[b][color=0072bc]Robert House, President of the FZM
Lucky 38[/color][/b]

[i]" I am very interested in what your long term goals are, though I suspect that at the moment, you wish to discuss a short-term goal....namely putting the NCR back in the jar they were placed in by you and I five years ago."[/i]

Mr. House gave an affirming 'hm' in response to the Lord-Paladin's request. "It pleases me to see that you have not fallen prey to the fatal ideologies of your contemporaries. The only way we can rebuild is if we learn from the pitfalls of our predecessors. I have a vision for your Brotherhood of Steel and my city, but we must lay down many layers of bricks before it can come to fruition." He paused. "If the New California Republic were to invade New Vegas, they would suffer extreme losses, but they would win. As long as this hypothetical is true, my vision will not be able to run its course. We must become powerful enough to halt their expansion."

Robert took a deep breath. "The NCR--just like my generation was before them--is doomed to destroy itself. It is a warped facsimile of America's doomsday government. We must create a large enough barrier that they cannot grow any larger. They have the capability to swallow the entire western stretch of this nation whole, and in a few centuries, they will be letting all of those people down." He chuckled. "I suppose that is where our ideologies align. We must ensure that humanity does not repeat its mistakes."

Mr. House gave himself another few moments to articulate his thoughts. "The first steps toward keeping the NCR within their own borders is for the FZM to establish a human military. Years ago, one of my former associates led his own expedition into an old military fortress known as 'The Divide'. It is filled to the brim with priceless military tech, including dormant ICBMs and special weaponry and armor. I want to restore it to its former glory and establish a human military, filled with my own citizens, NCR deserters, and anyone else who wishes to fight for the old flag. I would be willing to share any research I find from The Divide with you, in exchange for the Brotherhood's help with training my inevitably human military. A formal alliance would imply that we could defend each other and become a formidable partnership in this war's landscape moving forward."

"Perhaps Caesar's Legion can play a role in all of this..."

[color=0072bc][b]"The King", Leader of The Kings
Freeside[/b][/color]

The King strolled alone through Freeside's neon-lit streets. These days, it had become a sea of NCR shoppers. His men roamed the streets on their own respective beat patrols, ensuring that all of the stores and street corners were free of crime. He admired how far this place had come since his reign over the School began, but he couldn't but be appalled by the grotesque array of neon lighting. Freeside had always been brutal and disgusting, but it was genuine. Everything was left on the outside. Now, House had candy-coated the entire place and its identity had been swallowed by New Vegas. Oh, well. The King, despite how unpopular it made him, had chosen fame and wealth in exchange for selling out his home to the man in the ivory tower.

The door to the Kings' School of Impersonation had been left wide open. He walked inside to see a secretary at the desk. He had caught her moving boxes filled with case files from one shelf to another. 

"Any new developments while I was gone, Audrey?" asked The King.

"A few..." replied the gorgeous receptionist. Her short black hair had been coated in grease, presumably from The Kings' nearly endless supply of mousse. "The NCR's envoy was stabbed inside the Ultra-Luxe this evening."

"I know. That has already been handled. I am impressed that word of this unfortunate happening traveled home so quickly. Anything else?" asked The King.

"Yes. An NCR visitor was found dead in her hotel room. Overdose."

"On what?"

Audrey sifted through the box next to her and pulled out a file. "Uh...psycho. There were three syringes on the bedside." 

The King sighed. "I thought we had found the culprit. I suppose someone else is moving dope into Freeside. Put Pacer on this one. It is of utmost importance that we keep contraband away from this district. They are supposed to feel safe here."

Audrey nodded at The King and sparsely typed on her terminal. The King departed upstairs and took several flights until he finally made it to his old room. He knocked at the door.

"Come in."

The King slowly opened the door. On his massive plush bedspread sat a peculiar-looking dame -- a moderately tall woman with long hair, sparsely dyed with colors that did not at all go together -- orange, pink, blue, and black. "Alison. What are you doing here?"

Alison stood and gave some sarcastic semblance of a curtsy. "I'm on vacation, remember? Robert won't dare hand me any contracts while he's having his cute little fucking tea party at the Ultra-Luxe."

"Then why didn't you come see me?"

Alison strolled over to The King and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Because that is a surefire way for him to learn about us."

The King scoffed. "I don't care. What's he going to do -- fire you? If he does that, how is going to make his problems 'disappear' as if they never existed?"

Alison bit her lip and gave a slight nod. "Touche. But it's better this way. Whenever Robert House catches wind of something, he dissects it in that beautiful brain of his until it's laid out into tiny, easily-manipulated pieces."

"Whatever you want. But I can't stay. I was only checking in. Robert pulled me from the meeting, but I suspect that he will grow weary of his visitors and send me back."

"Does he want me to 'take care' of any of them?" muttered Alison.

"No. He is responsible for their well-being. If any of them were to meet an unfortunate-yet-perhaps-fortunate end, it would reflect poorly on this place."

"Fine." Alison gave The King a long embrace and then he was gone. By now, the envoys would be making fools of themselves inside the casinos -- an ample time to talk brass tacks with some of the others he hadn't gotten a chance to converse with.