❝ ── WASTELAND, BABY !

[vaermina]

ＷＥ＇ＬＬ ＷＡＴＣＨ ＴＨＥ ＤＥＡＴＨ ＯＦ ＴＨＥ ＳＵＮ ! ! !
─ 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑱𝑬𝑨𝑵𝑺 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑶𝑵 ─
⊰ THEN YOU'LL GAZE UNAFRAID AS THEY SOB FROM THE CITY ROOFS ! I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU ! ⊱

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a post-nuclear apocalyptic
one x one between house v
ae with themes/concepts i
nspired by fallout, star war
s, etc. do not post unless y
ou are one of us.

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☢


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━━━━━ ＷＨＥＮ ＴＨＥ ＳＴＥＮＣＨ ＯＦ ＴＨＥ ＳＥＡ

-- ━━━
⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ LYRICS BY HOZIER ! ⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯

┏xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx''┓

" time to cash out. " "would you get it over wi
th?" " maybe bandits kill people without loo
king them in the face but i ain't a fink, dig?
ah, sorry you got twisted up in this scene,
kid. from where you're kneeling it must se
em like an 18-carat run of bad luck. truth
is.. the game was rigged from the start. "

┗xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx''┛

--━ 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖲𝖤𝖤𝖭 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖴𝖭𝖲𝖤𝖤𝖭 ! ! ! ━

𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 ! ! !

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[vaermina]

──────── ＡＬＬ ＴＨＥ ＦＥＡＲ ＡＮＤ ＡＬＬ ＴＨＥ ＦＩＲＥ ＯＦ ＴＨＥ ＥＮＤ ＯＦ ＴＨＥ ＷＯＲＬＤ ────────

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" in the year 2077, after years of armed conflict between some of the
world's strongest superpowers, atomic fire consumed the earth. those
who survived fled into great, underground vaults; others perished in a
n abyss of nuclear fire and radiation. whatever remained of humankin
d above ground barely survived the harsh conditions. after nearly thre
e centuries, the vaults opened and the vault-dwellers were exposed t
o a new world of blood, fire and anarchy. the vault's inhabitants set of
f across the ruins of the old world to create a new society. the nuclear
holocaust was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. inste
ad, the apocalypse was simply the prologue to another chapter of bloo
dy human history for man had succeeded in destroying the world. "

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xfollowed by flashes, blinding flashes...
┌────────┐

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TIME PERIOD: MID JANUA
RY, YEAR OF 2433, 355 YE
ARS AFTER THE GREAT NU
CLEAR WAR OF 2077

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└────────┘

x

xsounds of explosions... we're... we're
┌────────┐

│
│

SETTING: THE UNITED ST
ATES OF AMERICA AND TH
E DESOLATE RUINS OF FO
RMER ANNEXED CANADA

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└────────┘

x

xtrying to get confirmation... um... con
┌────────┐

│
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│

LOCATIONS: THE COMMO
NWEALTH, THE DIXON WA
STELAND, THE BADLANDS,
NEW CALIFORNIA, THE OD
AWA DESERT; THE PROVIN
CES OF ANNEXED CANADA

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└────────┘
xfirmed reports. i repeat, confirmed rep
xorts of nuclear denotations in new york
xand pennsylvania. my god... ── LAST NA
xTIONAL BROADCAST OF CNN, OCT 2077

xxxxx

[vaermina]

──── ＡＳ ＹＯＵＲ ＰＲＥＳＩＤＥＮＴ， Ｉ ＡＭ ＴＨＥ ＨＥＡＲＴ ＡＮＤ ＳＯＵＬ ＯＦ ＴＨＥ ＣＯＮＣＬＡＶＥ．． 𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐼𝑆 𝑇𝑂 𝑆𝐴𝑌, 𝐼 𝐴𝑀 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝑅𝑇 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝑆𝑂𝑈𝐿 𝑂𝐹 𝐴𝑀𝐸𝑅𝐼𝐶𝐴. ─── PRESIDENT REHAN MORGAN, STATE OF THE UNION ADDRESS, FEBRUARY 1ST, 2431

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ＷＥ＇ＲＥ ＷＯＲＫＩＮＧ ＴＩＲＥＬＥＳＳＬＹ ＴＯ ＲＥＢＵＩＬＤ
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ＴＨＩＳ ＮＡＴＩＯＮ ＳＯ ＹＯＵ ＤＯＮ＇Ｔ ＨＡＶＥ ＴＯ !

┌─────────────────┐

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the conclave is a self-proclaimed continuation of the pre-w
ar united states government. the conclave has patterned it
self after its predecessors. its structure is scaled down to a
smaller size but contains the same branches as its pre-war
counterpart; led by a president, judicial branch, legislativ
e branch, executive branch and congress, the conclave co
nsiders itself the leading authority of the united states. it
boasts the largest military presence in the country & is res
ponsible for numerous revolutionary advances in the scient
ific field. as the largest government entity in the country,
the conclave has developed its own society and culture w
ith the reemergence of entertainment, recreation, acade
mics, business and prosperity. their advanced technology
& affluent lifestyles are a result of former generations liv
ing in the underground vaults, where academics and scien
tific advancement were highly valued and pushed upon.
the conclave is credited for bringing about a new era, on
e that has not been seen since before the great war. the
conclave's rule is not one that is readily welcomed across

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┏ for citizens of the wasteland, the thought of the conclave causing the sky to fall down upon them and destroy their livelihoods is a very real threat. ┛
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𝑹𝑬𝑩𝑼𝑰𝑳𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑨❜𝑺 𝑭𝑼𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑬 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑨𝒀 ! ! !
x
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LOADING
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hybrid dictatorshi
p CONSTITUTION
AL FEDERAL REPUB
LIC / STRONG MILI
TARY militarism F
AITH IN OUR LEAD
ERS political viole
nce THRIVING ECO
NOMY famine REB

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┌──────┐

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UILDING OUR CITIE
S massacres & cult
ural assimilation S
CIENTIFIC BREAKT
HROUGHS playing
god PATRIOTISM n
ationwide hysteria
& social tension R
ULE OF LAW corru
ption EQUALITY b
lood purity & abol
ition of civil rights

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┏ remember kids, the next time someone tells you "the government wouldn't do that!" oh yes they would. there are evil forces at work in those halls. ┛
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⊰ 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦... 𝗜𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗣 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗦𝗘, 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧. 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗔𝗗𝗩𝗜𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗙𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗗, 𝗦𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗔𝗥, 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗞𝗘... ⊱ ─── RECORDING OF JOHN TRINITY'S SERMON, THE DISCIPLES OF EDEN [ NEW CALIFORNIA, AUGUST OF 2431 ]

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the country, though. the conclave is notorious f
or its blood purity agenda. the conclave has ado
pted the position that its members are the last
remaining bastion of humanity on earth and th
at cohabitation with perceived mutants is a sh
aky alliance at best. the conclave's harsh & do
wnright dictatorial rule over the wasteland's in
habitants has bred feelings of distrust and bitt
erness between the two groups, effectively hi
ndering the conclave's conquest over subduing
the waste. the conclave's most formidable asse
t is its military; the government relies heavily
on their armed support to help achieve their g
oals of assimilation, urbanization and extermi
nation. the citizens of the conclave are relativ
ely isolated from their wasteland neighbors. t
hey reside in their own cities, towns and milit
ary bases where they are spoon-fed conclave p
ropaganda & indoctrination since birth.

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[vaermina]

── ＷＥＬＬ， ＴＨＥ ＷＯＲＬＤ ＢＲＯＫＥ ＬＩＫＥ ＧＬＡＳＳ． ＡＮＤ ＥＶＥＲＹＯＮＥ＇Ｓ ＴＲＹＩＮＧ ＴＯ ＰＵＴ ＩＴ ＢＡＣＫ ＴＯＧＥＴＨＥＲ ＬＩＫＥ ＩＴ ＷＡＳ. . . 𝐵𝑈𝑇 𝐼𝑇'𝐿𝐿 𝑁𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅 𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐸 𝑇𝑂𝐺𝐸𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝐴𝑀𝐸 𝑊𝐴𝑌. ── UNKNOWN WASTELANDER

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Ａ ＷＡＳＴＥＬＡＮＤ ＩＳ Ａ ＣＯＮＦＲＯＮＴＡＴＩＯＮ ＴＯ Ａ
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ＭＡＮ ＯＦ ＳＴＡＴＵＲＥ; ＴＨＥＲＥ＇Ｓ ＦＥＡＲ ＩＮ ＤＵＳＴ

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wastelanders are the dominant population of the wastelan
d, most notably recognized as those who are born in the w
aste and live simple lives as settlers, farmers, craftsmen,
mercenaries and merchants. they are commonly referred
to as 'tainted-bloods' by the conclave population. the des
cendants of those who were not able to seek shelter in va
ults from the atomic bombs during the great war, wastela
nders are a hardy and unfettered people who populate ev
ery inch of viable territory in the united states. most of t
hem live within the safe confines of cities, towns and set
tlements but some can be found working the lands of isol
ated farmsteads or living in the ruins of old pre-war muni
cipalities. wastelanders are hardly an advanced people; h
aving lived in the ruins of the wasteland for centuries, the
y prefer to live superannuated lifestyles belonging to almo
st anachronistic periods of time. most wastelanders are su
spicious of advanced technology and industrialization, and
refuse to be governed by the likes of the conclave. wastel
and society is fundamental like that but contrary to popul

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┏ the citizens of the wasteland are an independent & fierce people, so much so that it has grown increasingly difficult for the conclave to civilize them. ┛
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𝑯𝑬𝑳𝑷 𝑼𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑹𝑬𝑩𝑼𝑰𝑳𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑫 ! ! !
x
x

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LOADING
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UNKNOWN CENSU
S / VARIOUS RELI
GIONS (christian
ity, the worship
of addam, order
of the akir & the
draelyn princes)
/ BASIC, BLUE-CO
LLAR JOB INDUST

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TRY (agriculture,
construction, ma
nual labor, crafti
ng) / THOUSAND
S OF VILLAGES, T
OWNS, CITIES &
HAMLETS ACROS
S THE COUNTRY
/ JUSTICE AND
LOCAL LAWS SE
RVED BASED ON
AREA & CRIME

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┏ the wasteland population is a hardworking group but notoriously uneducated, suspicious & fiercely superstitious. it will cost many of them their lives. ┛
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⊰ 𝗜𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗘𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗗𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗖𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗜𝗘𝗦, 𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗪. 𝗪𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗔𝗥 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧 𝗚𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗢𝗣𝗟𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝗕𝗔𝗗 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟... ⊱ ─── RECORDING OF HARDIN MCDONOUGH, THE PRESIDENT OF THE RED RANGERS [ NEW CALIFORNIA, MAY OF 2428 ]

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ar opinion, they are not an entirely philistine gr
oup. there is a sense of community amongst mos
t of the wastelanders living in the same area, &
wastelanders who happen to share the same reli
gion & beliefs may even choose to celebrate with
one another. holidays are spent with neighbors &
city residents may even come to recognize and b
efriend those they regularly purchase goods from.
unsurprisingly, these pleasant & noble displays of
body politic do not sway the residents of the ca
pital city and beyond. they consider wastelande
rs to be uneducated, stubborn, violent and bord
erline savage for relations between the governm
ent and the wasteland population has never bee
n strong. wastelanders feel like they cannot trus
t any government entity after being left to rot i
n an irradiated hell following the great war - an
d even today, wastelanders are frequent targets
of bandit and conclave-sanctioned violence.

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[vaermina]

──── ＷＥ ＳＨＡＬＬ ＳＥＥ ＨＯＷ ＢＲＡＶＥ ＹＯＵ ＡＲＥ ＷＨＥＮ ＮＡＩＬＥＤ ＴＯ ＴＨＥ ＷＡＬＬＳ ＯＦ ＴＨＥ ＭＯＲＧＡＮ ＤＡＭ，𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝐵𝑂𝐷𝑌 𝐹𝐴𝐶𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑊𝐸𝑆𝑇 𝑆𝑂 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝑀𝐴𝑌 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝐶𝐻 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐿𝐷 𝐷𝐼𝐸 ─── LEGATUS TITUS, OFFICER OF MESSALINA'S LEGION

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ＤＯ ＹＯＵ ＬＩＫＥ ＴＨＥ ＳＩＧＨＴ ＯＦ ＹＯＵＲ ＯＷＮ
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ＢＬＯＯＤ ？ＷＨＡＴ Ａ ＢＥＡＵＴＩＦＵＬ ＤＡＹ ＴＯ ＫＩＬＬ !

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bandits, also known as raiders and outlaws, are violent in
dividuals who survive by murder, robbery and plundering. f
ound all across the united states, bandits typically prey on
lone travelers, small towns and weak settlements though i
n greater numbers (such as wulfgang) bandits can pose a th
reat to entire regions. most bandit gangs are short-lived an
d loosely organized without any driving purpose beyond bas
ic survival and psychotic thrills; others last long enough to f
orm strong ranks and unique cultures based on raiding and
anarchist/radical beliefs. the strength of bandit gangs depe
nds on their size, members, beliefs and leaders. some band
it gangs are technologically advanced with turret guns, pow
er armor and weapons stolen from the conclave; others are
lawless, chaotic and destitute. bandits pledge allegiance to
no faction and only follow those who favor violence, bedla
m, criminality and survival of the fittest. most bandit group
s have little driving purpose while others seek domination o
ver other bandit groups and the wasteland as a whole.

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┏ bandits are the scourge of the wasteland. with a power hierarchy based on pure ruthlessness, they will attack anyone at any time... for any reason. ┛
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𝑫𝑬𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑺 𝑩𝑬𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑶𝑵 𝑨 𝑪𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑺 ! ! ! !
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LOADING
FILES:

THE BANDIT KING
SKULL FACE
EVE
MESSALINA
FLETCH
STRYKER
ARLO
VAAS
PORTER PAIGE

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┌──────┐

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THE FIREHAWK
(now known as
abel whitlock)
WARD
THANASIS
LEGATE TITUS
KRUZGORGH
ALDAN THE N
IGHTMARE
LADY BULLET
TOOTH
RACALLIO

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┏ bandits are vicious killers and believe in a 'dog-eat-dog world' mindset. they are responsible for the thrall trade and the underground black market. ┛
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⊰ 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥... 𝗪𝗘 𝗛𝗨𝗡𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗦𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗜𝗘𝗥𝗦 ... 𝗪𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗔𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟 ... 𝗪𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗦𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 𝗔𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗜𝗘 ... 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗛 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ? 𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗪𝗢𝗟𝗩𝗘𝗦 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗦𝗢 𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗛𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗥𝗬 ... ⊱ ─── RADIO TRANSMISSION FROM UNKNOWN WULFGANG OFFICER [ NO MAN'S LAND, MAY OF 2423 ]

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bandits embrace chaos and lives their lives in bl
ody glee. they do not follow local or federal law
s and most bandit gangs consider the conclave t
o be their biggest enemy. over the past few dec
ades, the government and bandit clans have fou
ght over land, resources and domination in num
erous parts of the wasteland. some bandit gangs
are easy to exterminate; others have grown larg
e and advanced enough to hold their ground. ba
ndit culture revolves around glory, guts and bloo
d. most bandits have forsaken their old identitie
s and go by nicknames; some forge a reputation
for themselves based on their callousness and th
irst for violence. some bandit gangs such as ten
knives and the skinner gang have been destroye
d by the conclave through extensive military ca
mpaigns; others have become large enough to e
stablish themselves as a frontier threat to the c
apital city and large wastelander cities.

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[vaermina]

── ＴＨＥ ＧＲＯＵＰＳ ＯＵＴ ＴＨＥＲＥ． ＬＯＯＫ ＡＴ ＷＨＡＴ ＴＨＥＹ＇ＲＥ ＡＳＫＩＮＧ ＹＯＵ ＴＯ ＤＯ． ＷＨＡＴ ＳＯＲＴ ＯＦ ＷＯＲＬＤ ＴＨＥＹ＇Ｄ ＨＡＶＥ ＹＯＵ ＢＵＩＬＤ 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐻𝑂𝑊 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑌'𝑅𝐸 𝐺𝑂𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑇𝑂 𝑃𝐴𝑌 𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝐼𝑇. ── UNKNOWN REBEL

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ＦＲＥＥＤＯＭ ＩＳ ＴＨＥ ＬＩＢＥＲＴＹ ＴＯ ＤＯ ＡＳ ＹＯＵ
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ＯＵＧＨＴ， ＮＯＴ ＴＯ ＤＯ ＷＨＡＴ ＹＯＵ ＰＬＥＡＳＥ

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the rebellion, also known as the revolution, the undergrou
nd resistance and the freedom fighters, is a revolutionary
movement with the primary aim of freeing the country fr
om the grips of the current fascist government. their exa
ct origins are unknown but reports of rebel activity began
to surface a little over fifty years ago when the conclave
declared itself the new head of the united states. they a
re largely a secretive group, preferring to lurk and strike
out from the shadows before fleeing into the safety of th
e dark. it is in evidence that the rebellion has been beate
n down many times over the years but its clandestine nat
ure has ensured the group's survival in the long run. the r
ebellion prefers stealth and sabotage when it comes to hi
ndering the conclave's operations which include but are n
ot limited to small-scale sabotage, supply train ambushes,
guerrilla warfare tactics and the spreading of anti-conclav
e propaganda. the rebellion has also dabbled in the rescu
e of conclave dregs, believing that the androids are entitl
ed to the freedom intrinsically enjoyed by human beings a

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┏ the rebellion is divided between those who believe they must continue their stealth tactics versus those who believe they must be more belligerent. ┛
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𝑮𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑰𝑩𝑬𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑶𝑹 𝑮𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑴𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 ! ! !
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LOADING
FILES:

SMALL-SCALE SAB
OTAGE / SPREADI
NG OF ANTI-CONC
LAVE PROPAGAND
A / COLLECTED IN
TELLIGENCE / GU
ERRILLA WARFARE
/ FORT RAIDS & A
RCHIVE THEFT / H

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IDING & SHELTER
ING REFUGGES &
ENEMIES OF THE
CONCLAVE REGI
ME / PUBLIC ST
RIKES & PROTES
TS / ASSISTING
ESCAPED DREGS
INTO HIDING /
SMUGGLING &
AMBUSHES / R
ADIO JAMMING

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┏ it is difficult to join the rebellion without an insider to help you. many claim if you follow the 'freedom trail', you'll find the rebels in the badlands. ┛
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⊰ 𝗕𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗦 𝗜𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗦𝗞 𝗠𝗘. 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬❜𝗥𝗘 𝗚𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗔 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗩𝗘𝗦 𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧? 𝗠𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗕𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡? 𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗖𝗛𝗬? 𝗕𝗨𝗧, 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗘𝗖𝗛 𝗦𝗢 𝗜 𝗚𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬❜𝗥𝗘 𝗢𝗞𝗔𝗬... ⊱ ─── STATEMENT OF MADELINE SYTH, A CITY TECHNICIAN AND REBEL INFORMANT OF ENTERPRISE HALL [ UNKNOWN DATE ]

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s well as emancipation from their government mast
rs. they may even go as far as altering the dregs' m
emories and features to further provide them a cle
an slate. the rebellion may be an elusive organizati
on but they have eyes everywhere. agents infiltrate
towns, cities and other wasteland factions to gather
intel while other rebels serve a support role in esta
blishing safehouses, manning outposts, stashing sto
olen supplies, marking locations with rebellion insig
nia and sabotaging enemy fortifications. in some ca
ses, they may even anonymously sponsor food drive
s, field hospitals & other local emergency aid to bo
ost morale amongst the wasteland population. the
rebellion is secretly revered and admired by much
of the wasteland's residents. however, following th
e rebellion's numerous blunders & violent acts agai
nst the conclave, a catastrophic civil war will ensu
e between the revolution & the government, with
a death toll not seen since the great war of 2077.

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[vaermina]

⊰ ＷＡＲ． ＷＡＲ ＮＥＶＥＲ ＣＨＡＮＧＥＳ． ＢＵＴ ＭＥＮ ＤＯ． ⊱ ────────────────────────────────

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┌ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ┐

└ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ┘
☢ ☢ ☢ ☢ ☢ ☢ ☢ ☢ ☢
┌ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ┐
YOU FIND AN OLD MINICASETTE AT THE
BOTTOM OF THE DRAWER. IT'S FRAGILE IN
YOUR PALM, AND OBVIOUSLY DECREIPT. A
FADED PIECE OF TAPE STUCK ONTO ITS SU
RFACE SPELLS YOUR NAME. YOU CLICK PLAY.
└ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ┘

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STEP INTO THE WASTE.
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⊱ ──

↘xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx↙
"S̴̡̺͇͒̔͝T̴̡͇͔̐̀͝A̴̢̫͉̒͌͘T̸̘̠̼̔͆̐Ì̵͉̪͆͝C̴̢͖̝̒͑͠.̵̡̦͚͛͑͊.̴̢̞͛̈́͊.̸͉̠̦͛́ S̸̝̝̼͌̈́͌Ț̴̞͑̓͠A̴͔͉͍̒͘͠T̵̙̫͙̓̈́̚I̴̝͕̠̓̾̽C̵͚͍̿͆́͜.̴̺̺̦̔͛͠.̴͉͇͒͑.̵̻̙͓͐͆̒ U̵̻̠̘͌̓̒N̸͇̻͎̐͝I̸͉̼͔͋̓̓N̸̡͔͊͆̕Ț̵͖͙̔̓͘E̴͎̦̻̓̿͘L̵̝͓̫͘͠L̴͖̙͓͐͐̒I̸̙̫̪͊͑͝G̸̢̠͕̐̓͝I̵̼̠̝͑͑͝B̸̺͇̺̔͆́L̴̢̪͉̿͋͝E̸̢̪̿͐͘.̸̢̘̓͋͝.̸̦̟͆̐͜͝.̵͕̻͌̈́͝... know about what's out there -
the factions you'll meet, the people, the landscape, i logged into this h
ere terminal. the files shou... U̵̻̠̘͌̓̒N̸͇̻͎̐͝I̸͉̼͔͋̓̓N̸̡͔͊͆̕Ț̵͖͙̔̓͘E̴͎̦̻̓̿͘L̵̝͓̫͘͠L̴͖̙͓͐͐̒I̸̙̫̪͊͑͝G̸̢̠͕̐̓͝I̵̼̠̝͑͑͝B̸̺͇̺̔͆́L̴̢̪͉̿͋͝E̸̢̪̿͐͘.̸̢̘̓͋͝.̸̦̟͆̐͜͝.̵͕̻͌̈́͝... survive the wastel
and, remember this. it is here you were born. it is here you will die. be
cause in the wasteland, no one ever escapes..."
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[vaermina]

ＶＡＬＥＮＴＩＮＡ ＫＡＬＡＪＩＡＮxxx
I.xcis femalex II.x26 years oldx III. a wastelander


indenti can't remember the last time the sky was blue.
indentall her life, it felt like the sky has remained the same shade of dreary gray. and the pale yet scorching presence of the sun did little to help the wasteland's prosaic appearance. every morning she woke up greeted by the same sight; a massive, flat expanse of wasteland dotted with the occasional dead tree or toppled boulder. there was a stream located a few yards from their house with an old and rotting bridge arched precariously over its waters but even then, she could hardly call it a lovely sight when the water has long since developed a rancid hue. sure, the neighborhood of laurel oaks had probably been a winsome sight back in the day. tall emerald hedges bordering pristine lawns, houses painted the most delicate of blues, quaint picket fences, sable-colored roads with freshly paved asphalt. god, even the mere description of that is hard to picture when you look at the settlement now. dead lawns with withered plants, decrepit houses decaying with age, destroyed fences, roads with potholes and cracks so large it'd be nothing short of a hazard to drive on in pre-war times. in the grand scheme of things, valentina supposed it could be worse. she and her cousin, julian, could be cooped up in some wooden shack near a ghoul-infested factory or something.
indentlaurel oaks is not the most endearing of settlements but one cannot be picky out in the wasteland when it comes to shelter. they were lucky to even live in the house that they do, no matter how much it's rotting at the seams. it's been around since the nukes hit, so the fact it's even standing is a miracle in of itself. sure, they've been forced to make some... repairs to it in terms of fixing leaks in the roof, chasing vermin out from underneath the porch, replace broken hinges and quite literally nail wooden planks to the floors and walls whenever a hole would appear due to its rotting frame but it could be a lot worse. the mattress she sleeps on is stained and riddled with open tears that poke her back with springs as she sleeps but it could be a lot worse. honestly, that's just what valentina keeps telling herself.
indenteverything could be a lot worse... right?
indentdead grass crunched underneath her boots as she rounded the corner of the house. the house she and julian lived in sat as the first residence of the settlement, nestled quaintly next to a pile of fallen trees and the wooden wall that had been haphazardly constructed around the neighborhood's perimeter. it's neither tall nor formidable but it keeps out most predators and feral ghouls, some of the most notorious scourges of the waste. valentina gladly welcomes any sort of normalcy to the feverish lifestyle she and julian are forced to live in, anyway. and after their parents died several years ago, nothing has really felt the same. one moment a person you love is there and the next... well, they're not. what else does one expect, living out here in the irradiated countryside? you can lose someone in the blink of an eye. that's just how it is. you have to be sturdy, strong-willed, fervent to survive out here. you have to be willing to get your hands bloody and bruised to survive. that's exactly why valentina has taken up the art of hunting. local markets will pay a pretty cap for venison. vendors won't hesitate to throw in a few extra caps if you bring them some sort of mutated creature, too. a hare with multiple heads? a stag with four horns? a fox with three tails? if taxidermists aren't vehemently searching for bonny oddities, a curious customer will pay and that's enough to earn the interest of merchants to invest in such stock. the local wildlife is abundant enough that valentina can continue to pursue a suitable living with it. well, earn enough caps to help keep food on the table but isn't that just the primary goal of every wastelander? she knew that if she were ever to kill some sort of valuable predator like a sharpclaw or griffin that she and julian would be swimming in caps for days but it's easier said than done. unlike hunting a simple deer or wild pig, those predators are intelligent enough to cleverly beat a hunter at their own game. hell, it's probably why their hides and body parts sell so first-class in the market. her father had paid nearly twenty caps just to get her a necklace with the talon of a sharpclaw hanging from its string when she was younger. hauling the corpse of one of those beasts to the market to sell? she couldn't imagine it.
indentmars was eating from a bucket near the cracked pathway that led to the languished doorway of their home. the stallion's red coat gleamed russet in the noon rays. she approached the horse, carefully running her hand along his burly flank to alert him of her presence. "it's about that time again, boy." she told him. another market run. this morning, she had successfully taken down a doe that had been grazing about a mile or so away from laurel oaks. she was a scrawny creature, not much meat on her bones; no doubt an outcome of having to survive winter in an already perilous wasteland. sometimes, it's better to leave the spindly kills alone but they couldn't afford that. they need all the caps they can get, especially after they blew a good portion of their fund trying to replace one of the shattered window panes in the living room. standing in the front yard with mars gave her a good view of the rest of the houses in laurel oaks as well. they were all built similarly, sweltering and creaking in the cool midday heat. some were in better condition than others. some were missing parts of their roof, others bearing broken windows. once impeccable paint jobs have become pale and chipped with time, lawns practically overflowing with weeds. much like how she and julian have dedicated their front lawn as mars' pen, others have also done the same with their livestock. the scrawny poles of street lights stood neglected along the sidewalks, and the rotten corpses of cars that have not been used for centuries sit neglected on the roads. rust has long since become a permanent resident on most objects found throughout the neighborhood. one might look upon this settlement and think it's a ghost town, but the sound of families bustling inside their homes as well as tending to the small gardens and livestock outside their houses tell a different story. like most settlers, valentina and julian share a sense of community with those that they live next to. many of them had stopped by their house to pay their respects after the death of their parents several years ago. they've grown up with some of the wastelanders here in laurel oaks. sometimes, they'd even get invited to birthday parties or neighborhood cookouts that consist of some family roasting a bunch of pigs over a spit as an excuse to get people together. still, it's nice to know you're not totally alone out here in the wasteland and that you can trust a few people outside of your own family. valentina supposed that when you're all struggling to survive in the same hell, you have to stick together.
indentvalentina had saddled mars up earlier today when she went out into the waste to track the doe. the creature was draped across the horse's hindquarters, its rugged pelt covered in sand and dead leaves. a small but evidently noticeable wound had been made in its throat from one of valentina's arrows. she reached up to brush through its coat. it'll be hard to sell this thing if it looks grimy. hell, it might be hard to get someone to purchase it in general but she could only hope there was some sort of vendor in the market today interested in restocking their venison supply. not to mention, they need to restock on some supplies for the house, in general. she was already making a mental list in her head of what they need to purchase with, hopefully, the caps they get from this kill. god, she's always doing this. constantly thinking. after the death of her parents, she felt like life had hit her like a freight train. granted, she's always been semi-aware of the hardships she would have to face as a wastelander but now, with her and julian having to find any viable way possible to support themselves? it's hard. she and julian are lucky they have a roof over their heads, however unstable it may be. she's not going to deny the fact her cousin has his moments of pestering the hell out of her, but honestly, there's nobody else in this world she'd rather live with than he. they grew up together due to how close their parents were. if anything, she saw julian as more of a younger brother than a cousin due to this. and when their parents died, it became even more abundantly clear that they only have each other to depend on. nobody would have their backs more than the other does. perhaps in a few years, they might branch out to start their own lives separate from one another but for now, valentina is more than content with their current situation. besides, it's more practical to live with someone else as a wastelander; for not only your own protection but just for survival, in of itself. and if there's one thing that valentina is concerned with, it's their survival.
indentthe woman turned to face the house. "julian!" she called her cousin's name loudly. "are you gonna come with me to the market? i'm heading out now to try and make good time so i'll be back before the sun sets. also, i wanna try and sell this doe today while she's fresh aka so we can get a good amount of caps out of her before we're eating mudpies for dinner."
indentvalentina's announcement was enough to draw the interest of her sandcat, gideon. the small creature lay curled on a brick by the steps of the porch, large ears swiveling forward when valentina began to speak. he rose groggily to his hindfeet, nose twitching drowsily before he hopped off the brick, sprinting in her direction. she bent down to pick him up before placing him in one of mars' saddlebags. a squeak escaped the sandcat before he eyed her irritably. every wastelander knows that bringing your sandcat along on your travels is essential due to their unique ability to detect dangerous weather before it comes, but gideon has a habit of attempting to run off whenever they're out in the wasteland. keeping him in the saddlebag is a good alternative to buying some sort of small cage. after making sure he was secure in the bag and that the only part of his body poking out is his furry head, valentina retrieved her weapons from the broken patio table near the porch. first, she shouldered her bow and quiver before doing the same with her shotgun. around her waist is a bandolier, a pocketed belt for stashing shotgun shells. there is no way valentina was going to leave the walls of laurel oaks unarmed. there's always the chance of running into feral ghouls, predators, bandits or even conclave soldiers along the roads. surprisingly enough, the most dangerous out of said group is the latter. conclave soldiers are as unpredictable as they are vile. in fact, valentina is almost positive that most soldiers who enlist simply do so in order to try and feel powerful in some way, feel as if they're somehow above the law and thus, ordinary citizens. she supposed if you're donning something as protective as power armor, that sort of power trip comes easy. nevertheless, she refused to leave the settlement without some sort of protection. if she did, it would most certainly be a death wish.

[vaell]

xxxxxxxＪＡＺＭ Í Ｎ ＳＥＣＯ.

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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxinr tactical intel. officer / covert ops. taskforce. | conclave military. | tagged: roland.
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indent"and fort sancus II? i do hope it's been welcoming, officer."
indentbefore her was the flickering blue image of a man seated at his desk, the backdrop that of an office in the af-981 hq back in the capital. his suit was dark, save for the light inr patch on his sleeve accompanied by several over recognitions of his ranking as assistant secretary of defense for the inr. jazmín allowed herself to lean back in her own chair. her granted workspace had been a small but practical room branching off from one of the various hallways encompassing the officer division within the base. on her desk lay several thin folders, mostly consisting of monthly reports of the collective data of activity reported within the region. this sort of background knowledge was crucial for the members of the newly established taskforce to come to be familiar with, as it all pertained to previous rebel attacks. in the center of all her paperwork, though, was her holoprojector, from which the image was being produced. the room was otherwise hardly inhabited, save for her armor neatly set upon a small cabinet to her side, as well as her sand-cat, soraya, contently curled up in a ball on a small decorative bench at the back of the office. her superior, director rhys - the man she was currently in a live session with - had been quick to assess the benefits of the inr gaining a foothold in this specific organization. hence why she had been transferred to fort sancus ii only yesterday, in light of her promotion. the taskforce operated out of this base in particular as it served to be a location optimal in case of suspected rebel activity anywhere out in the waste. it wasn't the commonwealth, but it was nothing short of a fully capable conclave base, gunner droids constantly a presence, both serving as soldiers and as guards.
indentshe offered the director a smile. "yes, sir. and very accommodating." she leafed through the folder before her, this one in particular containing data from the past month, the pages rich of suspected and confirmed rebellion cases. one in particular caught her eye once more. fort snow. destroyed on the outskirts of the badlands, a complete wreckage brought on by the lawless fiends, self-proclaimed rebels as they were. her eyes shifted back up to the hologram. "but i must admit, i've no lack of reading to do when it comes to documents." she snapped the folder shut, "if i weren't so used to it, they'd be piling up high by the end of this week."
indenta light chuckle. "well, i'm glad to hear things have been going smoothly. i'd like to congratulate you one last time, jazmín. intelligence being represented in such a caliber of operations is crucial in highlighting the interconnectedness the military and the bureau must maintain if-"
indentsuddenly, his voice distorted, the hologram following suit and beginning to flicker. the audio begun going in and out. "-and-" she narrowed her eyes at the now-frozen holograph before her. "dammit. are you seri-" the image flickered out completely and gave way to an audio transmission. an overriding transception. "ATTENTION. THERE HAS BEEN A BREACH IN BASE: THEMUS. POTENTIAL OF STOLEN INFORMATION. CONTACTED PERSONS SHOULD DIRECT THEIR FOCUS ONTO THE INVESTIGATION EFFECTIVE NOW. THEMUS IS LOCATED APPROXIM...." the alert droned on, but jazmín was no longer listening. the words were drowned out by her sudden rush of adrenaline. she practically shot up from where she had been seated, wrestling herself out of the blazer she had been wearing and allowing it to be strewn somewhere across the floor. she wasn't the only one caught off guard, either. soraya had also jolted up, ears flattened down in both surprise and irritation at the harsh sound of the voice, slightly more amplified than her conversing with director rhys had been. jazmín continued to nearly fling herself toward her armor, a string of cusses escaping her mouth as she reached for the set's breastplate. the right side of the plate was decorated with several small medallions as well as two distinct symbols indicating both her position within the inr and her ranking as an officer. she couldn't think of a time where she could be more unprepared for some trek into the waste than she was now. her hands fumbled in her haste, attempting to secure the piece to her chest as quickly as she could. in the background, the alarm was now repeating itself, as if on a permanent loop to torture her. it was monotone, the voice ringing through metallic. not so pleasant on the ears, really. she forcefully latched one shoulder pauldron on at a time with a click, conscious of her breath having hitched, and moved onto sliding both vambrances onto her forearms. easy. she then continued onto securing both her thigh and shin guards, struggling to alleviate the panic her body had been sent into. the process probably took a moment longer than it should've, but finally, when she was satisfied, she grabbed her helmet and tucked it into the crook of her arm. it sported a t-shaped visor and was equipped with a comlink as well as a tactical heads-up display, a view screen projection functioning as a form of visual aid, and an antenna attached to a rangefinder to enhance imagery. like the rest of her set of armor, it was coated with blue, but also had grey and white markings just above the visor, designed as to have semblance to the snow owl. the creatures can blind human victims with their eyes alone, hence the placement on the front of her helmet.
indenta button on her holoprojector blinked green. once. twice. jazmín now had her back to the device, hurriedly zipping up the sides of her boots with the use of a single hand.
indent"officer seco. you haven't confirmed you've received the transmission. please advise. over."
indentinterrupting the alarm was a distinctly different voice. an overseer of the taskforce. at this point she was shocked that a droid wasn't at her door offering to escort her down to the loading bay. she turned around, reaching across her chair and desk to hold down a button. "confirming now. i had a small delay. over."
indenta brief pause. "copied. this is an urgent situation. you'll be debriefed when on route. channel 17-a is open for use, limited to yourself and officer yáñez. over."
indent"affirmative." she released her finger from the button, snatching her gun holster equipped with both her pistols with her free hand. about ready to accidentally ditch soraya, jazmín paused, turning on her heel to scan the room. "soraya?" she called, expecting to see her still atop the bench, perhaps flustered but still there nonetheless. she really didn't have time for this. but still, she forced herself to look upon the only possible place a sand-cat could be hiding in here - beneath her desk. she ducked her head under, unsurprisingly met with the retreated soraya, situated in the corner between the wall and the desks foundations. "here, girl," she coaxed, trying to best suppress the impatience beginning to form in her voice. in return she recieved a tentative step forward and a raising of the ears from her sand-cat. she stuck her arm within the space, gesturing with her hand. "come on." with the invitation out in front of her, it didn't take long for soraya to accept, nimbly making her way up jazmín's arm and to her shoulder pauldron. "great, great. good. okay." she maneuvered toward the door, stepping past the blazer she had thrown on the ground. as she exited, the door swung shut, automatically locking itself - it was the unlocking that required fingerprint recognition.
indentthe atmosphere she was met with outside of her office was as though entering a different dimension. as rushed as she was, the hallway connecting to the main interior of the base lacked any sort of frenzy. it made her quickened pace seem ridiculous, but she was thankful for the lack of eyes, especially now as she was attempting to buckle the holster around her waist with a single hand. the lack of general action being taken from those within the fort stemmed from the fact that this incursion was to be firstly handled by their newly established taskforce. which meant the knowledge of the break-in was not yet widespread, and likely wouldn't be until she and roland arrived at the scene and assessed what action would need to be taken. local law enforcement may be informed, sure - but droves of soldiers were not being deployed out there just yet.
indentemerging from the corridor into the starkly more spacious area that was the main facility grounds, jazmín strode past various other soldiers, officers, gunners and even a few recruiters. soraya peered at them in curiosity as they made their way past. at this point, her breathing had levelled out, but her nerves were still on fire. fortunately, though, her trip to the loading bay was not a long one to make. her office had an advantage in terms of layout - and she could presume that was purposeful. once she reached the wide entrance of the bay, she continued to descend down the entrance ramp, which gave way to a restraining wall that surrounded a shallow, but large pit. inside was stationed a line of armored cars, hardy and durable vehicles able to provide the necessary protection out in the waste, sporting a two-seat design, the latter half of the vehicle dedicated to armament or supplies. bright, fluorescent lights cast down upon the space, illuminating not only the vehicles but the walls, too. they were lined with various power cell charger sockets where parked craft could obtain fuel. she shifted her helmet into one hand, using the other to tie back her currently unbound hair as she approached the droid at the end of the ramp. "i don't need your help," she assured the gunner, briskly passing by after plucking the keys from its hands. "or assistance, or whatever the hell you want to call it." she slid her helmet on.
indentit was when she looked down the array of armored units in which she realized she had still yet to see roland. admittedly, she should have joined the designated communication channel much earlier. did she have a single clue of where he happened to be right now? no. what she had to do was hope he had already joined the channel. "channel 17-a." a small beep sounded from the comlink embedded in her helmet, registering to acknowledge her words, and then a second following the network code of 844-937.
indent"CONNECTING....."
indent".......SUCCESS. CONNECTED TO CHANNEL 17-A."
indent"good afternoon, officer roland yáñez. jazmín seco reporting in-" she snorted at her own attempt at a serious tone. the funnier part was knowing that he probably wouldn't have thought her kidding with that. maybe. "forget it. i'm at the loading bay. and you? a status update would be nice." she neared the designated armored vehicle, as indicated by the 304 on the keys and the corresponding emblem on the side of the hood. rounding about on it, she unlocked it and pulled the hatch on the side-door made up of the second half of the vehicle. she peered inside before stepping up to take a closer look. her eyes scanned the space, taking a quick account of the provisions they had in terms of both ammunition, spare weaponry and sustenance, too. no details had been offered as to the projected time that this particular incident may take, but judging by the resources held within the armored car, she could infer that it was quite possible that it could end up being a lengthy mission. upon further inspection, she noticed other precautionary measures taken, including another set of holoprojectors. the vehicle itself had one embedded in its frontal system, but these had the ability to be hand-held. she moved toward the small transportable vault of weaponry, pushing the handle in and turning it to reveal a set of pistols, a sniper rifle and a set of automatic guns. they were standard issue conclave weaponry in terms of design, but made for excellent back-up. satisfied, she closed the door.
indent"looks like the armored unit is well provisioned. weaponry, holoprojectors- and, my god. roland," she stifled a laugh, looking across the space to spot two compacted modular sleep systems - essentially, military grade sleeping bags. "there's two sleep systems in here." was this about to qualify as a form of flirting..through coms? "it's not too late to pray that there's no one else listening in here, by the way. or not. anyway, it's not like i didn't wake up beside you this morning, right?" she stepped down from the armored car, shutting the hatch securely behind her, unable to help the laughter that escaped her lips. being private about their own personal lives was something that jazmín certainly was not heeding to right now - but then again, they were technically alone. what made it funnier was that it wasn't hard to imagine roland on the other end.
indentshe came around to the front of the vehicle, reaching to her shoulder to lift soraya from her pauldron. her claws were hooked beneath the metal, though, so when she tried to pull her away, the sand-cat only tightened its grip - and well, she couldn't trust the creature not to distract her should she drive. "great. okay, so sorry to break the intimate mood we've established here, but you're driving. soraya's being a damn pest." she scowled at the sand-cat beneath her helmet, whom was latched onto her shoulder for better or for worse, apparently. she head around to the passenger side of the vehicle, opened the door and slid in, setting the keys atop the middle console. soraya clambered around the backside of her neck, perching herself atop her left shoulder now. jazmín eyed the middle dashboard - it contained their holoprojector, and a myriad of different buttons surrounded the device; a briefing regarding coordinates, routing, targets and situation would be awaiting them once the vehicle and the device was turned on.

[vaell]

xxxＥＤＷＩＮ ＡＬＢＲＥＣＨＴ.

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xxxxxxxxxxxxentertainer / stage name 'floyd'. | the rebellion. aka 'vuledo'. | tagged: constance.
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indent"and now, give it up for renowned violinist accompanied by an up-and-coming pianist, here to perform to you a sensational instrumental of our republic's very own national anthem to set the mood --- floyd and zurich!"
indenttucked between his jaw and collarbone comfortably rested a violin. it was a slightly weathered instrument, slowly rotting away as all things seemed to in this life, but it was arguably well maintained - and just enough to distract you from the scratches which inevitably formed as a result of wear, the sort that could only come from a constant usage of the chordophone. grooves, small enough to go unnoticed from afar, broke the pristine surface between the soundboard and the fingerboard, yet unmarred was the smooth surface of the fingerboard sitting beneath the instruments strings. however, the black paint has long been chipping at the rims. the four strings running down said fingerboard were probably the most well kept of all. he couldn't run the risk of the violin refusing to stay in tune, let alone leave it to the point where the sounds emitted came out strange; the very quality of their performances was something that he and constance ultimately needed to uphold in order for an audience to even bother entertaining them. hence why he was so quick to replace the strings as needed. plus, it wasn't so hard to get his hands on them, either, because after all, most strings out in the waste tended to be made out of the guts of various different creatures. yeah, believe it or not, he wasn't living in any new hollywood. now, to the top of the violin, which was attached to the very top of the neck, was a stylish scroll. though typically carved in a spiral shape, his own was intricately designed to showcase the skull-like face that wendigos bear. it garnered a question every now and then, but he always shrugged; it was simply a decorative choice, there was nothing deep about it.
indentbefore him was a crowd filled of conclave soldiers, lounging about the space - and to be quite frank, probably hardly giving two damns about the performance itself. they were all just there to drink and have a good time with their colleagues before you know, causing insurmountable pain to the people of the waste. nothing new. it was all just background noise to them. and that was fine, really. maybe things would be a lot different if constance and himself were in new california making a name for themselves, but even that he doubted. the appreciation of art and music was something dwindling, it was more so used as a means to gain some fame one way or another, and not enjoyed for its true purpose. to him, music was personal. very much it could be enjoyed universally, but the sound of notes being drawn out to form the most wonder-filling music was one that called to him in more ways than one. each time he played could he remember his parents. it was like slowly unravelling memories one by one, ones that you thought were insignificant at the time, but later proved otherwise. but the reality of the situation was that he was playing his music for the conclave. he was going to play the damned national anthem, for crying out loud. there was never a time that he didn't feel repulsed by the very action of carefully drawing up the bow up to the strings of the violin while his other hand rested upon the fingerboard. the anthem was enough to get all these soldiers patriotic and whatnot, yes, but where he pressed down a string onto its surface, changing the pitch of the instrument, he wished he didn't need to produce these sounds. it was a constant reminder of the injustice in this world, brought fourth through the very thing he loved. music. it all came back to that.
indentbringing the bow hair to come in contact with the strings, he moved methodically, slowly drawing the bow across them in an arco direction. he stood off to the opposite side of the piano across the relatively small stage, the other instrument currently being played by one of his fellow crew members. all things considered, the rendition between the violin and a piano was undeniably well executed for such a terror-inspiring song. speaking of, it was not the pressure of performance that left his mind running amuck with thoughts, but rather why they were even out here. the arda outpost was one with a smaller capacity of soldiers, situated in the outskirts of the dixon wasteland, close to the commonwealth border and not far from the themis base. themis was the very base in which a band of rebels would soon require escape from. hence why he and constance weren't particularly here to actually obtain any sort of specific information, making for a rather dull affair. they only participated in this particular show in order to stay on a sort a schedule, avoiding the risk of looking suspicious. unfortunately that also meant that they were running on a very tight schedule. but it was worth it. instead of slipping around some rowdy soldiers themselves, their own colleagues within the rebellion were attempting a major gain from the conclave. from what intel he had received, which was actually rather limited to those outside of the actual operation, the potential information held within that base could deal a major blow to the conclave should it be stolen. and that's exactly what was going to be set in motion not long from now. so then, best case scenario, alongside constance and his crew, would they meet their band of rebels and get the hell out of the dixon wasteland. preferably alive, by the way. he continued sliding the bow across the strings, coming near to an end of this truly harmonious duo.
indentwith a final bend of his arm, the last note rung out, softly fading alongside the last key of the piano. he let out a breath, watching as the crowd took a moment before folding into a string of applauses, bumping the person next to them as though the anthem had somehow evoked within them a total sense of camaraderie through their horrible patriotism in this country and belief of their rightful doings. he drew down his violin. this was exactly why he had trouble enjoying performances. appealing to the conclave was nothing short of disturbing. and it was hard to stand there, force a light smile upon the masses all the while fuelling the very fire they were trying to put out. it was only right that he came to a flourish in the middle of the stage as quickly as he possibly could, bowing for a split second if not to get away from the cheers and laughter of the soldiers, then to keep himself from entertaining thoughts of somehow destroying this entire fort inside out.
indenthis fellow entertainer, karelsa, otherwise known as zurich on stage, was a younger girl, maybe only fourteen. she followed in suit, flashing him a small, proud small. he returned it. the lights above them dimmed as they retreated backstage, the announcer quick to herald in the next form of entertainment. he slipped around the corner of the stage, pushing the door to allow for karelsa to head in, and then himself. with a sigh, edwin shifted his grip of the violin down to its neck. "guess we're finished here," he glanced around the empty dressing room. "and i guess that everyone else decided they couldn't wait."
indent"yeah..being last performance and getting ditched? more likely than you think."
indent"you don't say?" he chuckled, heading towards the empty case propped up against the wall. "guess we better get out there. tight schedule and all." she nodded in return, picking up her scattered belongings sitting atop a vanity. the functionality of a stage within a base, you may ask? well come on, everyone needs a little entertainment every now and then. and this was genuinely some makeshift dressing room. it held a small exit, a few vanities paired with mirrors, and likely resembled the rest of the building in terms of design. and yes, it was a rather small space, as with the stage, offset from the room, like a design later thought of and thrown in last minute. it wasn't like it was necessary for a military outpost to even harbor such a thing, after all, so it made sense. perhaps the space in which the soldiers enjoyed their music also served as a dining hall. edwin gently brought down the instrument into its case, tucking the bow away and zipping it up. when he rose, he took a glance at the mirror. he donned a simple black suit, well-fitted and probably one of his go-to outfits when it came to performances. not ideal for some get-away but nonetheless it would help in terms of looking the part. behind him, karelsa held a small bag in her hands, likely holding some sheets of musics she had been studying as well as a small canister of polish for the piano. he slung the violin case across his shoulder, turning around to see the girl. "good job out there, by the way. you're really tuning into those chords. practice pays off."
indent"thanks. i guess it really does."
indentand with that, the two headed out, greeted by two conclave guards just outside the door. he gave them a small nod - received nothing in return, by the way, those stoic bastards - and headed toward their caravan, which was actually a fair walk away. he could spot danny, another member of their crew, at the front of the caravan, assumedly the one who would be navigating their route to the nearest inhabited area in close proximity to the themus base. now that was alarming, all things considered of the eccentric man. ah well, they didn't have time to debate the matter. he did get them here from the badlands, after all. but still, it wasn't like that had been some sort of high stakes mission. once he got close enough - to the point where his increased pace wouldn't be conspicuous - he threw a wave toward danny and began rushing toward the side of the caravan to bang against the door until someone opened up from within. "hey, suckers! thinking of leaving us behind, or what!? please don't tell me you guys went to some settlement and somehow caused chaos in that small window of time. kidding, we're all responsible individuals, right? anyway, move it!" he hopped inside, violin case strung across his back, manoeuvring past those near the door and sliding in to seat himself next to his closest friend and equally - or even more talented - performer. "my god, constance. you really ditched me too. come on, that's not even fair. you literally were just on stage before me. what the hell!" he laughed. karelsa followed him up and in and joined the rest of the crew. the space wasn't all that luxurious, considering their band was made of up various different faces. in fact it felt cramped at the best of times. "and by the way, before anyone asks, yes we did perform the national anthem." this elicited a few bouts of laughter from those around him. those who made up their crew were individuals within the rebellion whom possessed a knack for performing, naturally inclined to join their humble group, while others had been rescued from grave circumstances by constance herself, ultimately deciding to join them as well. they were all like a small family, the lot of them. "i know, i know. too bad we didn't butcher it. talent cant be subdued even by the conclave, huh, karelsa?" he bumped the girls shoulder, who in turn gave a sheepish smile.
indentthe young girl, with her clutched pouch of belongings in her lap, then glanced around, piping in during their brief moment of silence. "so..we're heading off? somewhere near arcadia, if not at, i presume? camping out until contact is made..? that sounds sketchy, doesn't it?"
indenthe shrugged. "it is what it is. but yeah, basically. anyway, like i said, we're ready if you all are. uh, kind of, at least. as ready as we can be, all things considered? hope danny's ready, too. speaking of which, is it too late to suggest that it may be safer for anyone other than him to actually get us to the rendezvous point? i swear the man's gonna see some weird cult-y monument and stop and stare at it. 'for the art', y'know."