sole survivor

@solussuperstes.

     hancock is more than aware of his reputation. drug lord, benevolent kingpin, politician — a ghoul, too. it doesn’t help matters when he goes and contributes to the rumors, either. mina meets his eyes without hesitation, without flinching, without blinking. she treats his ruined skin like it’s something soft and smooth, something whole. a rare wonder tucked tight inside a pre-war body. ( because even the best of us will blink at blackened sclera, will stiffen at the brush of a coarse, wasted hand. and yet – here she stands. ) hancock tips his tricorner back, stepping in behind her and ducking forward to press a kiss to her cheek. 

     ‘ heya, sunshine. ’ 

it’s been a busy few weeks with nick. she likes helping him on his cases, enjoys just being able to help someone, even if everything isn’t always resolved as warmly or as neatly as a happy ending might call for. still, it’s good work, and mina adores nick so, but there’s an undeniable little twitch of her lips the moment she steps into the glow of goodneighbour’s neon lights.

“you know, back when i was in school, people used to try and stick these under their tongues during tests to stay focused, try and see if they’d get a higher grade.” she turns the box of mentats over in her hand lightly. “i was boring though, i never tried to cheat.” a little smile and she offers them over to him. if nothing else, she suspects hancock must like her given that any discovered chems are immediately placed in his possession. “there were rumors of a watermelon one coming out right before the bombs, too. sorry to say i don’t think they ever made it out of the factory.” 

she laughs before she can help it, immediately burying her mouth in the corner of her elbow to mask the noise. he’s clever, nick, makes her laugh before she knows what she’s doing and manages to find a way to make her smile even when she can barely remember what it feels like. “that? that was pure luck.”

eyes skitter over to the newcomer for a moment, pausing his progress of loading a small bag for his next mission – letting them linger on her for a small beat, as if taking in anything that he needed to catalog about her before turning his dark gaze away again. and now, instead, examining a small plasma pistol before strapping it to the holster against his hip. he refrains from a low laugh at the question, responding shortly, “not exactly.” he assumes the female is the one from the vault that deacon had vouched for to desdemona – she had been making waves across the commonwealth, and while he didn’t make it his job to know everything about everyone ( just the people he needed to be interested in ) like deacon did, he kept his ears open. “i’m never here much – or long.” his job – his missions – kept him in the commonwealth more than he was ever at hq. “you’re deacon’s newcomer, aren’t you? take everything he says with a large grain of salt.”

“ah,” she replies somewhat lamely, because she doesn’t know enough yet to determine what exactly that means, except to take it to mean he’s out in the field more often than not. mina distantly wonders how many are in the railroad altogether, or at least sympathizers. “i mean, it is a nice basement, all things considered, historic even,  but i can see why you might enjoy a little bit more fresh air.”

he’s not surprised that it’s OBVIOUS that he’s new around these parts. boone still doesn’t know how to carry himself. the commonwealth reminds him of the mojave, but there’s much more vegetation here. it’s colder here, which is its own battle… but it’s better than the HEAT on the desert. boone crosses his arms, eying the woman before him. “yeah… saw that.” he mumbles. he’d looked around diamond city, but it felt… it wasn’t as lively as new vegas, and the people seemed more standoffish. “where is – goodneighbor?” it’s not easy for him to navigate these streets. it’s much more complicated than the strip. “you take me over there, and i’ll make it worth your while.” 

she doesn’t have the heart to tell him that she’s barely qualified to lead anyone anywhere, tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ear in thought. (mina had known boston inside and out before the bombs, but two hundred years of rubble and collapsed steel have made the city all but irrecognizable to her now.) “it’s north of here, couple hours walk pending no ghouls, raiders or otherwise nasty run-ins.”