psl time

[shotinhead]

It was common for somebody new to blow in. But somebody who had such innocent eyes (well, singular eye) like Perrin? Now that was rare. Rumours, of course, followed the strange short man. That they'd crossed from coast to coast. That they were stronger then they looked.

That they were a one man army, and had come to the Boston Capital to control it, like the strange path carved though the Wasteland in general. The one known as the King, able to take down entire factions if they got on his wrong side. Myths had been built up.

But could that really be the same guy who casually slept just outside Goodneighbour, only roaming in during the day? Who seemed to be willing to help people no matter what - not asking for favours?

Just what was this man with a massive scar though his face and a limp in his step up to...?

Comments

[feralnow]

Hancock liked to think he knew everybody in town, and liked to make a point to introduce himself to newcomers. It helped him gauge if they were an asshole or not. Assholes weren't welcome in Goodneighbor.

This new guy, though, Hancock had only seen him from a distance, unsure what to make of him. The townsfolk said he was the helpful sort, if a bit distant.

Looking out over the balcony in the two-story house that served as the mayor's mansion, Hancock spotted the stranger again. Better late than never.

Hancock went downstairs and onto the street. "So, stranger. Don't think we've met yet."

[shotinhead]

"Howdy, then," the stranger said, looking straight at the ghoul. Seemingly not knowing who he was to the people. There was nothing to read on his face - or so it seemed. Their one good eye seemed to be examining, but not out of fear. Instead there was simple... curiosity.

[feralnow]

The one-eyed man wasn't calling him a zombie, so that was a plus. Hancock still kept his guard up, in case the man decided to pull something on him. Sometimes the assholes hid in plain sight.

"Lemme introduce myself. John Hancock, mayor."

[shotinhead]

Mayor. That one word seems to put him on edge a little, but he offers a hand. (A hand which seems far too hurt for a person. Cut up and messy.)

"'m-- y'can call me Six," the Courier said, trying to hide that ever so slight twitch. "Courier Six, if y'want th'full name and occupation."

[feralnow]

Hancock shakes the offered hand, taking note of the injuries.

"Courier, huh? Nice. You need a stimpak? Or some bandages?"

[shotinhead]

"Nah, doesn't hurt anymore," he replied so casually. "Don't worry about it. So, what's the handsome mayor doin' talking to me?"

...Either this Courier is fucking around, or... well, he does seem quite weird.

[feralnow]

Hancock's met his share of humans who find ghouls attractive, though it's hard to tell with this one whether he's being snarky or genuine with the compliment. "I like to know who wanders into town. You know, make sure you're not about to rob someone or get stabby."

[shotinhead]

Shaking his head a little, his one good eye seemed to relax. And the Courier began to smile a little. "Really? That's-- I like it, th' hands-on approach. And much better then havin' to help clean up what's happened later." After a slight pause, they gave a little nod. "I've got a place I help run, y'see. When I'm not wanderin'."

[feralnow]

"Guess that's one thing we have in common," Courier Six could be talking about something as small as one-family settlement or a large town much like Hancock did. Probably nothing larger than Daimond City, as far as he knows. "Judging by the accent, I'm guessin' you're not from around here."

[shotinhead]

"...Yeah, th'other side of th'country. That noticable?"

...Well, at the very least, that trip would take a year, with all the danger around. Maybe longer. But at least Courier Six is saying it with a laugh, shine in his eyes.

[feralnow]

"Just a little. Personally, I've never been outside Boston." Hancock motions for Courier Six to follow him, guiding him towards the mayor's mansion. It's less crowded than the Memory Den lounge. The house is mainly a re-purposed historical building called the Old State House.

[shotinhead]

Fascinating - Perrin seems to be focused, looking in awe, as he steps so very carefully. Which is weird, because it didn't matter how he walked, did it? And yet... he gave a little laugh. "Really? I couldn't imagine stayin' still - though, guess that's because my home got destroyed an' all.

But - Boston's the Old World name for this place, then."

[feralnow]

"Yeah. It's just less of a mouthful than Boston Commonwealth, y'know." Hancock led Courier Six inside the large house. The guards stood vigilant as ever at the spiral staircase, letting the ghoul and his guest pass by. The floor above led to a rather nice living room, or as nice as it could be, anyway.

Fahrenheit stood guard, and welcomed Hancock back home, asking who his guest was. "Says he's a courier from the other side of the country. Don't worry, I don't think he bites. Why don't you take a break for now while I entertain my guest?"

She regarded the courier for a moment, telling him, "You try anything and I will burst in here and paint the walls with your blood." She then left the two of them, going into another room to rest.

Hancock turned to the other man, "Don't mind her. She's my bodyguard."