I DID IT I WROTE A LITTLE SOMETHING PLEASE GO EASY ON ME THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME IN ALMOST A DECADE AND I HAD TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM.
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"Hah-- y'know, I get ya want to travel in the discretion of the night... but did we really have to go through a fucking swamp? I ain't got a clue where I'm going here but whatever I'm stepping on, ough- I'm sure it's long-dead by the stench of it."
It's has been now a couple months since Hancock had convinced himself to temporarily hang the hat as mayor of Goodneighbor. The scheme put in place by Bobbi no Nose hit him worse than a chem withdrawal-- well, no, not really, but it left him with a bitter taste in his mouth and a realization: he had to get out there. The thought hadn't crossed him before the drifter's gambit but now it dawned on him that, perhaps, the view from his balcony up above was getting too cozy and, consequently, felt like he was losing touch of what reality is out there in the Commonwealth.
Luckily for him, every cloud has a silver lining and in his case, it came at his doorstep in the form of a vault dweller with a lot of baggage on their shoulders. In an apocalyptic world such as this everybody got their problems, but the way they handled their own caught his eye so much so that he decided to join them in their singular quest without too many questions being asked.
So here he was, squelching his boots sluggishly through the mud to keep pace with them whilst the fetor of death overwhelmed whatever sense of smell he still had; however the vault dweller, within the safety of their bulky power armor, managed to advance with ease through the sludge and make a path for him to follow; the only light in the darkness of the night being the bright yellow beam from their helmet as they scoured their surroundings. They didn't seem to be the talkative type but Hancock appeared unbothered by it, as their actions spoke more to him than anything else... how rare it is for one to understand the way of the world and still behave human? The ghoul pondered; a glimmer sparked in the dark voids that were his eyes, contemplating the sole survivor's imposing frame which stood before him. It suddenly felt like a knot tightened in his throat which gave him the urge to swallow, a warmth then stirred from his gut and flooded through him making the grip his hands had on his trusty shotgun unsteady. These unfamiliar feelings and racing thoughts overwhelmed him to the point to make his stride teeter...
Crack
And with that sound, he felt the pull of reality yanking him back in. His gaze darted downward and there he saw it: the cracked shell of a Mirelurk egg right beneath his sole accompanied by a pair eggs which sat unharmed right beside. "Shit--" he cursed under his breath as if it could prevent, although helplessy, what immediately followed; two hatchlings bursted out of their spawn to attack but, despite Hancock's momentary unreadiness, he quickly came to his senses and all he needed was to pull the trigger twice to make the newborn crustaceans fly into pieces; the sole survivor had just the time to turn and point their gun before everything was already over.
"Don't ya worry, I'm good." The ghoul reassured them with a confident smirk on his lips, before his attention turned downward to wipe the Mirelurk gunk that stained his trousers with a slight disgust on his face. "Ah-- fucking crabs... well, guess it ain't the first time I've had dealt with those." He chuckled briefly after he spoke, confirming his innuendo to the sole survivor which in response stared at their companion silently; the blank expression of their helmet didn't quite let on what they were thinking but Hancock could tell that they must have playfully rolled their eyes at his comment- I mean, c'mon that was chuckle worthy or so he thought to himself. Their playful stare short lived though due to something having caught the quiet one's attention; the horizon now have tinged itself in an orange glow and the warmth of the sun begun to rise through... it was finally dawn.
The light peeking through the skyline reached his scarred skin like a comforting carress; even with all the uncertainties this fucked up land were to offer, at the very least, the sun always rose everyday... and ain't that reassuring enough? He gave a glance at his towering companion as they seemed drawn by something such as simple as the rising of the sun and wondering if they too thought the same as him- but then, a twinkle from below stopped his thought in its tracks. Hancock's eyes slowly drifted downward and it was like well placed left hook hit him in the gut: it was his reflection.
As the sky begun to turn brighter, it became even more clearer despite the filthy water which funcioned as mirror laid beneath him. His reflection stared right at him the same way he stared right at it... in aversion. Now, he didn't regret it one bit. He have had the trip of his life and the near-immortality was more than appreciated but, he couldn't deny what he had done to himself. It was never a constant thought in his head but every time, even if few, that he was reminded of it, it made his heart sink in his chest... he was now a face he could recognize and call his own but not one he would ever grow fully accustomed to. A pained expression grew on his features as he silently mantained eye contact with his mirrored image, his teeth clenched slightly behind his lips.
Ain't quite the handsome devil I used to be, huh?
And just before his self-deprecating could continue, something in his periferal snapped him out of it and turned his attention to it. The sight that stood before him made the ghoul's eyes widen subtly in surprise as his breath got caught in his throat; it was his quiet traveling companion with now their helmet held under their arm and their unroughed visage exposed to the polluted air- they seemed to be simply scrutinizing the environment ahead of them for a possible way foward. Hancock had seen their face before but now, with their smooth skin shaded by the tangerine colored sunlight, it stirred an foreign feeling from his very heart as he admired them utterly mesmerized by their apperance... they looked like the people on those old, tattered pre-war posters you would often find still hang up because, despite being so unfamiliar to the common folk today, it would still somewhat bring a sense of bittersweet nostalgia... even if unaware of what it truly was like back then. The vault dweller held a beauty from a world long gone- well kept, tidy and confident aura about them with just a pinch of glee but, unlike the world, they have been untouched by the destruction of the bombs that fell... they were right in front of him in the flesh... wondering if-- maybe... if he...
Before his mind could take him to unknown places, the reflection of him that laid on the puddle beneath his boots was like a smack right across the face and made it all dawn down on him. His gaze softened at the discomfort from the sight of his disfigured face as a small smile ached on his lips.
Nah, what the hell were you even thinkin'? No one would wanna wake up to this ugly mug every morning... fuck- wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially not them.
His head sunk between his shoulders as he condemned himself through his inner monologue. Through his ghoulification he killed a part of himself he desperately wanted to run away from... and for that, he had no regret but through the same process he lost something he will never get back- the possibility to find a sense of belonging with someone which, admittedly, didn't give a thought about before meeting them... before this almost fated encounter with the sole survivor there was no one that awakened such thoughts in him and now, with it within his reach, he couldn't grasp it-- and never will, he remarked in his mind.
Before his self-hate could consume him whole where he stood, he heard the feeble sounds of his quiet companion placing the helmet back on their head; he looked over to them and they looked right back causing him to questioningly raise his brow. The vault dweller said nothing but with a small nodding of their head to the side they seemed to suggest to him that this is the way they will head towards now. The ghoul in response nodded in agreement to their request.
"Yeah, gotcha-- right behind ya, partner."
And with that, their stride towards their destination reccomenced. Hancock left behind him his denigrative thoughts as he walked, stepping on the same puddle that mirrored his reflection in the process. Despite his self-depreciative nature, he was quick to get back on his feet because in the big scheme of things it did NOT matter how he felt and what he felt-- he was but a speck in vastity of chaos in the wasteland and if with their help he could do something good, really good then... I guess it's worth the heartache.
