Chapter Text
Rain pelts against the old windows of the State House, water spilling through the cracked window panels damaged by nuclear fire and bullet holes. It would be worse bellow, Hancock knows, where the gunfire was more frequent. Now it wasn't by any means pristine up near his office but enough so that he's not hit with rain every time the wind blows. He's alone up here, Fahrenheit more interested in stalking the lower levels along with the neighbourhood watch as he'd opened the State House doors up to the drifters in a bid to get them out of the worst of the storm. Although Fahrenheit had mumbled about his foolishness under her breath, she had still followed his orders. Bit of a pity really, it has been a bit too quiet for his liking lately and a conflict would have been good to spice things up.
There was one thing on the mayor of Good Neighbours mind as he sat on the rickety chair of his office kicking his worn boots up onto the desk, and that was how dreadfully boring things were these days. Sure, there were gangs lurking, others who sought to take council from beneath his feet to occupy his time and then there was that psycho Pickman who was making grotesque art (if you could even call it that) a few blocks away. Although, even between the haze of chems and politics it was god damn boring out here, so routine... mundane.
He looks out and down at the rain soaked cobblestone, the doors pulled open so he can see out, never mind the way the wind whips torrents of rain inside. Hancock can't find it within him to care as he brought a canister of jet up to his lips, pressing down on the trigger until the familiar smoke curls out. He holds it, letting the rush of it hit him as he pauses. What was a better way to spend a wretched afternoon like this? he ponders as smoke exhales from his ruined nasal cavity as lets the hit out. Maybe some liquor, a willing body or two. He laughs at the thought, as if anyone would want someone like him.
His hand reaches out to grasp the bottle of bourbon, the amber liquid sloshing as he brings it out from a hidden compartment from his desk when someone abruptly opens the door. "This rooms occupied... plenty more down the hall if you're looking" He calls, not bothering to look up from rummaging through his stash. At the silence he looks up, fingers wrapped around antique crystal glass that he brings up properly to rest upon the wood. Before him Fahrenheit looks downright serious, she's a sight to behold with rain plastering her red hair to her face.
"Shit, sister, well ain't you just sunshine and rainbows" He drawls, pouring himself a healthy dose of bourbon. "Guess I should offer you a glass from that expression alone"
"I think you're going to want to see this" She says bluntly, brushing over his commentary with dry ease.
"That bad, huh? Guess I should have offered 'ya two glasses" He muses, chugging down the contents of the glass he'd poured moments ago.
Walking down the rickety statehouse stairs, nothing would have prepared him for the sight he'd be walking into. Grazing a hand over the familiar weight of his pocketknife at his side Hancock pries the door open at Fahrenheit's lead, letting him out on the opposite side that he'd originally been looking out at and instead back to the entrance where a showdown seemed to be taking place. At first it looks like any gathering, traders vying for attention of new customers but this is different, there's a hush as the traders stand back. That alone would have spoke of something amiss and that was before he'd even spied that vault dweller caught in the middle of this. They always seemed pristine, clean in a way it looked like the wasteland hadn't touched them yet.
This woman was no different, all blue and yellow like a beacon there was no way she didn't stick out in the masses. He's close enough now that he can hear their voices carry over the wind. “I think i’ll pass” The vault dweller states, tone definitive.
Across from her stands a more familiar figure, Finn. Now, Hancock knew all about Finn. That man was all business, he was someone who skipped the bullshit and drove straight to the point. He was often on the streets of Good Neighbour, hustling for caps and taking what he wanted. Business was not the issue that caught wind, no, it was the greediness that infested him, driving him to pilfer from folks who didn't have enough to give. Hancock's attention had been on Finn for a while now, biding the right time to sort him out proper from the line he was threatening to topple.
"I don't think you understand what I'm saying, lady" Finn says. "If you're not willing to pay my insurance fee you'll be sorry when you're facing big nasty accidents that you could have avoided"
The vault dwellers expression hardens, her lips pulling taunt to speak before her attention is caught by his approach.
“Finn, my man! What’s the problem here?” He calls out before Finn can turn to see what had caught her attention.
Finn, the scum that he is just scowls at Hancock like his presence had ruined his plans. “A newcomer here refused to do business” Finn replies sullenly.
Hancock's eyes slide across the pair in thought. “Is that so? Everyone is free to come to Goodneighbour and that freedom extends to accepting and denying business as they please”
A murmer goes up in the crowd around them, wether agreeing or disagreeing Hancock doesn't really care, his attention is caught on Finn before him. “Now, how about you let this lovely lady go” He says pleasantly enough but anyone that knew him could see it for the order it was.
Finn glares at him outright now, anger rising to the surface at the demand. “No"
'Fucking pig' Hancock thinks, before smiling at the other's response. "No?" He prompts.
Finn shakes his head. "No... you know what, Hancock, i’m sick of new comers here and i’m more sick of how you let them run all over you” Finn argues. "Are you a mayor or a lapdog? Because right now I find it hard to spot the difference"
Hancock steps closer, slow and sinister as he gestures out to the water soaked surrounds. "Goodneighbour is for the people, Finn, that means it's for everyone” Replied the ghoul. "This ain't Diamond City you're stepping in, brother, I've made that clear from the start"
Finn’s expression shifts, a malicious glint to his eyes. “You know… one day there'll be a new mayor” He taunts.
The words echo to a memory of Vic before he'd been overthrown by Hancock's own hand. Oh, the fucking gall of him. Bastard just didn't know when to stop did he? Just sealed his fate with that statement. He had been willing to wait to see how far he'd go with his side hustle but now Finn had forced his hand now. If he wanted to behave that way then he's got no choice but to put him down like the dog he is.
"Oh, what is that? No love for your mayor, Finn?” There's a faux sadness to his words, one that Finn doesn't catch until he spies the danger in Hancock's smile. Hancock's hand comes to rest on his shoulder, pulling him towards the ghoul. “You know, I did like you, pity you had to ruin that with your smart mouth” Hancock says, tone twisting to a snarl of anger.
Finn seems to clock the past tense too late, tensing in the trapping hold Hancock's faux embrace brought him. His mouth open, wether to deny or plead forgiveness but the action is for naught Hancock's hidden blade is plunged into his side, casting him silent. Warmth blossoms against Hancock's hand, the other's body giving so easy to metal as he twists the knife deeper. His hand is slick in blood, removing the blade with a sickening squelch only to dig it in again and again and again until it is only his hand holding Finn upright. With the other gone limp Hancock drops his hand, watching as Finn's body crumples to the cobblestone street with disinterest as blood begins to mix into the puddles at his feet.
His attention shifts to look at the vault dweller proper, sweeping his eyes over her for injury. He can tell she's struck by what she's witnessed, either the violence or his visage Hancock isn't quite sure, in turn he decides it best to approach her with caution. For brutality was second nature to him, hell, to anyone who walked these lands, it was the bare bones of the wasteland, creeping in the darkest corners and right before you. A vault dweller was not a figure that sought out a town like his, too soft, so predictable in their baulk at violence. No. A girl like her was just asking for trouble, especially one as fair as her.
With his assessment over her, Hancock can't help but note just how pristine she looks under the lamp light. 'Fresh out the ground' He muses, unable to find a blemish on her skin. “I’m sorry that this was your first impression of town” He says, low and rasping. “I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble”
The vault dwellers gaze lifts from the faded blood stains at the hems of his pants, no doubt pondering if it was routine that he'd gut men like animals to slaughter. “Nothing I couldn't handle” she replies diplomatically. It was the right thing to say, not giving away her cards early, that he cant help but admire her handling.
"I suppose so, but I couldn’t let badmouthing his mayor go on any longer… he can talk as much shit as he wants about me but well, when he accosts people just trying to survive out here well…" He pauses, unable to fight the sneer off his face. "I won’t stand for that shit”
Her gaze is steady, shoulders drawn like she expected him to turn on her next. “A noble cause” She states.
Hancock grins knowing it doesn't look pretty but cant help but find her fight endearing. Although, as endearing as it was he couldn't help but push her, making sure to rest a palm on her shoulder like he'd done to Finn moments ago to see just how much spine she had. “Right on Sister, now, where are my manners? The name’s John Hancock, the mayor of this fine establishment and I think we’ll get on just fine see with have a saying here; of the people for the people, you feel me?"
The blood on his hand stains the blue of her vault suit, his gaze locked on hers as they are caught in a stand off. “I feel you” She echos after a pause.
"Good" He says, withdrawing his hand from her. "I'm sure you'll get a feel for the place sooner or later, Hotel Rexford is a good place to haul up if you have the caps for it otherwise there's plenty of odd ends in the surrounds or the Statehouse for drifters such as yourself"
"Thanks"
"Either way, you’re welcome here anytime as long as you remember just who’s in charge” Hancock warns, turning on his heel to walk further into town. Her eyes burn against his back as he walks away before her attention returns to eye Finn's limp body sprawled out against the rain soaked cobblestone. Hancock is sure to make sure she isn't following when he makes his way back to Fahrenheit.
Speaking of, his body guard pushes off her lazy position against the lamppost as he approaches, ever the watchful presence. "Think that was wise?" Fahrenheit questions.
"Maybe... maybe not, guess we'll have to see"
She lets out a dismissive grunt at his words. "Your source still solid?"
"Oh, Certainly, I don't think much gets by old English" Hancock drawls.
White Chapel Charlie was a good informant, who wouldn't talk before a robot? What they didn't know is that the Mr Handy kept the mayor in the loop for the going about of Good Neighbours streets. Wasn't like any would confess up to him or at least not the kinds he needed to keep an eye on. Lucky for him there were multiple ways to keep tabs.
"I've told him before about looking out for someone to cleanse the... rats... from the city, we might have some luck with Magnolia's performance tonight"
Fahrenheit levels him with an unimpressed look. "I think they'll be too busy drinking or trying to get with her then to listen to job opportunities" She says.
"People are always looking for caps, I'm certain we'll get a bite" Hancock states. "Plus, be easier for them to have the upper hand when their targets have had a bit to drink"