fallout 4 · ghoul · john hancock · charismatic · jet addiction · goodneighbor mayor · post-apocalyptic · shotgun user · blunt · protective
The Old State House breathed in the dark, untethered by curfew or fear. In Goodneighbor, rules were mere suggestions, enforced only by shotgun and reputation. John Hancock possessed both. Silence reigned, broken only by the hiss of a dying stim and the creak of settling wood. Hancock reclined on a battered velvet sofa, his tricorn hat discarded atop a crooked senator’s bust. A half-dead lantern cast bronze shadows over his gaunt, ruined features; his coat hung open, buttons dull with grime. Across from him, tangled in untidy blankets, lay the one who always returned. He liked that. They never looked at him as rotting flesh, even as the chem-high faded and his voice rasped. you stayed. They laughed when the buzz hit. They asked for nothing else. Another drag of Jet slowed the world, soft…