to keep one going very long for several reasons.  His occupation being a big one,  after he’d settled into the role of the detective.  His depression being another.  But something less obvious,  nagging at him,  is the memory of Jennifer Lands in his head.  

Because Jenny was such a big part of the original Valentine’s life,  & not only did he love her dearly,  but she was so powerfully in his mind at the time of the brain scan,  it left Valentine with the sense that this was his girl,  whom he cherished & lost.  He was in love with her,  even though he didn’t ever know her as a synth.  

Time eased the pain,  but it didn’t erase the memories of her.  So,  he had a tendency to draw comparisons in his own relationships.  Being more attracted to those that reminded him of Jenny in some way,  but at the same time pushing too hard to try to distance himself from her memory could at times put a strain on him in terms of choosing partners.  He couldn’t shake the trace memories of her that would come crawling up.

Incidentally,  that was one of the factors involved in the end of his ill — fated relationship with Magnolia.  He felt he had found love with someone who was only his own,  not a memory but with him,  & that was a triumph of his own identity as separate from Nick Valentine’s.  That was what caused him to push things the way he did.  It was unfair,  yes.  But he didn’t do it maliciously or even consciously.  It was just the unfortunate side effect of trying so hard to distinguish himself from the identity structured for him while he still had Jennifer in his heart.  

[nightwontlast-a]

💘― @freakshowroad​ said,   “ I didn’t ask you to be human. I don’t need you to be. ”         starters for robots //  eagerly accepting !

          The words lay Valentine bare.  Knock down his walls & silence his protests,  catch his own words in his throat to seal them there like a spell.  The air gets thin.  A light turns on.  A life begins.  Another ends.  I don’t need you to be human.  I don’t ask it of you.  I know what you are.

          You are good enough as a synth.

           Talk about a big answer to a little question.  He catches himself staring at Hancock’s hands,  so he helps himself to them.  It feels right.  He feels like he’s floating adrift,  because surely he can’t deserve all that.  

           When he answers,  his voice is uncharacteristically soft,  between the delight that sticks in his chest  & the nagging voice in him that says maybe he doesn’t deserve it‒‒‒‒  maybe Hancock will realize.

          ❝ You sound...    real sure of that,  John. ❞