It was easy enough to understand. Nate was their dad; they'd also been in cryostasis, under the watchful eye of the Institute, but the evacuation notice had opened their tanks and they'd escaped with some synths that died shortly after reaching the surface. It was easier than the truth. They were the unwanted daughters of Father, and their mother had been a ghoul locked in a cell and experimented on. Octavia found she liked pretending that their lie was reality. Evelynn had found the synth she'd released – what was his name now? Danse? – and was happily telling him about his life before he'd escaped the Institute and had his memory wiped and replaced. Minus the part where they'd been madly in love, naturally.
A hot shower and new clothes had done wonders for their morale; while Octavia had celebrated finding their way home with a few mentats, Evelynn had went straight to work. Nate had been ecstatic to have a permanent doctor in Sanctuary, finally, and despite the fact that Octavia was technically an engineer; she'd been named her assistant. But she wouldn't complain about it. After all, as soon as their backstory had been explained, they'd been welcomed with cheers and hugs. The whole little community of Sanctuary was happy to have them, and they'd started working on building them their own houses that same day. Given, Octavia's was on the roof of Nates newly built home, but it was a space of her own that had stunningly good insulation.
Evelynn was built on top of the house next door, so all it took was a step outside to see one another. But most nights, Evelynn spent on Octavia's couch while the younger twin rode out whatever high tickled her fancy that evening; a few months went by before anything interesting happened. Unfortunately, it was a raider attack, and despite the huge, imposing concrete walls that surrounded their homes, they'd managed to gun down whoever was at the gate that night and slip inside. Octavia had been more than a bit excited to sit on her balcony and snipe the ones with flamethrowers as they came charging at their mostly wooden homes. In nothing but one of Nates old t-shirts and her underwear, she'd sat back and gunned down at least five raiders on her own; not even noticing the attention she had gotten from those below.
It wasn't until she'd taken another hit of jet and lit up a cigarette that a wolf-whistle from below caught her attention; she looked over the side to see Mayor Hancock grinning up at her. She gave him a playful wink before taking down a few more of the raiders that hadn't even made it to the main cul-de-sac; the remainder turned tail and ran. After a moment of debate, she put a bullet in three more for good measure, not at all bothered by the fact her gun was the only one firing.
She flicked the butt of her cigarette off the balcony, tossing her sniper rifle over her shoulder and glancing down at Hancock one more time with a smirk before waltzing into her home and plopping down in her bed. Nate would probably stress the importance of not gunning down people running in the morning, but in her personal experience in the wasteland, they only ran long enough to regroup, then they came back with a vengeance. The Institute had worked similarly.
The next morning, sure enough, Nate had a meeting and kept giving her pointed looks as he stressed how if they killed people asking for mercy or running from a fight they were no better than the raiders; Octavia resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she stealthily slipped a mentat under her tongue. He'd made a point of telling her he disapproved of her "excessive chem usage" about a month or so into her stay at Sanctuary, so she'd been trying to cut back where he could see her.
"So," Hancock waltzed up to her with his normal charisma and she tried not to grin back at him, silently offering him a cherry mentat, which he accepted curiously. "You're a pretty good shot for a popsicle."
"I guess I take after my dad." It felt so right calling Nate that, she'd found, despite it being a lie. He fit the bill for ideal wasteland dad to a T. Hancock snickered at her response, being reminded of when Nate stumbled into Goodneighbor and was promptly almost mugged.
"What flavor is this?" He changed the subject quickly when the taste of the mentat he'd accepted washed over him. It was something he'd never tasted before, and the smug look on Octavia's face told him it was probably something home-made.
"Cherry. It was hard to replicate out here, but it was pretty common in the Institute. I figured it'd be well received." Obviously, she was proud of her concoction. Her sky-blue eyes sparkled in amusement at his mild surprise.
"Don't suppose you'd be willing to share?" Humming thoughtfully, she pulled out a second tin that had a pretty red bow tied around it and held it out to him. He was pretty surprised that she handed it over so easily, with no demands for payment. When he accepted it and popped two more, he was rewarded with a dazzling smile that momentarily took his breath away.
"I'm glad you like it. Let me know if you need anymore – just, preferably not in front of dad. He's on a crusade to get me clean." Octavia snorted, walking away with a sway in her hips that made it impossible not to take note of her curves. Hancock had noticed them the night before, of course, when she'd been sniping from her balcony, but the way her jeans were clinging to her left little to the imagination. He wondered if she knew how beautiful she actually was, with her platinum curls and those bright blue eyes, but then he remembered the wink she'd given him last night and decided there was no way she wasn't aware.
Little did he know, Octavia's heart was beating a mile a minute under his gaze; the woman tried her hardest not to fold in on herself self-consciously. It was always better to be perceived as confident, even if it was blatantly untrue. She tried not to sprint to the doctor's office, settling into her desk near her sisters and feeling decidedly giddy about her short interaction with the ghoul mayor she'd heard so much about. If Evelynn noticed her particularly perky mood, she didn't say anything; instead, they both began working on making some stimpaks and hordes of painkillers that worked better than the primitive medications they had above ground.
