bakerstreet | naughty or nice?

Other ways of making a man shake.

[It has nothing to do with fear. He's not going to touch the teddy bear comment, he's not soft! He is a very scary hardened old man, chems and booze could never!]

I'm too old to give a shit what anyone thinks bout me and if anyone ain't like me being around they're welcome to make me leave.

[He smiles.]

Well, they can try.

[Cooper regards Hancock, moves in close to pop the front of the other ghoul's hat up with a flick of his fingers.]

Oh I know who's in charge. Some young whipper snapper playing dress up.

[Says the man who's dressed up as a cowboy for 200+ years.]

I ain't unaware. Ain't shakin' yet, either, so I guess you're just spinnin' hypotheticals

[ Hancock totally not making a bet with himself about seeing if he can blitz that hard edge off Cooper's 'tude. Seems like a worthy challenge. ]

Not feelin the inclination to make an attempt... not yet anyway

[ His chill, faintly smug smirk doesn't even flicker at the new proximity, or the tipping of his hat. He just tips his head back the slight angle to keep looking Cooper dead in the face. ]

You know as well as I do that folk respond real well to theatrics, Coop.

[ Kettle to pot, repeats his tone. ]

Now that just sounds like a challenge.

[Look this is the naughty or nice meme and Cooper is naughty. In every meaning of the world. If Hancock is interested in that that is.]

What's that little saying of yours...

[He huffs, amused.]

"By the people, for the people"? Bet that got your crowd cheering.

[ Jet black eyes means it's hard to track the ghoul's gaze; so he's particular about tipping his jaw to show the point of his focus climbing from Cooper's face to his toes and back again. Most folk know enough for some scrap of hesitance or fear... but there isn't a single trace on the other ghoul's expression. ]

Makes sense, since I'm makin the effort to keep wavin the bull'seye

[ Ghouls with poor impulse control and a taste for chasing danger say what? He nods along at the correct recollection of his (now his) words, meanwhile reaching leisurely into his coat and producing a small red inhaler of jet.

He takes a hot second to finish his reply, letting the silence heat to heady while spinning the small inhaler around his fingers like a knife. It's a quick and practiced motion that leads him through taking the hit, inhaling sharp through the chemical sting, and Hancock lets out a lungful of acrid vapor into the narrow space between them. ]

You callin me a crowd pleaser? Dangerously close to a complement, that

[Cooper likes how straight forward and unapologetic Hancock is, even if it does sometimes feel like it's for show, but again. He can't speak on that considering...

The comment about the bullseye makes him smile as does the once over Hancock gives him. He doesn't flinch at the jet blown in his face and if he had a nose he'd inhale the awful smell of it. Chems flow through his system like blood more often than not, that and alcohol. It takes a lot to knock him on his ass though.]

I think-

[Cooper starts, reaching to curl gloved fingers around Hancock's on that inhaler.]

Compliments a compliment if it's true. Not out here to butter anyone's bread for the hell of it.

[And he punctuates this by taking the inhaler from the other ghoul and taking a hit of his own. Breathing out the vaper with a curl to his lips.]

Since you the big honcho, you must got some pretty nice digs? Mm?

[ Can't fault a guy for being a little theatrical, right? The corner of Hancock's mouth curls into a smirk as the jet inhaler is shamelessly pilfered-- truthfully he would have offered, ever a generous junkie, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Cooper's probably more comfortable taking what isn't offered than what is.

In the case of of chems, anyway.

His perception slows to an amusing, detail-rich drag that lets him card casually through his senses; a ghoul lucky enough not to lose his sense of smell, he idly notes the scent of the other ghoul's leather gloves and his breath (skin, and blood-- thank you jet) beneath that. His ink black eyes adopt a chemical glaze. ]

Somehow I wasn't imaging you as the complementary type already. Guess I should appreciate your feelin... congenial [ The way he rolls that last word so leisure-slow off his tongue, like taste-testing a new candy, can't entirely be attributed to the jet.

He leaves the inhaler in his companion's hand with another moment of indulgent staring before turning slow, and gazing down the short street north, and then south. Cooper is right, he has options here. The Old Statehouse is his, while still being open to the public. Same with The Third Rail, which does have less trafficked back rooms...

But like most ghouls, and unlike Hancock himself, Cooper is an old pre-war relic.

And that gives Hancock an idea of the best location from his town's repertoire to show off. He'll have to thank the Vaultie again, for getting the place unlocked... ]

Might have a place in mind. Would ya believe me if I said the words "running hot water". Sounds like witchcraft, don't it?

[ He strolls casually, leading Cooper in the direction of Neon Flats. ]

[Theatrics are both their game, let's be real. Cooper won't say no to things offered, but he's more likely to take a hard look at why someone is making the offer. Lot of times there's an underhanded reason. Old ghoul can't be too careful. But he understands the type of ghoul, the type of man, Hancock is. There maybe theatrics, but he wears his ideals on his sleeves.

He won't shy away from the way Hancock looks at him, his own gaze not skittering away but meeting the others blackened eyes. It don't bother him really, the yellowed, red and bloodshot, or the blackened eyes of many ghouls. Of course some have perfectly "normal" eyes too, like him. At this point he doesn't really give a shit how he looks, he's been walking the Earth for over 200 years, but he's grateful to still have his eyes. It might be the one thing his daughter will recognize when he finds her. That's neither here nor there right this moment. Cooper follows after Hancock, lazy and relaxed.]

Sounds like a vault to me. You hiding one of those tin cans under here?

[If that really was the case any mood was going to be ruined. That was the last fucking place he wanted to be in.]

You gotta say 'hocus pocus' to get in too?

[ Hancock won't begrudge his guest a little healthy suspicion. This is exactly how some folk try and steal fresh living organs. But that's not his game-- and what would he want with organs anyway? He's practically a pescatarian over here. Wearing his ideals (and his heart, if as much can be said) on his sleeve is exactly his vibe right now; no subterfuge bullshit, just a genuine interest in dancing if Cooper likes the music. ]

Hell no. This place is classy-- and freshly un-canned, so maybe don't go braggin' about it unless you like the idea of sharing the goods

[ He's not going to get into it, but this place was full of several dead vault tech employees when he and his own out-of-time-buddy cracked it open. The question about a password turns Hancock's smile teasing and sharp-edged, like he knows something he's not fully explaining. ]

Maybe [ He says, bisecting the word across his grin, and drawing open the front French doors of the building that let in to the small entrance hallway. Once Cooper as stepped inside Hancock shuts the front doors and strolls through the narrow space, calling casually:]

Hey, Snow. Mayor's In.

[ Reacting the voice-key, the interior French-doors swing open with only a slight groan. Inside the lobby is rather unremarkable-- for something before the bombs. There's an elevator at the end of the kinked hallway, and the carpet quiets the click of Hancock's boots as he strolls through, expecting to be followed. ]

Got the Penthouse, obviously

[ It's a bullshit brag actually; the penthouse level is empty, the second level has all the furnishings... but it makes for a better brag as the ghoul rests his hip against the wall and prods the button on the adjacent elevator panel. The elevator "pings" and the doors roll open accommodatingly, and Hancock gives a gracious (slightly gloating) wave for his guest to step inside before him.

It doesn't even matter if Cooper hits the button for the top floor. S.N.O.W, that apartment's interior designing, vault-tech-employee-killing AI will politely deposit them on the floor it knows Hancock wants. ]

[Oh he's interested in dancing, the music may not be completely his taste, but he can two step around the tune as good as anyone.]

I could be convinced to keep my lips sealed.

[Cooper keeps up just behind Hancock, taking in the lobby as the doors open. Huh, fancy. Voice activated and all. This place already looks more like what he was used to back in the day, back before the bombs, before his acting career got buried in the dirt. Meeting with directors and people with lots of money for projects... multiple lifetimes ago at this point.

He almost feels bad dragging in the dirt and grime of the wasteland. Almost.]

So this place just been sitting here in your neighborhood and no one's gotten in till now? Must've had some good locks and security. Your Snow?

[He has to wonder how many hidden security measures there were in the walls. Turrets ready to spin out and cut them down if they made the wrong step.

Cooper leans back against the other side of the elevator, arms crossed loosely, at least until the it stops and the doors open again. He'll cock his head to look out into the furnished space, knowing this is in fact not the penthouse just by looking at it, but it's still real nice set up for what it is. Nicer than anything he's been in in a real long time.

He'll whistle, seemingly impressed, the jangle of his spurs following as he steps out to have a leasurely look around.]

So how many folks you sweeping off their feet in this joint?

[ Don't even sweat it dude; Hancock, and a very ghoulish ~~synth~~ VAULTIE have already tacked a decent amount of blood and grime through here-- S.N.O.W. just tidies, when no one is looking. ]

Heh... somehow I ain't entirely convinced

[ His eyes gleam like flecks of hematite in the darkness of the elevator. To the question Hancock replies with a Still Tired groan and rolls his head back like the memory physically drains him. ]

Christ don't get started. It was a whole damn thing popping this place. Took my buddy 'Var and me way too many caps and bullets, to get the door across the bloody street open. But yeah, the long and short of it? Needed a nice, non-homicidal version'a Snow to play gatekeeper. Snow's real chill, ain't ya darlin'?

[ The elevator 'pings' agreeably. Security measures there certainly are, though none to be seen currently. He follows out of the elevator into the comfortably familiar space-- glancing around (inhaling for the scent of something raw cooking) to see if the flat's other occasional occupant is present.

Evaris, the Sole Survivor of Vault 111, is not. Guy has like 16 hideouts across The Commonwealth, Hancock is not surprised. ]

Why? Already trying to scope out the competition? Or ya maybe ya just don't wanna be interrupted? I didn't peg ya for the jealous type...

[ Hancock teases in good humor, as he all but stalks his guest, prowling behind with a stare of leashed appraisal. ]

That sounds like a you problem.

[Cooper doesn't care if Hancock believes him or not, but they're clearly teasing each other at this point. Not like it's in his better interest to give up this place to anyone anyway. Unless the other ghoul gets on his bad side his secret is safe with him.]

Sounds like you needed more than caps and bullets, your buddy 'Var good at hacking too? Can't imagine this place were easy to crack.

[And Evaris sounds like a smart man. Cooper's been around a long time, he tried to settle at first, but experience and time made him realize that wasn't going to work for him. He's got his own little hideouts through out the wastes, but they're never homes. He's always on the move.

Cooper can feel the other ghoul behind him, eyes and all, chuckling as he removes his saddle bag from his shoulder and lays it over the first chair he comes to, turning slightly to face Hancock.]

Let's not kid ourselves, we both like giving folks a show...

[His own gaze draws over Hancock as he pulls off his duster, draping it over the same chair.]

But this is just a show for two.

[Let's not touch the jealous bit. He's not jealous. Psh. Ha. No. Emotions like that are trouble anyway.]

Hackings weirdly the one thing that man usually don't touch, but we managed alright. There was a whole bit with ten different computers in a room generating some kinda code and... uhg, nope, that's a mood killer right there.

[ Some strange cosmic math means Cooper and Hancock could probably stand to trade Vaulties, considering Evaris popped out of the cryo-chamber ready to fucking kill and cook and eat Kellogg extra crispy-fried, and then didn't even manage the cooking part. ]

Don't worry, if Var happens to stop buy, he definitely ain't the jealous type. If you were worried about that much

[ His good natured but mischievous goading prods impishly at the other ghoul's eversion to the topic of jealousy, just enough to let Cooper know he noticed. For the moment he neglects to devest in the least; the figure cut by his coat and historically-accurate height of his heels are just as much a part of his sense of self as his jet-black eyes or ghoulish features.

He steps into and steeps in the other man's gaze with the prideful air of an exhibitionist. He is utterly shameless in sliding his hands up Cooper's chest. ]

For two huh? Damn, I better watch that silver tongue... makin' me feel weak in the knees. Who knew you could talk so pretty?

[ With sudden strength that defies his stature Hancock swiftly shoves his suave companion onto the plush yield of the armchair behind him, riding the momentum to pin Cooper in place from his perch on the ghoul's lap. He looks far to pleased with himself, wetting his grin with an eager swipe of his tongue. ]

Sorry, told ya I was swoony

Numbers ain't get you hot under the collar?

[It's a tease as he starts to work his belt open, he doesn't get too far as Hancock pushes him to sit before taking a seat on his lap looking pretty proud of himself. Cooper's hands sneak into the other ghoul's coat, finding his hips to rest on.]

Guess I better be careful with my words, wouldn't want you cracking your head on the floor.

[He's old, his reflexes aren't so fast anymore, something something... which is a lie.]

You better hold on, don't think your vaultie would take too kindly showing up seeing that mess.

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