[color=aba000][u][b]Danny "Nines" Floyd - Gomorrah Mezzanine - Early Afternoon, November 18th[/b][/u][/color]

Daniel instinctively thought to direct the Omertas homeward, but he couldn’t guarantee the willing participation of all inhabitants. Isabel particularly would hoist his noggin on a pike. Who among the colonists would he entrust with such precarious secrecy? Amber was broadly apathetic to the internal struggle, and her adoration of him surpassed her loyalty to the homeland. Apparently the sentiment was mutual, as he’d committed high treason. "The Meld's diner (on Vegas's northern perimeter) closed for flood relief efforts. Have your envoy ask for breakfast and, failing that, express intention to converse with either myself or Amber. That should maintain confidentiality."

A free wedding, a further debt, was hardly Danny’s interest. Amber regaled her dream marriage aplenty to Daniel, and casinos were far from that vision. The only category beneath that would be Vaults, Dominic’s secondary option. Daniel would locate a facility independently, but nonetheless wished to part in amicability.

He stood up and refit his newsboy’s cap. “You humble me, Don. I’ll relay your choices once I propose to my beloved, whom I intend to give the ultimate decision on these matters. I do hope to introduce her; she’s the fiery beacon of solace in the wretched world post apocalypse. My own personal Lady Liberty.” He bowed humbly. “With your permission, I’ll arrange to set the pieces in motion.” With a faint smile, he departed.

[color=aba000][u][b]Danny "Nines" Floyd - Gomorrah Front Entrance - Early Afternoon, November 18th[/b][/u][/color]

No sooner had he reached the exit than he spotted an unexpected, perhaps unwelcome familiar face of yellow hair and lightly tanned complexion. Her heated discussion with the doorway security likely centered around the canine sitting patiently at her hip. Was that Shuffles? Gosh, Daniel last encountered him as a puppy. The mutt had grown swiftly!

That mere distraction alone kept Daniel from a heart attack. At first sign of rebellion, the Aces' champion appeared at the conspiracy's location. Maybe the Gomorrah had a backdoor-

Eve Cannon hailed him. “Nines! What are you doing here?”

Daniel swallowed and approached. “Salutations, Eve. I could say the same.”

“I’m honorably exiled,” announced the Ace. “I’ll visit your base of operations soon. I figured it’s been a while since I enjoyed myself. A few drinks can’t hurt, right? What of yourself?”

Quick wit summoned, “Simply congratulating Dominic Omerta for tying the knot. I brought Amber’s potholders.”

“Pleasant,” the Ace remarked. “So, considering the pets policy at this establishment, shall we stroll back to your home?”

Several miles alongside the enemy. What fun. “It’d be an honor. I’m certain we’ll find revelry along the way.”

[color=aba000][u][b]The Meld - Afternoon, November 18th[/b][/u][/color]

Charlotte focused attention beyond the wooden barrier. “I’m hearing footsteps and conversation. It's no lone wanderer.”

“Apologies for the accidental deception,” Faye explained. “I just saw the one.”

Charlotte inspected the chamber of her rifle. “I reckon two others, judging by the pattern of sounds. One’s currently monologuing. Amber, would you mind opening the door? I'd prefer both hands on my firearm.”

“Certainly, boss!” Amber complied, her perky demeanor unfitting of the potentially tense situation. When the entrance was opened, Charlotte lifted the barrel toward the newcomer’s forehead. “State your intentions.” The reckless and astute might notice no loaded cartridge through the tube.

Charlotte spent a moment to glance past her guests. At a most inopportune time, Bradley had returned from collecting driftwood, softly arriving at the ensemble's rear with his ax in hand. Misinterpreting the scenario, he’d discarded his bounty and prepared to strike. He raised his chin, expectant of a signal to commence.

“Why haven’t you pulled the trigger yet?” Isabel demanded.

Unruly ebony strands of hair fell across Charlotte's countenance to hinder her view, but she wouldn't deviate from gripping her lever action. “Be patient,” Charlotte insisted. "I'm waiting."

Bradley interpreted that he was to instigate the combat. He swung his ax backward and silently charged forward. Thank God that his wife's keen perception caught him. “Stop, Bradley!”

Bradley redirected the metal head's momentum to his left, striking the soil beside the visitors. His stealth purposely ruined, he acquired an air of joviality and extended a formal salutation. “Pleasure to meet you! I’m Bradley Lewis, Jack of Diamonds.”

Charlotte sighed. “And I’m Charlotte Lewis, Queen of Spades. Matrimonial relations, not blood. Please forgive our… unorthodox greetings; this is the second gun related standoff we’ve weathered in under an hour. I still ought to deal with fallout from the former, so, if you’ll excuse me,” she provided a wry, mildly embarrassed grin. “Bradley, I need strength. Inside. Amber, would you-”

Before Charlotte concluded her sentence, Amber jumped out from behind the door, grabbing the female Follower’s shoulder and walking her away from the structure and towards the homestead's quieter parts. Finally, an opportunity to unload her gossip! She watched for Bradley to close her egress, then rattled off her baggage. “Alright, so for Failfest – it’s a festival on October 28 that celebrates multiple things malfunctioning simultaneously; don’t worry about it – for that, Danny – he’s the leader of our local branch – decided to declare independence from Vault 48 for a day. Now, we unanimously enjoy that idea. So, how do Americans celebrate freedom?”

Amber didn’t wait appropriately for an answer; her speeding mental faculties must have implied a response from her guest. “Fireworks and apple pie, exactly! But they stopped exporting apples a year ago, so Charlotte resolves to bake a cake instead. Fair enough. I design the Pinochle Expedition's flag, which adorns the confection via the icing. We have orange, black, and green for food coloring after celebrating the Fourth of July because those luxuries are usually shipped in April – go figure – but I fabricate something that looks decent. And to top it off, we have sparklers that will be inserted into the batter. We constructed a makeshift table outdoors, so we place our creation outside and light the sparklers. Thing is, Bradley had placed the fireworks below the surface so they wouldn’t get soaked in any potential rain. A spark flies off and hits the explosive powder. The table, the dessert, the entire assortment gets blown to smithereens! Thankfully we revel at a comfortable distance, so none are injured. Charlotte cries for hours, but, I dunno, I suppose that matches the spirit of the holiday, don’t you?”

Amber blinked and paused, as if to refresh herself. In her vain desire to talk from weeks of relative silence, she’d overlooked the desires of her newfound acquaintance. “I’m sorry; did you have anything to share?”