#killinguilt

            ‘  then  i  guess  our  business  is  concluded  .  ‘  the  words  roll  off  his  tongue  with  no  hesitation  ,  voice  lacking  much  emotion  besides  a  hint  of  false  disappointment  .  politics  wasn’t  a  subject  he  got  tangled  up  in  ,  wasn’t  supposed  to  get  tangled  up  in  .  monsters  &  coin  ,  that  was  what  concerned  him  .  didn’t  matter  what  side  held  the  purse  ,  so  long  as  he  got  paid  .  ‘  you  can  hire  me  to  slay  monsters  but  you  won’t  be  enlisting  me  in  any  of  your  battles  or  wars  .  i’m  a  witcher  ,  not  a  soldier  .  ‘

Hancock nodded, his black, dilated eyes looking into hers gently, and with great care. He wasn’t happy with her. Not at all, but at the very least he did have respect and a sort of understanding for her after she apologized and explained herself, if only a bit.

Shit happens, he supposed. After all, no matter how meticulously you plan something or how simple that thing may be, mistakes are bound to happen. Yes he was hurt. His cut arm and bruised ribs could attest to that. But nevertheless, he was willing to forgive her. The wasteland was a cruel and horrifying place, with many unpredictabilities. She likely didn’t know and with that she couldn’t truly be blamed. Not in his eyes anyways

“Is’ fine. My arms and side’s a bit fucked, but nothin’ that can’t be managed with a lil bit a bandaging up and some chems. Don’t beat yerself up too much, kay?”

This place was still unfamiliar, no different than the gun held in shaky hands. Both felt harsh, unforgiving, unnatural. Neither were meant for her. Yet with the Institute gone, wasteland and pistol alike were cruel eventualities that had to be adjusted to sooner rather than later, and the dead supermutant mere feet away felt like the best testament to that within reach -- it was just a shame someone else had gotten tangled up in the mix.

Through the bog of guilty ‘I’m sorry’s’ clouding her mind ( were they for ghoul or supermutant? Weren’t they both people? ) sense -- or what she hoped was sense -- pushed unfired gun back into its holster for a lack of foreseeable use. Stranger or not, he’d gone to the efforts of defending her when she herself had faltered; surely he wouldn’t turn on her unless she offered up a good enough reason to do so first.

“If nothin’ else,” she hesitated, memories and adrenaline projecting doe-like demeanor into the forefront of her mind, and stubborn surety in the good of upcoming choice pushing her thoughts outward, “let me take care of that.” Another pause, this time to pull herself together. “I’m a doctor, and it’s the least I can do for cockin’ up bad as I did.”

“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.” 

“How do you manage it, Hancock?” The ghoul's really the only one he can think of, who'd have any sort of advice for this sort of thing. “Being a leader, I mean. Goodneighbor, it can't be easy, right? I've been there, it's sort of... well, no offense, but a shithole.” Daniel gives him a slight shrug. It's not said with an insulting tone or anything, but it's the truth as he sees it – Goodneighbor was filled with crime, chems, sex, everything an apocalyptic wasteland needs to thrive on.

She tossed a weathered leather duffle bag on the Mayor of Goodneighbor’s table which fell with a distinct sound. With a nod towards it, the synth gave a slight smirk. 

“Fahrenheit mentioned you may have been running low.. So I figured, since I’m trying to kick the habit I’d give you my personal stash..”

She tugged on a strap revealing a small horde of chems inside. She rustled the bag around a little picking a few up and showing them off. There was quite a variety and selection.

OC questions that helped me with characterization:

Not Accepting!

What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

What song is 100% garunteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and emabarrasingly, either in public or the shower?

What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was their last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

[ OOC: |Headcanons| ] - (( Jesus well ok then -Cracks knuckles-

Food- Heres the deal, Ali prides herself on being able to cook. Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, Brunch, Dessert, you name it. She isn’t particularly skilled with BBQ or maybe fancier dishes but she’s been taught by her mother to craft filling, warm meals. So having her food taste beyond just ‘decent’ is usually a must. For example Ali appreciates a good hardy soup or chowder, usually accompanied with a sandwich or bread to dip it in. She likes her steaks Medium rare and juicy, and will straight up refuse to cook a steak ‘Well Done’ saying quote ‘I’m not setting fire to a perfectly good cut because you want to eat charcoal.’ Her taste in desserts are simple, and loathes store bought crap. Chocolate cake with light trace amounts of lavender icing is her favorite. All of which is well and good, but this unfortunately makes it difficult for her to down ANYTHING in the wasteland. Yeah she can make something actually edible with the plants and meat provided by farmers but using expired cartons of cram or salisbury steak may make her sick just by the smell. Bottom line: she can be picky.

Hmm.. petty annoyances? There isn’t much that bothers Ali that isn’t important. She is very patient that way. Even actual obnoxious behavior doesn’t usually phase her unless it has good reason to. But I suppose if I had to think of one pet-peeve is when people need to be quiet and refuse to. Whether it’s sneaking past a raider camp or listening to a speech, she almost immediately loses respect ( [Allison disliked that] ) when someone can’t shut up when they’re supposed to.

Ok getting turnt up in the bathroom is kinda Ali’s... thing. She’ll sing anything when bathing from ‘He’s a Man’ to ‘Tickled Pink’. Sometimes she’ll use a comb or shampoo bottle as a ‘microphone’. Kinda alludes to how much she misses preforming. But none of these are sung with silliness and usually have some kind of skill. An actual loud, embarrassing song she’d sing just to be cheery is probably ‘Hound Dog’. Ali will sing it while dancing when especially joyful but only when she is alone. Probably pretend the broom she’s using is a guitar. Mind you, if Ali got caught she’d go seven shades of red and never live it down.