[h1][color=lightgray]Carl Semken[/color][/h1]
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[color=lightgray]“This whole city is going to [i]shit[/i].”[/color]

There were a few looks from around the room directed at Carl. He had his sleeves rolled up as he leaned on the table, head lowered some. It wasn’t clear if he [i]meant[/i] to voice that remark – it really never is with him – or if he was simply not in the mood for professionalism. In truth, it was fifty-fifty. Carl raised his head about, giving an eyeless look around the room. [color=lightgray]“Well it’s true.”[/color] He retorted, turning a hand.

The rest of them turned back to each other and the projection screen while Carl rested his head again. Last night, Verthaven was launched into a goddamn war against the Fiends. Bunch of shirtless psychos with gas masks and tattoos. Yeah they had metas but, for [i]Christs’s Sake[/i], why the gas masks and tattoos? The leader have a Fallout fetish? Hell, that’s what Carl figured. Either that or they’re into some kinky shit. He mulled it over in his head while the rest of the room kept on talking about the situation.

[color=lightgray][i]Long Dragon. Sulfur. Big Dong Travis. Burnmark. I swear to God, this is some big joke. Someone’s pulling strings and they think it’s fucking hilarious. It ain’t.[/i][/color]

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[h1][color=crimson]Veronica Marlowe[/color][/h1]
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All is still.

There are stains of white on the floor.

The cistern is silent, save the slow dripping of filthy waters, and the occasional splash. Veronica sits with her back to a brick wall, clutching two small jars in her hands. One is filled with pale custard, and the other a crimson gelatin. She looks at them both, wondering which to consume. The hour is almost up, and she was not fit for a randomized outcome. She sits there and she wonders.

Her little enclave was doing fairly well on food, but she had reason to believe that would change soon. Through her child, Pale, she’d caught the morning word of the rising action. The Fiends, those disgusting savages, were engaging in what she believed to be a war for control of the city. The thought was horribly unsettling, but not for the usual reasons. She didn’t care what happened topside. She only cared what happened down here, in the sewers. If the violence stirs too much, she won’t be able to get food. She’d starve down here. And what if the Fiends started using the sewers to move around? They’d drive her out, even with Red defending her. It was so worrying, and all she could do was make this decision, right here, right now.

Pale, or Red.

Get food before the turmoil turns Verthaven into ruin, or stay the ground down here and hold out for a while. The thoughts coursed through her head. But Veronica’s time was up. She made the decision. She opened the jar of red and raised it to her lips, tilting her head back and patting the bottom of the jar. She shut her eyes as the viscous fluid and little chunks made their way down her throat. She didn’t stop until all of the jar’s contents were gone. Until she had consumed everything. She slowly lowered the jar, setting both the empty one and the unopened one down on the floor. She ignored the awful taste in her mouth, she’d grown used to it by now. And she felt the rising in her gullet.

She winced, and gagged a little. A pause, and then she leans to her side, head facing downward. Thin streams of red drip from her lips as she begins heaving, a chunk or two falling onto the brick floor. After a moment, a bulge rises from the base of her throat and travels upward. She doesn’t close her eyes as the deliverance exits her mouth, dropping onto the floor.

A little, red, flimsy thing. Half the size of a tennis ball. Could fit in anyone’s palm. It lies there on the floor, tossing a bit, uttering the smallest cries. But it’s brave, and active, just like all the Reds before.

Veronica keeps her head lowered for a moment more before reaching her hand for a cloth, sitting on a little plastic crate. She picks up the infantile being and wraps it gently, holding it in her arms, returning to her seated position. She breathes audibly, but the hardship is over.

Now, all she had to do was wait for it to grow.