Nora and Piper were on their way to Diamond City when Nora spotted the sign pointing the way to Goodneighbor. "Oh hey, I guess Goodneighbor's nearby," she remarked. "Maybe we can go pop in and check it out? Come back with Nick later on?"
Piper considered it. "Well, Goodneighbor does have a bit of a reputation to it," she said. "But I think we'll be fine." She rapped her metal-clad knuckles on her metal-clad torso.
"Haha, yeah, I'd love to see some dipshit try to mug us," Nora said, grinning. "It'd be like this scene from this old cop movie where a guy tries to rob a donut shop, and he turns around and there's a dozen guns pointed at him."
Piper frowned, the gesture hidden by the power armor's helmet. "Why would there be a dozen people with guns in a donut shop?" she asked.
"Because they're cops!" Nora said, as if this was self-evident. "Cops fucking love donuts, for some reason! …And I just remembered there probably haven't been donuts in 200 years," she grumbled. "Gotta go poking around in a Slocum's Joe, see if they have any preserved donuts…"
They made their way to the city's entrance and passed through the door. Literally five seconds later, a dipshit tried to mug them. "First time in Goodneighbor?" he asked. "Can't go walking around without insurance."
Nora and Piper exchanged a gleeful look, amazed that this shit was actually happening. "I do have to admit, I've let my premiums lapse for the past 210 years," Nora said.
The dipshit took no notice of her wit. "You hand over everything you have in your pockets, or 'accidents' start happenin' to ya. Big, bloody 'accidents'."
Nora feigned a horrified look. "You mean, I'm going to shit myself? And I'm going to have a bloody stool?" She turned to Piper. "Piper, I might have rectal cancer!"
"I don't think he's making a medical diagnosis, Blue," Piper observed. "I think our less than intelligent new friend is threatening us." She turned to the dipshit and jerked a thumb at Nora. "You do realize we came in together, right? You saw us both walk through the door just one minute ago, right?"
The guy was starting to cotton onto the fact that he'd made a terrible, terrible mistake when a voice from behind him called out. "Whoa, whoa, time out!" Out of the shadows walked a ghoul dressed in the latest fashion trend (if you stopped following fashion trends after the death of George Washington, that is). "Someone steps through that gate for the first time, they're a guest," he admonished. "You lay off that extortion crap."
"What do you care?" Dipshit said, not realizing he was being handed a lifeline. "They ain't one of us!"
"No love for your mayor, Finn?" the ghoul said, giving dipshit a name. "I said let 'em go."
"You're soft, Hancock," Finn muttered. "You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor."
"Come on, man, this is me we're talking about," Hancock said, reassuring. "Let me tell you something." He put his left hand on Finn's shoulder, then whipped out his right hand and buried a knife in the man's guts in two quick jabs before putting it away. Finn fell to the ground, his lifeblood rapidly vacating him. "Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh?" Hancock said to the dying man. "Breaking my heart over here." He looked up at Nora. "You all right, sister?"
"Don't call me sister," Nora said. "It makes it difficult to imagine you and I making love on top of that guy's corpse."
"You're a bit of a freak, huh?" Hancock questioned. "I think you'll fit in well here. Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome. So long as you remember who's in charge."
"Does that include in the bedroom?" Nora asked, biting her lip. "If you tie me up, can you wear a cowboy outfit?"
Hancock, for the first time, questioned Goodneighbor's 'Everyone welcome' policy. "I'll… get back to you on that." He left, as fast as he could.
"John Hancock, my second least favorite mayor," Piper remarked.
"Holy shit, John Hancock is a ghoul?" Nora said, surprised. "Did the British nuke us in 1776?"
Piper narrowed her eyes and peered at Nora for a long moment, this time unsure if she was fucking around or not. "…No, he's not the historical one, Blue," she finally said. "I'm not too clear on the specifics, but he's one of the cases of a post-war ghoulification. I wanna say he's about my age, give or take a few years."
"What's the general sentiment on human-ghoul relations?" Nora asked, a hungry look in her eyes.
"Why am I not surprised," Piper muttered. "It's, uh, mildly taboo? Sex is more common than actual relationships. I remember hearing once about a ghoul prostitute who would get paid to just, uh, lay there and act like a corpse." Piper shuddered, and to her pleasant surprise, so did Nora. "Wow, Blue, you actually have some limits. Color me impressed."
"Yeah," Nora said, shrugging shyly. "It's not like corpses can consent." She then began rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Unless… they give consent before they die…"
"No!" Piper shouted, poking Nora in the ribs. "Do NOT start asking people if you can have sex with their corpse after they die!" She glanced around and saw the good neighbors of Goodneighbor were staring at them. "God, I can't believe I actually have to have these conversations," she grumbled. "And just for the record, Blue, no, you may not have sex with my corpse. Or eat my corpse. I don't want you to do anything to my corpse except bury or cremate it."
"Fair enough," Nora said, pouting a little. "For the record, being cooked is kind of like —"
"No!" Piper said, poking Nora in the ribs, hard this time. "Being cooked is not even remotely like being cremated! Now stop it! No more talk of necrophilia! I know the ship has sailed on the cannibalism, but you will not fuck any corpses, with or without permission!"
"…Yes, ma'am!" Nora said, heart fluttering from Piper being all commanding.
They walked into the nearby weapons store, Nora always on the lookout for the next great murder weapon. An assaultron was manning the till, and as they approached, a velvety feminine voice purred out of it. "Well, hello," she greeted. "Everything here is guaranteed to injure, maim, or kill at your discretion." There was a pause. "Except me. I only kill when I want to."
"Oh my God, how is everybody in this town so fuckable?" Nora said aloud.
Piper shook her head. The woman was insatiable! "Blue, you've met three folks in Goodneighbor, and one of them, might I remind you, is dead, and we are not reopening that topic of discussion, ever."
"I was designed to provide a variety of security-related tasks to the modern man… or woman," the robot clarified. "Runtime conclusion: why work for the man, when you can work for yourself? New designation: K-L-E-0 — Kleo. Fully independent small business owner." She looked Nora up and down and sighed. "Regrettably, those are all the services I provide."
"Oh fiddlesticks," Nora said, frowning as she perused the hand-written catalogue on the counter in front of her. "Well, nothing strikes my fancy, but if you change your mind about other services, please let me know."
"You'll be the very first, darling," Kleo assured her.
They investigated the Daisy's Discounts next door, and after flustering the poor woman with yet another declaration of sexual intent, and purchasing a few choice pieces of scrap from her supply, the two women left with an ancient library book and a mission to clear out the Boston Public Library of a super mutant infestation. "Blue, are you really gonna blast an army of super mutants just to return a book?"
"The last time I blasted an army of super mutants, I entered into an emotionally and sexually fulfilling relationship with one. Who knows what'll happen this time?" Nora's eyes were twinkling (though that was probably the neon lighting reflecting off of them). Piper knew better than to answer that question.
Their next stop took them to the Memory Den, where, after the entrance corridor, they found themselves in a room with several memory loungers (almost identical to the VR pods, save for transparent glass domes), and a woman dressed like an old timey bordello matron lounging on a couch at the rear of the room.
Nora walked up to her to inquire about her services, but she spoke first. "I think you've stepped into the wrong place, sweetheart," she said, a little dismissive. "You don't look like you need the Memory Den. Do you even know what we do here?"
Nora frowned. This felt like a trick question. "Memories, right? Unless this is where I'm supposed to go to get my boobs squashed, and the spelling of 'mammary' has dramatically changed in the past two centuries…" She pinched her chin in thought.
"…It hasn't," the proprietor assured her, giving her a suspicious look. "We facilitate people reliving their experiences, and believe me, reliving the right experience is far more intense than any other sensation." She gave Nora an appraising look, and found her wanting. "But it's not for everyone."
"Hey, I think I can handle any ol' memory of mine you can throw at me," Nora said, cocky. "I already lived through them once, after all, and I've managed to resist blowing my head off so far."
"Jeez, Blue!" Piper said, cringing.
The proprietor considered this. "Well, I suppose there's no harm in giving you a trial run," she said. "The easiest are memories involving other people. Recent events involving loved ones are the best. Does anything come to mind?"
"Hmm…" Nora again rubbed her chin. "Well, I did have a rather delightful intimate encounter with a super mutant recently…"
"I don't want to watch that play out, Blue," Piper begged. "What about something with Nate and Shaun?"
"But those memories are all 200 years old," Nora said patiently, as if Piper was the crazy one.
"Not for you!" Piper said, voice rising. God, she just wanted to grab Nora and shake her sometimes. "Just, what, a handful of months for you, right?"
"Oh yeah!" Nora said, brightening up. "Yeah, the day of the Great War, the last time my family and I were all together."
The proprietor — Irma, according to Nora's magical ability to tell peoples' names just by looking at them — gave her a cold, hard stare, before deciding it would be interesting to see what a madwoman's memory looked like. If anything, Dr. Amari might be able to make use of the data, if it was some brain abnormality that caused her to stroke out in the memory lounger. "…Yeah, I think we can help you," she finally said aloud." She gestured towards the nearest empty lounger. "Sit down, and let's see what memory we can find."
As Nora sat down, Piper took her hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Are you sure you can handle this, Blue?" she asked.
"Of course," Nora said. "I already know Nate and most everyone in Boston is already dead, so watching it happen again won't get to me." She returned the squeeze, then tucked her arms in as the dome lowered. She heard Irma converse with the house doc about the procedure, then the house doc said 'hippocampus', and Nora started cackling, imagining a bunch of hippopotamuses attending a university.
"I'm not sure how ethical it is to perform this procedure on an obviously deranged woman," the house doc said, concerned.
"Just hurry up and run the damn program," Irma snapped. "The sooner this one is gone, the better."
Nora's view of the screen in the lounger — displaying an old, old test pattern — faded to white; indeed, the entire world seemed to vanish behind the white foam in her vision. Then she heard a voice — his voice — and a chill ran down her spine. "War… war never changes…"
XXXXXXXXXX
The cop movie Nora is thinking about is Robocop 3, AKA The One Where He Gets A Cool-Ass Jetpack.
Nora's remark about being tied up by a cowboy is a nod to the dominatrix cowboy ghoul from New Vegas.
You go to the Memory Den to spelunk around in Kellogg's memories once you get the doodad from his skull in the main quest, but if you show up before that you can rewatch your spouse's murder and your son's kidnapping, hahaha. (Nora does have the doodad, of course, but she neglected to let Nick know to show up here so she doesn't get to go poking around in there just yet). Rather than just having Nora replay that, I'll have her relive the entire intro, since that all happened before the story began. It's gonna be fun!
When I first wrote this chapter, it was close to the 5,000 word mark. I decided to chop it in half, since I think folks prefer more bite-sized chapters (I know I do!).