[color=aba000][u][b]The Meld - Late Afternoon, November 18th[/b][/u][/color] [quote=@Cymbeline90] [u]Sister Genetta Williams - Followers of the Apocalypse [/u] The door swung open and Genetta found herself staring down the barrel of a very serious-looking firearm. Time seemed to freeze. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Kings boys’ lightning reflexes kicking into gear, but even as their hands began the descent to their holsters, her brain had made the calculations. Two women, who looked like ordinary frontier folk, albeit healthy and less radiation-scarred. One of them holding a rifle. No frightening military gadgets, no high-tech sci-fi apparatus. If they truly wanted strangers dead, or to make a terrifying display of force, this wouldn’t be their vanguard: a woman wielding a single rifle. This was familiar to Genetta. It was no dystopian horror, such as an army of mechs or plasma-wielding footsoldiers that might be found in an Enclave bunker. It was a scene that she might encounter walking into a homestead, or a bar in a settlement that had just fended off Legion scouts. A single woman, whose practical frontier hospitality could turn into hostility at the sound of a Raider’s footsteps. Genetta raised her arms in front of the Kings guards in a gesture of placation. Even as she did so, there was a sound from behind her, and she spun around to see another Vault dweller, a male this time. She just had time to process the axe he’d set down beside him (lowered is good! her brain interjected) when he broke into a warm greeting that seemed surreal, given their welcome. The dark-haired woman holding the gun explained. It was as Genetta had suspected - recent aggression from outsiders, always a possibility on the frontier, had sent these three into high alert. The Kings boys relaxed their muscles a notch, and everyone seemed to take a breath. That was fortunate, because the second Vault woman almost jumped on Genetta and began dragging her away by the arm. Genetta did not resist, and the Kings guards trailed behind her, still primed for action, but mollified by the presence of a single unarmed woman. When they were alone, the Vault Dweller burst into an extraordinary monologue. Despite herself, Genetta’s brain began making notes on the flood of cultural information issuing from the young lady’s conversation. Genetta knew body language and customs could vary wildly between settlements, but something told her this young woman was bored, lonely, and very keen for someone new to talk to. [i]I never thought about how lonely it must be for people with the wrong psychological profile to live underground, sealed into a single community. I’ve never met a young lady who’s quite this effusive and forthcoming. Vault-Tec definitely didn’t screen all their initial entrants, let alone their descendants. Quite the opposite - reports suggest that in some Vaults they deliberately chose individuals with vulnerable personalities and placed them in high-stress situations to observe the outcomes. [/i] Genetta swallowed. “Um, Miss… Amber, I think the other lady called you? A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Thank you for being so friendly - I was afraid at first that our reception would be none too friendly. Do you mind if we backtrack a bit? Say, start with introductions? My name’s Miss Genetta Williams. And I’m with a group called the Followers of the Apocalypse. I would love to learn… well, everything about you. And as for us - well, I wouldn’t really say we’re America. We’re part of what’s left on the surface.”[/quote] Amber glanced to the shut egress. If that comprised a tamer reception than expected, the Followers of the Apocalypse endured tragic lifestyles indeed. Pitiable creatures. Whatever this self described surface residue desired, she'd accommodate within reason. Amber mustered a smile, for their sake. "And a pleasure to meet yours! I'm Miss Amber Whitaker, eventually Missus Amber Floyd should my beau ever muster the conviction to pop the question!~" The last sentence's inflection trailed into a mournful sour note, which Amber quickly corrected. "Everything about me… Well, I was born in Floor Eight's Birthing Facility to the King and Queen of Spades. I got assigned the Nine of Hearts, so they transferred me to the Bentons, who nurture hydroponics on Level Three." She whipped from her pocket an old yet nearly pristine condition playing card to that effect. "Mister Benton was a benevolent father figure after his spouse passed. I knew the Whitakers merely as loose acquaintances. As a Heart, I managed the dining facilities, so I had ample conversation opportunities in their daily routine. Apparently they're respectable folk among their kin, operating the electricity generators down on Seven. "My heritage is likely my most interesting aspect," she stated. "The greater portion of my life was expended mopping the floors and sanitizing the machinery, as Nines are instructed. I cross stitch and crochet like everyone else nowadays. I fashion potholders and handkerchiefs at fifteen caps apiece." She snapped her fingers. "I was provided a solo assignment for the Women's Chorus! We compiled a Stephen Foster medley, and I was selected for one stanza of 'Swanee River.' My merit earned me a placement for 'I Heard the Bells' in the wintertime compilation!" She reflected on her prior deeds. "The diner once fended off a Radscorpion, but that's not exceptional, I don't think, certainly not in the wasteland. And furthermore a rather dreary subject." She shuddered at the notion. ---- After awhile, the Colonel Bogey March becomes less timekeeping than farcical. Danny’s and Eve’s footfalls lost rhythm, wholly off sync as their destination came into view. Eve had better views at her height. “Amber talks with some cowgirl before the Meld. A couple strangers are with them.” Nines stopped exercising his harmonica and stowed it. “You shall bring the strangers aside; I’ll discuss with Amber,” he stated. Eve halted, beholding her former subordinate with clear distaste. Floyd continued a few yards ahead before turning back. “Objections?” They locked stares, and Eve blinked. “None… sir.” She resumed pace. Danny quietly exhaled, careful not to disclose how effortlessly she would have overwhelmed his gambit. The Ace tromped ahead, touching Genetta Williams gently on the shoulder, increasing pressure as the Follower was made aware of her presence. “Redirect yourselves over here. We’ll answer your concerns shortly.” Amber lit up at the sight of Eve Cannon in equal parts joy and panic. “Hey, Faye- sorry, Eve! What brings you to-” Eve silenced her with a smile, though her eyes brimmed with curiosity. After stowing the three newcomers carefully at the side wall, she located Bradley and sicced him on them. She then opened the door and passed in. Reflecting briefly on the new situation but reluctantly accepting it, Amber rushed to her beau and enveloped him. To keep from stumbling over, Daniel stepped back and twisted around, using his girlfriend’s momentum to lean her downwards. The gesture was far more romantic than he’d planned but nonetheless appreciated by both lovers. “Sweetheart,” he crooned. “It’s been a few hours. Already I missed you.” Amber melted. This was the romance she sought for so long. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled herself up to kiss him. “For you, honey? I’d wait a lifetime!” Daniel propped Amber up and dusted her off. For a brief moment, the world’s burdens had stepped aside, but he recalled his obligations. “Amber, might we converse in private?” Amber checked the three visitors in the distance who tried to scrounge up discussion with the would-be axe murderer. “We are ‘in private,’ honey.” “No, I’d prefer a getaway,” he clarified. Amber gasped. Such a romantic showing, followed by the desire for privacy together, implied a very specific matter. She caught her breath. “Yes, certainly, as faraway as you desire.” She squealed silently as Daniel guided her. Nines couldn’t get straight to business. “How’s everyone holding up?” “Fine, fine,” Amber stated, restraining herself from bursting with energy. Amid the emotional commotion, a data point did arise. “Faye arrived today, recently in fact! She wants to live here in exile, if you’d permit. She submitted to your jurisdiction (her words). You’ve picked up her sister, it appears!” Daniel looked to the Meld’s doorway. Whatever combustion he’d have expected it to cause, no heard no proof of ignition. Best not to ruminate on the situation. [color=aba000][u][b]Horowitz Farmstead - Evening, November 18th[/b][/u][/color] He nodded towards his beloved to signal their destination. “So, I’ll cut to the chase. I talked with Don Omerta, who pledges to contribute soldiers and freshwater in exchange for pre-war technology and the technicians to utilize it.” Amber cocked her head, staring blankly into a small patch of dirt. “To what end?” Daniel nodded. “I’m usurping Vault 48, and concluding its infighting.” “Okay.” “That’s it? You’ve no qualms with the endeavor?” Daniel’s jaw was agape. She fixated upon him. “Danny, honey, I followed you outside the Vault, to the furthest perimeters of our faction. I forfeit my life to venture beside you. I’d stick my head in a Deathclaw’s jaws if needs must. If we travel homeward to end this odyssey, then what a blessing it’s been! I’ll remember this in frailty and old age.” Amber clutched her beau’s palm for effect. "No ambition of yours will deter me. Nobody else on Earth valued me as you did. We huddled alone against the world's machinations; I would perish if I let go. Between you and any other mortal thing, you are my volition." With his free hand, Daniel brushed his fingers through her fiery bobbed hair. Beyond upholding Henry’s legacy, far beyond the pacification, he now knew the end purpose of his schemes. “I will adorn you in gold and silv- no, platinum and rhodium. Silver is beneath you. You’ll wear the finest silks, or the comfiest fabrics. Fresh flowers will daily rest upon your head. You’ll bear gemstones crafted a millennium ago, a continent away. When those inevitably pale in luster beside you, I’ll hire tinkers to cut new gemstones to match your beauty. If the world comes to a second apocalypse, the survivors will recognize you by name. They’ll call you the Last Great Queen among Men.” Amber chuckled as she parsed Daniel’s Dutch beard with her own digits. “If you intend to drown me in luxury, honey, remember me as I was now.” She pecked him on the cheek. “So, that’s all?” Nines blinked. “Yes… that’s what I desired to share. Why do you ask?” Amber deflated slightly, perusing her surroundings. The quaint scenery was serviceable. Streetlights from olden days failed their function in the nautical twilight. Vines clung to rustic ruins with vain intentions. “Well, in an area this secluded, I’d hoped for… a romantic benchmark of sorts?” It took Floyd a full minute to realize the implications. “Ah. Okay, I mean, if you wanted it presently.” He pulled out a box and unveiled the brass fitting within. “Remember when the ice cream machine broke? You recruited me to find the missing fixture. I did, eventually, after it was already replaced. Anyways, I regarded those times fondly, as a first date of sorts. I’d saved this for an opportune occasion, but,” he shrugged, “What the heck. Wanna get hitched?” The Nine of Hearts threw herself around the Nine of Clubs. “Absolutely! Of course, yes!” Daniel felt small droplets on his shoulder. “That is simultaneously the most romantic, yet charmless proposal! You truly are hopeless, aren’t you, Danny?” Floyd grinned. “That bad, huh? If you don’t approve of it-” “It surpasses all the gold in the world!” Amber seized the brass ring and placed it on her finger. Though Daniel had estimated cautiously, the perfect fit still astonished him. “So, shall we go inform the troupe?” he propositioned. Amber wiped her tears. “I will if you won’t!” [color=aba000][u][b]The Meld - Evening, November 18th[/b][/u][/color] Charlotte’s cocked lever action was the least tense element regarding the reunion. Faye’s face was flush. Eve barely maintained composure. As an infant would take first steps, Faye paced herself towards her long lost friend. They promptly broke into lunges towards each other. In the split second between launch and impact, Isabel’s eyes beckoned Charlotte to pull the trigger. Charlotte strained her better judgment to avoid doing so. The sisters embraced, with strong surety that only familial passion instigated. Palms outstretched across each other’s spines; their arms pressed themselves closer together. The kitchen chair creaked as Isabel relaxed upon it. Faye’s words would be indiscernible amid her breaking voice had they not been repeated frequently. “I’m so sorry," "I’m glad you’re safe," "It’s good to see you again," "Please forgive me.” Eve had had a brief moment to mentally prepare herself. Then again, she always managed her emotions more methodically. Her chin hovered over her sister's shoulder. Her mouth pressed against Faye's head. The same waterworks flowed, but her words started with “There, there;” “There’s nothing to pardon;” “It’s alright now,” descending in volume until the lone possible receptor in range of Eve’s voice was Faye’s ear. The length Eve took to speak to her former rival was slightly too long for sweet nothings. Gradually, Faye’s muscles weakened, until she less embraced her sister than clung to her for stability. Eve's firm, sororal grasp alone kept her from collapsing. Isabel nodded to Charlotte. “That’s genuine leadership, there. I’m grateful to be honored by the presence of the Ace of Diamonds.” Faye pulled away from her sister, struggling to keep upright. “I can do that,” she vowed. She passed an uneasy glance to Isabel, then to Charlotte. “Be valiant for my sake. For both of ours,” Eve assured. Charlotte took a deep breath. “Well. You both have ventured far. Can I fetch either of you refreshments?” Eve complied with social norms, to a point. "I'll check the pantry, if it pleases you." She meandered over to the food cabinet to parse through the offerings. She pointed a digit at a small box, soon palming it as a basketball player would the ball. "Toast'ems. They don't serve these anymore back at base." "Good riddance," Isabel countered. "Tasteless empty calories, the bunch. Give me bacon and eggs." "Hey, I appreciate Toast'ems!" Eve protested. Isabel immediately surrendered the argument. "What will you have, Faye? Toasted Oats? Apple Bits? Fruit Rings?" Faye had selected a chair and now silently perused the table's intricacies. "Whatever works, I guess." "She likes Apple Bits," Eve covered as she fetched a bowl and poured out a decent helping. "Milk powder didn't arrive with the latest shipment," Charlotte cautioned. "She'll eat them dry." Eve pushed the bowl to Faye, who reeled it in in catatonic fashion. Spotting her sister's hesitance, Eve opened her own pack. "You know, Toast'ems come in packs of twos." She unsheathed a frosted thin rectangular pastry and with its corner poked Faye's nose. Faye puffed out a small burst of air, revealing a smile. Whatever ailment befell her slowly evaporated. "Which flavor is this one? There are only a couple quality ones." At once, the door opened. “I got engaged!” Amber exclaimed. Had she announced it from Black Mountain, they’d have heard it on the Strip. It filled the homestead with pure volume. Danny with hands outstretched quipped casually: “She said yes! Can you believe a fellow like me would find a damsel that gorgeous, eh?” “We must definitely have something special, then!” Charlotte commented, rattling her noggin to keep it from ringing. “How’s about pie?”