[u][b]Danny "Nines" Floyd: Northwest Passage, "Meld" Outward Base: Middle Afternoon, October 15th[/b][/u]

Daniel knelt and sampled the soil beneath him. Wet yet coarse, it gave him the desire to wash immediately. It smelt burnt, but it wasn't radioactive. He rose. Dirt that was safe to touch was fit for plants. Past a mop of blonde strands, Floyd gazed up at a house a few minutes' walk from where he planted his feet. In the future, that structure would be completely blocked from view by the uncountable stalks of the settlement's first harvest. Whether he survived to see the dream come true, his imagination painted a vivid landscape around him. He felt at peace, at home, even if his birthplace was a week's travel away.

Settled with his survey, he picked up a backpack from the ground and slung it over his shoulder. He approached the entrance and knocked a pattern upon it, reminiscent of morse code. In seconds, the door opened, and a dark-haired woman filled the doorway. "Nines. You've returned earlier than expected."

"Trade was easy; salvage was easier." Danny passed her towards a kitchen space and unslung his pack onto a table. "To be fair, Charlotte, your requests weren't too cumbersome to obtain."

Charlotte followed him and unpacked his sack, sine asking permission. "Finally; a trowel!" she exclaimed. She held up the handheld metal tool. "I'm surprised how infrequently I find them. Weeding will become much simpler. The creeping Green had almost gotten the better of me." She stowed it in a drawer. "You could have accomplished more downtown."

"Then take the spare time now and reserve it for when I arrive late," Dan replied. "You're never this strict about my schedules. Something wrong?"
"Charlotte, I'm ready for-" A prematurely balding man turned the corner, pausing mid-sentence. "Nines! Why are you-"
"Bradley, just... save it for a later day," Charlotte sighed.
Bradley left the scene, muttering a lack of acceptance. "But we were going to-"
"Stow it," Charlotte resolved, reevaluating the precious loot from the bag. "These are candles. I'll put them aside for Amber. Do you remember her reason?"
"Happy Trails had a demand," Daniel explained. "They wouldn't part with their oil lamps otherwise."
"And what's our purpose for lanterns?"
"Gee, so our bedtime isn't sundown? So we can read and hobby with the civilized folk?"

Another rapping sounded. Floyd knew the sequence; he apparently wasn't the only adventurer who finished early. A slender female redhead walked in, and Floyd sauntered forth to greet her. "Amber! Welcome back!"

Amber threw her arms out wide and enveloped Danny in a warm embrace. "It's good to be where I belong again!"
Bradley reentered, musing at the couple. "We used to be like that, Charlotte."
Charlotte smiled at the memory. "Alright, since we're all present, I suppose we ought to report on our happenings."
Daniel began. "The whole town's riled up. The NCR's assembling a hasty squad and assigning them to the Mojave Checkpoint."
Everyone remained silent for a moment. Bradley piped up. "And you didn't consider that important enough to investigate? If it's not a border skirmish, it's likely a bigwig figure, I reckon."

Daniel guided the assembly to be seated. "I suspect it regards internal Republic business."
"Forgive me for speaking matters of state out of turn," Charlotte apologized, "but Henry Hinshaw, the Ace of Clubs, explicitly stated that our mission was-"
"To establish a network of contacts and cement our sovereignty in the region. I am well aware, Queen of Spades," Daniel interrupted. "I simply thought that a sloppy troop exercise wasn't worth my paranoia." He emptied the rest of his bag's contents. "Nonetheless, if you three would appreciate our representation at this Californian event, I have nothing else to do with my night. I'll stock up for a journey." He stood up. "I will be taking Bradley's hunting rifle, though. It has a nicer scope than my lever action."
Bradley nodded. "My service for Vault 48."

Amber rose to meet him. "Be careful out there, okay? For me."
Daniel ran a hand through her bobbed hair. "I don't care if you're the Nine of Hearts; you'll always be my queen."
"And you're my king, honey!" Amber assured.
"Break it up, lovebirds," Bradley announced, fetching his firearm and tossing it to Floyd. "Be certain to inform us in the morning."

[u][b]New Vegas Strip: Evening, October 15th[/b][/u]

Danny rerouted to ensure that he received whatever VIP the west decided to throw at him. He still considered this duty pointless, but he at least appreciated a proper neighborhood stroll.

Of course, the gunshot forced him to recalculate.

Danny readied his gun and breathed deeply. Regardless of the magnitude of this encounter, there lay some opportunity... and potential death. He jogged forward down the streets to the source of the noise: a caravan on horseback, escorted by a miniature army. This was far above his pay grade. He pointed his hands and rifle skyward, announcing his presence to the convoy.

"Don't shoot; I bear tidings of goodwill!" If they continued without him, he'd attempt to match their pace, futile as his efforts might be. If not, he'd relax and approach them diplomatically. He silently wished he'd brought backup, heck, the whole gang. "Daniel Floyd, regional commander and envoy of the Pinochle Expedition. Pleased to make your acquaintance. With whom do I speak?"