boxofmisfits | Come By Goodneighbor

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Come By Goodneighbor

Goodneighbor wasn't the prettiest or biggest town in the Commonwealth, being dwarfed by Diamond City, but it was still a decent place to live and home to many outcasts within the wasteland. Those who weren't allowed to live in Diamond City, or just preferred the way Mayor Hancock did things.

Hancock himself sat on his couch, taking a puff of a cigarette as he listened to the radio, currently playing a Silver Shroud rerun. These days, all radio programs were reruns, and thank whatever Gods there were for preservationists and those that uncovered the old tapes. He heard about other radio programs from the travelers, such as the Daring Dashwood program from the Capitol wasteland or Tales from the West Virginia Hills from Appalachia, and unfortunately it wasn't so easy these days to copy tapes and spread them to other radio stations.

He looked up as a synth in a trenchcoat entered his bedroom.

"Hey, Nick. Did Fahrenheit give you much trouble?" Nick was on his approved list, but Fahrenheit often subjected even his friends to random patdowns sometimes. Never knew what one could be hiding in a trench coat, she might say.

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"Nothing beyond the usual," Nick responded, unfazed about the scrutiny on his way in. Fahrenheit had a job to do and he had nothing to hide so he didn't mind her patting him down to make sure he didn't pose any threat to Hancock. Even though he was already known by her, one never knew how quickly those things could flip.

Much like Hancock himself he had a cigarette between his lips, though he didn't exactly have the same effect from it as the ghoul did. He had to wonder sometimes whether or not he would have chosen to smoke himself or if that too was from the original Nick. Whether the familiar motion calmed some part of him that the man himself had calmed with the nicotine.

"I gotta admit that I'm not here on a social call."

Social calls weren't that typical of him so Hancock probably suspected as much but best to inform the Mayor that he was visiting because of a case anyway.

The first time that Hancock had seen Nick smoke, he'd wondered what the point was, since it wasn't like he had a throat or lungs, and he wasn't even sure that Nick had a sense of taste and could really enjoy the flavor.

"It never is with you," Hancock replied dryly, taking another drag. "As usual, my town's resources are at your disposal." Nick was a private investigator and not really a cop, and therefor Hancock didn't feel torn up about helping him out.

Nick moved across the room to help himself to the ashtray there— knocking ashes from the cigarette before bringing it back to his lips. The motion was one of a man taking a drag of it though what the cigarette was just continue to slowly smolder and burn away on its own.

"Gal of about seventeen went missing a few days back alongside a suitcase of her mother's most valued belongings. Word is she's been seen running with a couple guys from here."

Just rumors that he'd heard so far. Nothing concrete. But part of his job was to follow the rumors until he caught onto where to go next or to follow until he could be sure it was unrelated so he could look into the next thing.

"Was hoping to ask a few questions around town."

He did have this awful sinking feeling that the girl might be gone and that the only thing he'd find were perhaps some of the contents of the suitcase she'd taken. But he hoped he was wrong about that.

"You're certainly welcome to," Hancock took one more drag before mashing the remains of his cigarette into the ashtray. He refrained from lighting another, wanting to save up the ones he had until he could buy or scavenge more. Even in the post-war world those weren't exactly cheap.

"Can't say I've seen her myself, what with being busy and drifters coming through here all the time. Might wanna ask the guy at the news stand, he's pretty observant. Might also check the general store, if she tried to hock her mom's things."

"I was thinking of starting there, but I guess I'd better start at the news stand."

He would probably check the general store anyway. Even if the girl herself hadn't come through, the belongings from her suitcase might still have come through the general store. If someone besides her had brought them in then that was bad, of course, pointed to some less than pleasant possibilities. But still.

Nick was hoping to find the girl alive. So guy at the news stand it was.

"Just wanted to make sure it was good with you first. I'm sure you'll have people who ain't as good with me asking questions."

And then Hancock would probably get complaints.

Of course Nick intended for it to be more calm questions than aggressive shake down. Better to be safe than sorry in case someone got twitchy though.

"Some of the Memory Den patrons might not be receptive to questions. MacCready also isn't terribly reliable."

He got up and went to his gun cabinet, just to make sure it was all in order.

"You know, you can always come by just to talk. Share a smoke, even."

"I'll be careful how I ask my questions."

He didn't imagine this case would take him to the Memory Den, but one never knew. Right now he had a mystery that needed solving and he needed to figure out where to start to see where the trail would take him.

He tracked Hancock's movement with his eyes as the ghoul moved across the room and he cocked his head to the side slightly at his words. He was sure he was just hearing things but something about his tone didn't sound quite like usual.

"Wouldn't want to disrupt your business by dropping by unannounced."

As Mayor he was so often busy after all. And Nick had his own things to worry about too.

"The town ain't gonna fall apart just because I get a social call."

Hancock inspected his hunting knife, seeing if it needed to be fixed.

"Some of the pre-war ghouls say that telephones were once used to call people from whole towns away. Made it easy to keep in touch."

Now you had to broadcast general messages over the radio and hope someone heard you.

"Yeah... Doubt we'll be seeing those making a return any time soon."

The world hadn't exactly bounced back and radio was about where most people were at. And even then, the range was fairly limited for most. The phones one could find in places were only really useful for being scrapped for parts.

He flicked more loose ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray and ran a thumb across the filter idly as he pondered.

"I'll stop by again once I've asked around, how about that?"

They could have a chat and a cigarette then. Assuming that his case didn't end up moving quicker but suddenly getting busy was a risk they both ran in their individual ways of life.

"I'd like that. And hey, if you need any backup, or an extra gun, you can always ask me."

He and Nick didn't often adventure together, but it was nice when they just hung out. Hancock liked Nick, respected him. He and Fahrenheit were probably his two closest friends.

"If I feel things might get dicey I might take you up on that," Nick said, offering a very slight smile. Hancock was not the type of partner he usually ran with but he did know how competent he was.

And honestly it'd probably make Ellie feel better if he could tell her he'd had someone along with him too. She worried after all. Especially on those cases that had him on his lonesome and that might take him far from home.

"Don't think I'll need you for the questioning though."

"Your call. Just lemme know if you need anything. Y'know, caps, an extra screwdriver to tighten your hand with, that sorta thing."

Closing the cabinet back up, Hancock went back over to the couch, lighting up another cigarette.

Nick let out a noise that might very well be amusement. He rarely went anywhere without a screwdriver to tighten up his hand after all but the offer still amused him even though it was more than likely made in jest.

"Think I'm good."

He flexed the hand not covered in silicone and found that it moved about the way he wanted it to. He turned then and raised the other hand in a casual gesture goodbye before heading out.

It was a few hours later that he returned— his expression slightly more grim than it had been, though there was little he could do to follow up on the clues he'd gotten just now. The synth dropped himself down onto the couch unceremoniosly and pulled a pack of cigarettes out to tap one out to light it.

Cigarette and a chat. Unable to immediately follow up on his case he supposed that it was how his time was best spent.

When Nick returned, Hancock was already lounging on the couch, the ashtray cleaned out, and a pack of cigarettes and a lighter nearby. The cigarettes were old and stale, but Hancock got by, and Nick hadn't complained about old cigarettes before. Hancock also had a glass of brandy in hand, swirling it in an attempt to look fancy.

He held the pack of smokes out to Nick. "After you."

"Looking to impress someone?" Nick asked, nodding toward how the ghoul was swirling the liquid in the glass. Honestly Nick doubted the motion would make it taste any better. He could be wrong of course given that alcohol was something he couldn't partake in.

He took a cigarette out and lit it, holding it in his uncovered hand, while the one that was still covered in silicone reached up so he could take his hat off to set it down besides himself on the couch.

"Sounds like the girl might have run off with a group of raiders."

That did complicate things. Especially since he couldn't be sure if she was with them to join that way of life or if they'd lured her in with promises of excitement while their true intentions were more nefarious.

"Is it working?"

He took a cigarette for himself and lit up, taking a drag before sipping on his brandy. The only reason he didn't offer any to Nick was because while he could pretend to smoke, he couldn't pretend to drink something. And while the smoking was harmless to a synth, getting liquid all over his circuits likely wasn't.

"Raiders, huh? You gonna go after 'em?"

"Was it me you were looking to impress, Hancock?"

His tone took on a lighter more jovial quality for that, before dipping back to the serious one as his mind went back to his current case.

"Gonna have to. Could be that she wants to be the next bad thing on the block. Could be that she's in trouble. It's my job to figure out which it is."

He certainly hoped to be able to bring her back. Of course he needed to find the specific group she'd ended up with first and that could take him far.

"I found some of her mother's things at the general store. Sounds like she rolled through here and looked a bit twitchy during her stay."

A different type of twitchy than withdrawals. A paranoid sort of twitchy.

"Maybe it was," Hancock said slyly, sipping more brandy, thinking it made him look smooth.

He turned serious as Nick spoke again. "Twitchy could mean any number of things. Maybe she ran away from home and was lookin' over her shoulder, maybe the raiders put her up to this. I don't wanna tell you how to do your job, you're the detective here. Still, you know how dangerous these raiders can be."

Nick tilted his head at that. Hancock should know that he didn't have to act in any particular way to impress him. And honestly he didn't quite get why he'd want to.

"I know."

It wasn't like he intended to rush off after her without a plan. There were certain tricks he couldn't pull any more considering how well-known Synths were now. And how well-known he was. But he'd find a way.

"I'll be careful. Probably stop by the agency first before I go chasing after her."

"You just remember what I said about backup. I got a gun, lots of ammo, and plenty of chems. I know you synths are tough, but you can still get deactivated." Plenty of scavengers knew to stay away from buildings where Gen 2 synths were rumored to be. They were valuable as scrap, but damaging them to the point where they stayed down was the hard part.

"Give it some thought as you head back to Diamond City." Obviously Hancock wasn't welcome there, and he had personal reasons to stay away, regardless.

"I'll head back here once I've informed Ellie of how the case is going."

And find a way to say it that wouldn't make her worried that he was charging into more danger than he could handle. It was a delicate balance that. She knew he could handle himself but she still had a tendency to worry more than she should. She was a hell of a secretary though and Nick was pretty sure he couldn't do what he did without her.

"Sounds like she's not the only one who'd worry if I ran off on my own."

He and Hancock were friends but Nick had never even entertained the thought that the ghoul worried about him when he was off on a case too. They saw each other so rarely too. Of course that was probably his fault given how rarely he swung by Goodneighbor.

"Look, the number of people I trust can be counted on one hand," He took another drag, blowing smoke into the air. Even if Nick didn't have lungs and possibly no sense of smell, he was polite enough to not blow smoke into the synth's face.

"I count you among those very few. You're on the level and you've never given me shit for being a ghoul or how I run things. You're good people, Nick, and good people can be hard to come by in these times."

"That'd be throwing stones in glass houses, wouldn't it?" Nick said, tone going a little flat. He was a synth after all. He was the last person who should hassle anyone about being something other than human. Especially since it was only luck that let him live cushy in Diamond City instead of being out in another garbage heap.

And he didn't think anyone could complain about how Goodneighbor was run. It was still rough but the people preferred it that way. And it was a heck of a lot better than it had been with Hancock as mayor.

He tapped the ashes from his own cigarette, carefully tapping a metal finger against its side, before bringing it back up. His chest did move like he was breathing, though unlike Hancock he couldn't breathe the smoke in so it simply rose in slow and steady coils.

"Think the people here need you more than I do, but if you insist on tagging along I won't say no. Can't think of anyone else I'd rather have watching my back."

Mostly because he could be sure that Hancock actually would.

"Yeah, but you'd be surprised how many ghouls go in for that whole synth boogeyman thing." Maybe some ghouls just refused to see any solidarity with synths, maybe they bought all that anti-synth stuff that was being peddled by humans, or maybe they figured that synths were a common enemy.

Thankfully most ghouls that Hancock was on good terms with saw that things weren't that simple and that synths were just as vulnerable. Ironically, Nick being a Gen 2 gave him more privilege than the more human-looking Gen 3 synths, just because everyone knew for certain what he was.

"Sounds like a plan." He sipped the last few drops of his alcohol.

"Guessing you must have had a talk with folks here then," Nick said, the corner of his lips twitching up into a brief smile, "Can't say I've gotten hassled by anyone on my way in here."

Plenty of anti-synth sentiment. But none really aimed at him in any way other than comments or suspicious glances. None who'd asked him— at least not recently— if he was there to snatch them. Most of the people who had something to say when he turned up commented on his career. Wondered if he was chasing wayward spouses or stolen trinkets or someone's lost cat.

"If I ask you to try to stay sober, will you?"

John's drug use and alcohol consumption was his own business. But if they were going out together he would prefer that he was steady on his feet. Of course it would be a little while before they went so even if he had another drink he'd probably sober up before it was time to go. Better to mention it now though than come back and have to delay. The chems were fine, of course.

Alcohol dulled the senses though.

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