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Fallout: The Big Easy

Pat

Three Thousand Club


The public announcement system heralded the close of the voluntary curfew with the selection of a classic beloved song from it's limited instrumental jazz repertoire. Artificial sunlight simulators strategically positioned throughout the atrium and hallways of the residential quarters began to hum and warm up the sterile metal confines of the reawakening heart of Vault 51 as dwellers went through their morning routines. "Today is October 16th, 2277, in the city of New Orleans," a baritone voice declared through the speakers. "today is Mr. Summer's 91st birthday to be celebrated in the diner, today is the 2nd happy anniversary of Mrs. Strangeworth's marriage, tonight a little league baseball game will be held in the atrium, the prize being sugar ration coupons to the families of the winning team. Internal radiation levels are zero."

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William Mackenzie opens the door of his apartment only to find two of the friendlier members of vault security, Officer Charles Decker and Officer Liam Munson, waiting patiently outside, their riot batons held casually in their hands. "The Overseer has a matter to discuss with you," Charles revealed, drawing curious stares from lingering passerby.

"Says it's important vault business, we're to escort you to his office immediately." Liam spoke up.

Boethiah Boethiah , bigironblazer420 bigironblazer420 , mausedpotatos mausedpotatos , ForTheRepublicEureka ForTheRepublicEureka , General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch , Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon , Insidi Insidi , Locklaklazarii Locklaklazarii , rebirth rebirth , RedRover RedRover .
 
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Father Lee found his way to the chapel as he did every morning and began to clean and prepare for this morning's sermons. With some minutes to spare, he gently took out his copy of the Vulgate and began to read the latin verses. Soon, followers began to trickle in, and Father Lee greeted them, soon starting today's lesson.

"...thus, 'blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the world' does not mean that God desires you be weak and humble. Nay, God desires his followers to be strong, but exhibit self-restraint and good judgement. To sharpen and hone your sword, but to know when to draw it instead of constantly using it bully the helpless. To be meek is not to be weak. Rather, it means to be ready and strong, but wise and patient as well for the sword is not always needed nor is it always the best solution to a problem. And that is it for today folks. I hope you will remember this lesson around this time of the year. To be meek, strong and ready to fight, but to show great judgement on when to fight. Amen."

"Amen"

"Those who desire to learn more from the scriptures in its... purer and original form are welcome to stay for our bible study that will begin in a few minutes."

Many attendees got up and left to work or deal with other matters. But a familiar select group of people remained behind. In all 16, people were still there. While it was not every member, Father Lee knew that some of the members did not always have the luxury of taking the time off for their bible study sessions due to the nature of their positions. Thus, Father Lee began the meeting "Ave Eve!"

"AVE!"

"We have been preparing for the upcoming days for many long months and years, my children. I thank you for your meekness as the ability to tolerate the intoletable is a measure of one's strength. Faber est suae quisque fortunae.

As we have discussed, we will begin by civil discourse with the Overseer. Following that, peaceful protest will occur in the form of a general strike at the gate. Depending on the events that then develop, we shall then do what we must to obey and follow the will of God. Ad gloriam Dei! Until then, pray, rest, eat, and speak to your loved ones for the more who join us, the better. Ad victoriam!"

"Ave Eve!"

With that, the bible study was over and the members of the Eves left the chapel with two goals in mind, preparing for reclaimation day, and recruiting more people into the cause. Afterall, the meek shall inheirt the earth and the Eves had been preparing patiently for the day that the doors would open.
 

William Mackenzie opens the door of his apartment only to find two of the friendlier members of vault security, Officer Charles Decker and Officer Liam Munson, waiting patiently outside, their riot batons held casually in their hands. "The Overseer has a matter to discuss with you," Charles revealed, drawing curious stares from lingering passerby.

"Says it's important vault business, we're to escort you to his office immediately." Liam spoke up.

Boethiah Boethiah , bigironblazer420 bigironblazer420 , mausedpotatos mausedpotatos , ForTheRepublicEureka ForTheRepublicEureka , General Deth Glitch General Deth Glitch , Heyitsjiwon Heyitsjiwon , Insidi Insidi , Locklaklazarii Locklaklazarii , rebirth rebirth , RedRover RedRover .

William stretched out his back and replied, "Just give me a moment, I didn't expect to be going anywhere so important this early." He moved his way back inside the apartment to grab the cup of coffee that sat at the counter steaming, he took a sip before taking it with him back to the guards. With his mug in hand he was ready to head out, "best not keep the overseer waiting any longer then."
 
Atto was already in the vault kitchen preparing the cake for Mr. Summer's 91st birthday. As he poured the ingredients into the pot, mixing and stirring the insides eventually led to batter. Opening the stove and putting the pan with the batter inside, he set it to cook.
Although he couldn't make a cake for the Strangeworths, there would always be more anniversaries.
(First rp post, please be nice I'm sensitive ;-; )
 
Creel, deep inside of the guts of the vault, was reviewing reactor reports from Johnson Smyth who was the senior technician from the previous shift. Although the reactor was old it was built to last, and was performing very well despite its age. He pulled a few levers and watcher for the levers corresponding gauges readouts. When they read as satisfactory, he dutifully noted this on the clipboard to his right. The reactor operations room was a constantly quiet place. Besides for him and a technician who were on shift, he was left mostly to his own thoughts. The humming of the reactor was low and steady. Music was not permitted to be played while one was on shift in the reactor room, as it might distract the operators. Reading was similarly prohibited. The technician, who was named James, and Creel had already told one another every joke that they could think of. There was no family story that was not described, or sports weekend that was not chronicled. Boredom had set in, but the excitement about exiting the vault had served to somewhat relieve that feeling. There was a world out there to see. Perhaps the Old World had survived in some form, and a fledgling government would be there to excitedly greet the vault dwellers. Remember those hard years before now, those strangers would say jovially, it sure is swell that we have some new friends to talk to about those days - Life sure is good on the surface nowadays. Creel continued to day dream and halfheartedly glance up at the control panel in front of him every ten minutes. His shift would not be over for at least another hour. He could feel himself nodding off slightly. Creel reached for his coffee mug, only to realize that it was empty and contained only a few dregs. He trudged off to refill his mug at the coffee machine and find the beta-particle readouts from the last week of operations.
 
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It was a short walk to the Overseer's office. Officer Charles Decker and Officer Liam Munson struck up idle conversation with the security guard on duty in the command center while William Mackenzie approached the reception desk. Secretary Evan Anderson, voice of the public announcement system, visibly brightened at the sight of the man as he set aside his reports to address him. "A more respectable family patriarch one could not hope to find in Vault 51, he beamed, "such a shame you and your kin take such an interest in the done and dusted of the old world though," he immediately thoughtlessly amended before remembering himself. "Sincerest apologies, Mr. Mackenzie. I forgot you have business to attend to. The Overseer is waiting inside and I have kept you both waiting."

Two of his fingers seemingly moved of their own accord to page the Overseer through pressing the intercom console just below the plastiwood lip of the polished counter surface. "Are you preoccupied Mr. Overseer?" he tentatively spoke into the microphone, "dweller 998-055-30-563" he slowly recited from a slip of paper he held out in front of his eyes that displayed William Mackenzie's unique vault identification digit code, "is here to meet with you now, as you've previously requested."

A burst of unintelligible garbled static was the only reply after a few seconds pause. "Mr. Overseer? Are you there sir? The connection is breaking up and I can't hear you," he spoke as it continued filling the lulls between his concerned inquiries.

Without warning the door remotely unlocked. "Machine appears to be on the fritz again - for the third time this year, in fact," he confided in William Mckenzie, his fingers resignedly falling from the button. "Head on in, it looks like he's ready."

Upon entering the room, William Mckenzie is amicably received by the ancient Foster Davis, Overseer of Vault 51. Standing up from his chair, he beckoned his guest to come forward and shake his hand before he sat back down again. "I'm sure you've had enough of meaningless pleasantries today, 998-055-30-563, so we can skip the formalities. I am going to ask you a question, dweller, and I expect an answer. Tell me, young man, what is your definition of sustainability?"

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James Lee saw Dominic Taylor enter the chapel shortly after his congregation left the room. The imaginative young man was commonly known for suffering from a troubling case of vault depressive syndrome, but had very recently become a household name for his stunning art pieces that brightened up the otherwise maddeningly drab vault. "Father Lee?" He shyly approached the altar, eyes sunken from an apparent absence of sleep, "I am lost, and know of nowhere else to turn."

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As Atto Gulfman busied himself preparing the birthday cake, the diner began to slowly fill with a small group of guests that volunteered to prepare the public space for the upcoming festivities. As they busied themselves, he couldn't help but overhear bits and pieces of the conversation of two matronly women closest to the kitchen window. "The Overseer turns away his petitioners without exception, you of all people should know that!"

"Mr. Summers isn't just some petitioner. Why, once when I was cleaning his apartment, I got a look at his correspondence, and it seems there isn't a week that goes by without him receiving at least one letter from the man himself with some cryptic set of instructions. I couldn't make heads or tails of it, but why else would he waste so much time, paper, and ink with an drunken old coot like him?"

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Geoff Creel found the beta particle levels to be well within safe perimeters and virtually identical to present conditions. Years after Vault 51 closed, the maximum 3.98mkw daily output of the nuclear reactor gradually artificially decreased in a bid to increase it's longevity. Thankfully, outages and shortages were unheard of, but the policy raised the ire of maintenance crews that worked overtime and had to deal with limited lighting.
 
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The smell of smoke began to come from Patrick's pipe as his relaxed in his chair in his office. Beside him laid the Isaiah family cane, made of the finest wood Pre-War America had to offer. A sigh came from Patrick's lips as he put down his pipe to fill it up with tobacco once moreas he thought of that old world: Oh, only if that blasted Overseer would open the doors, so he could get out of this place with his followers, though he wouldn't mind beating that old man with his cane given the chance, considering everything Patrick thought that old man had done to his family. However, he sat there, waiting for the right moment to strike but until then, doing what needed to be done in the Vault
 
"Sustainability is the rate at which resources come and go and remains in balance, in essence the ability to stay afloat in a manner of speaking..." Williams thoughts trailed off for a moment, he removed his hat and ran a hand through his thick auburn hair before continuejng his sentence, "What precisely is this about sir? If I may be so foreward, are you insinuating there is a problem with the vaults sustainability?" William had always known there would be a time soon when the vault would no longer be sustainable for it's inhabitants but he never would have expected the overseer to admit to it. And why would he to William? He thought himself one of the last people in management to tell this sort of news.
 
Atto set the timer for 35 minutes, and set it down on the counter next to the stove. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands, cleaning the batter off of them in the warm water. After a minute or two, the water started to cease, but the handle had not yet been turned. Weird, Atto thought to himself. I'll let plumbing know.

He dried off his hands and opened the door to the diner outside, where the small group was decorating. He picked up some decorations, balloons, streamers and whatnot, and started to hang them up, as well as conversing with the group that had already been there. Numerous "How are you," "Good," and "Nice day today, isn't it?" were exchanged. Atto wondered what they were talking about on the subject of petitions and Mr. Summers. He'd have to ask about it at the Hole Rats meeting tonight, which took place every other day.
 
Father Lee gently said "Come Child, walk with me." James himself often took walks when he felt sullen and there was some medical proof that some exercise was good for the mind not to mention all the bright minds of antiquity were also well known to meander and walk while they pondered. As the two walked the familiar, repetitive hallways, Father Lee continued to speak "What is it that perturbs you, Dominic?" as they began to occasionally walk by the wonderful pieces that were occasionally put on display in the hallways that Dominic had made with painstaking love and labor by hand.
 
Creel looked away from the dials and up towards the wall-mounted clock. Quittin' time, as his father would have said. His shift over, Creel gave a lackluster salute to James who held up a hand in an 'okay' sign in response, taking a long sip from his mug. "I relieve you, cap'n," James jokingly quipped. "I stand relieved," replied Creel. The two had watched an old military holoflick in the recreation room two weeks prior and it had become a habit to qoute the changing of ship command as a shift came to close. "Watch gauge three, she's been a bit sticky. You just gotta tap the glass every once in a while." James wave a hand through the air dismissively. "Yeah, yep. I know, man. Enjoy your night." Creel nodded and stepped out of the control room. The passages of the engineering sector were utilitarian and not particularly meant for any aesthetic pleasure. Thick cables snaked along the wall and met at circuit panels. Pipes ran along the ceiling and walls. Creel passed the engineering smoke room, where there alone a man was permitted to enjoy a cigarette. The safety regulations were very strict about that. He wasn't required to do a decontamination lock run, as he had never come into contact with any room with particle matter containment during his shift. James, the poor sap, would have to, as he was less senior compared to Creel and thusly had to do the majority grunt work.

Creel took the elevator up to the second level and trudged to the diner. He sat down and enjoyed a moment to quiet his mind and let the jitters from all of the coffee he had drank fade away.
 
The Overseer leaned forward in his chair, eyes regarding William Mckenzie in a new fascinated light. "My predecessors thought much of the same when they denied their dwellers the world above promised to them, but they never understood the vault for what is truly is out of necessity; a closed ecological system that must stay in a perpetual state of equilibrium. They coddled their wards into complacent dependency as ordered, yes, yet in their caution they ignored concerns of longevity. Sustainability, balance, staying afloat," the Overseer waved his hand dismissively, "such words to them meant nothing more than a maximum capacity, and their blissful legacy of negligence has resulted in overpopulation. Imagine, for just a moment: if the nuclear reactor has a meltdown, if the water chip breaks, if a fire breaks out in the hydroponic farm. All it would take is a single of these theoretical disasters to irreversibly cripple us. That's why I called you here today 998-055-30-563. Passions are higher than ever before in Vault 51. Focus your efforts on keeping your men in line until tensions cool and dissenters are properly dealt with, and you will be the first to benefit once we permanently transition to an indefinitely sustainable society."

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Dominic Taylor waited until he was alone in the halls in a secluded area of the vault with James Lee before wordlessly rolling up his sleeves, gently taking the chaplain's right hand into his two own, and squeezing. In little more than an instant an excruciatingly painful electrical shock coursed through his body down to his toes, dissipating just as quickly as it came. "Are you ok Father Lee?" He worriedly called out, concern in his eyes, "I didn't intend to release such a high voltage."

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Atto Gulfman and Goeff Creel were conscripted for setting the tables with plates and cutlery together by Miss Lola Stuart, a spirited woman who had taken it upon herself to organize the party, the moment she laid her eyes on them. "Remember to do it right the first time gentlemen. Mr. Summers should be arriving shortly after the cake is done, so we have ample time left, just not nearly enough to remedy avoidable mistakes. Remember: forks on the left of the plate with the napkins, knives and spoons on the right of the plate with the glasses."

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Patrick Isaiah came across several minor clerical errors in his department, but little else at the moment. Vault 51's stores matched the rate ration coupons and work credits were being redeemed, even though the latter currency had become as of late artificially scarce in circulation as an attempt to free up more space in the hydroponics farm for the growing of premium essential crops.
 
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William brushed the stubble on the side of his chin for a moment unpacking what was just said. When he was ready he began to speak, "If you would pardon me for being so blunt, but this "indefinite sustainibility" while a higly attractive offer I find lacking in specifics. How do I know that you aren't trying to sell me on some fairytale? What are your plans, how will you create what men have been trying since the dawn of time?" William began to pace as his mind raced thinking of the answer that would pour out of the Ancient man's mouth. As he thought more and more he became nervous and more awair of the knife in his pants shifting as he walked.
 
"Of course Miss Stuart. Forks on the left with napkins; knives, spoons, and glasses on the right," Atto said, mostly for him to remember. He placed each utensil down carefully on the tables until the 30-minute timer rang.
 
Creel forced himself to offer Miss Lola a smile, internally bemoaning his ill-fortune at having been foolish enough to allow himself to be conscripted into a birthday party plan when he was just getting off of his shift. He made polite chatter for a moment and had to continue his cheery facade as he began to arrange plates and utensils according to her instructions. Lola is a kind enough neighbor, he supposed as he worked, but perhaps she could have had one of those domestic robots in storage deal with it? Regardless of his thoughts, he decided that it was better to finish as quickly as possible. He sat down and used a clean rag to begin dusting and polishing glasses. He continued to internally muse as he worked. Perhaps the intranet had yielded a new game to enjoy? I suppose that the old copy of Pipfall would have to go to make enough room on the drive. Creel set aside the last glass looking over the table. Napkins. Of course there must be napkins. Creel began to pick up white napkins from the nearby table where they had been sit, fold them neatly, and then tuck inside the silverware.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he wrapped up his allotted task and sat down to wait for the party.
 
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Jack cringed slightly as he lifted the dank and slightly slippery service panel away from the wall and dropped it to the ground with a dull thud. Mold, lots of it, covered the inside of the shallow cavity that allowed access to internal vault systems. Putting away his wrench he reached into the service hatch and wiped a film of black furry god knows what off of the mains water pipe where an obvious leak had formed, the pipe must have been dripping for years before the whole thing gave way and water started pouring out of the wall much to the amusement of the younger ones. "I swear this whole god damn place is falling apart," he grumbled to himself, reaching into his tool bag for the materials to repair the busted old pipe.

On the surface the vault seemed fine but lately it had been showing its age, busted fixtures littered old hallways where replacement wasn't deemed a necessity and even the floor in Jack's bunk was starting to sink (whether due to structural issues or the fact that the vault was built in swampland who knows.) Most troubling of all however was the frequency of the breakdowns, it seemed to Jack like every day something new was breaking, a broken door here a burst pipe there, it all added up and the stress was getting to Jack, he wanted out as soon as possible. Jack could only Imagine the outside world with its fresh air, an open "sky" whatever that was, and a sea of water as far as the eye could see, hell maybe he could even make a name for himself out in the world but that daydream was quickly broken by a jet of water applied directly to the forehead.

Sopping wet from a few unruly sprays of water Jack pulled a dirty rag from his tool belt and gave the service hatch a quick wipe down before sealing it back up, the pipe was patched for now but only time could tell whether or not it would hold. Jack gave his clothes a quick wring and headed towards the cafeteria planning to have a quick bite to eat before returning to his quarters in order to change into some less wet clothes.
 
Lily woke to the sound of the intercom message blasting into her vault apartment from outside. Her eyes peeling open after a moment of internal frustration, she looks toward the alarm clock on her bed stand and was dismayed to see it was time to get up. Sitting up, she yawned, stretching as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. She glanced over at the sleeping form of Tess Williams, another resident of the vault, lying naked in her bed. She was laying on her side and facing away, covered by the sheets with her blonde hair sprawling out across Lily’s extra pillow.

Wanting to get her morning nicotine fix, Lily reaches over to the stand and grabs a Vault-Tec electronic cigarette, turning it on with a press of a button. Puffing on the electronic cigarette, she lay in bed, listening to the Overseer’s message on the intercom which could be heard from within her vault apartment. Seeing a notification on the Vault-Tec messaging app installed on her Pip-Boy, she reaches over and scoops ups the device, lazily looping the wrist watch like device over her arm to get a better look. She had a new message from Ethan Schmidt, a co worker of hers from the Vault 51 Elementary School.

MisterSchmidt913: Hey Lils. Do you have the material for today’s History class? The children are going to be learning about the Civil War today!

The Lilinator: Hi Ethan. Yes, I have the material. I’ll give them to you today at school.

MisterSchmidt913: Great, thanks! I just love it when our children learns about these great feats our forefathers made. I always love teaching about American history. One day, we’ll rebuild the United States, you know!

MisterSchmidt913: Anyway, how about we meet up tonight for Mr. Summer’s birthday? We could go together!

Ignoring the last message, Lily notices another notification. This one was from Terry Hsu, another resident of the vault.

Hsumaker: Hey Lily! I’m playing that motherhood simulator game on the Pip-Boy right now before class starts. Are you still down to play later tonight? You still have those bottles of formula you’re willing to trade, right?

The Lilinator: Of course. Tonight is a go. Be sure to tell the others who are also playing with us.

Hsumaker: Awesome, I’ll let them know. See you tonight! I’ll be getting my tradeables ready.

Getting out of bed gently so she wouldn’t disturb Tess, Lily put aside her e-cigarette and got about getting ready for the day. Heading into the restroom, she washed up and slipped into her vault suit. Grabbing her bag which contained her teacher supplies, she left a note for Tess telling her to let herself out and that she would meet her later once she woke up, and left her apartment.

On the way to the Vault 51 Elementary School, she remembered the conversation she had with Terry about the events later tonight. She smirked with satisfaction and a sense of excitement, but quickly covered up the expression, not wanting anyone to notice the smug expression she had.
 
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Father Lee gasped from the sudden shock. Taking a few seconds to recompose himself, he then continued to speak. "Well, that was shocking." as he then chuckled. "What was that Dominic? Is that your most recent creation? If it was, then well this was certainly an electrifying first experience. More so than your other pieces." He gently prodded to see what Dominic came to see him for. After all, he did seem troubled, but Father Lee wasn't much of a patron of the fine arts either. Still, humor and gentle questioning would hopefully clarify this strange situation.
 
The Overseer smiled, a sardonic expression that never quite reached his cold motionless eyes. Retrieving a metal canteen from his desk, he took a drink before answering. "Let us say in confidence; while the Thirteen Commonwealths squabbled with the People's Republic of China and what was left of the supposed United Nations over the remaining global oil reserves untouched by the Resource Wars, Vault Tec conducted a government sanctioned large scale experiment of sorts on this very subject for this very contingency. The data is sound, and the variables which resulted in the unexpected conclusion of that particular avenue of research are fully absent here and well within our means to manipulate to ensure tailored results."

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Dominic Taylor anxiously shook his head. "In all actuality, Father Lee, I was hoping you would be able to explain," he spoke slowly, waiting for the meaning of his words to set in. "I'm a painter, a sculptor, such creations are beyond me. When I discovered this affliction of mine a week ago I nearly fried myself in the showers. My skin still feels raw. The doctors wouldn't help if I went to them, not truly, and the vault archives? They're useless on an elusive topic I know of no name for."

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Miss Lola Stuart thanked Atto Gulfman, and seemed especially delighted in her compliments directed to Geoff Creel before finally fluttering her way towards the opposite end of the room to micromanage the decorations and organize arriving guests. Approximately a half hour later, she cheerfully addressed the diner, voice warbly. "Positions everyone! Positions! Mr. Summers will be arriving shortly, but this isn't a surprise birthday party, mind. Wouldn't want this to be his last, would we?" She looked over to Geoff Creel, "be a dear and turn down the lights over there halfway. Fixtures strain the great man's vision something awful."

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Not long after Lily Park made it to her classroom her pupils began to file in. Those few who didn't come of their own independent volition were escorted by one of their guardians or a friendly security officer. No child missed school in Vault 51 unless they happened to be unwell, the Overseer made sure of that at least. Today, she could tell from their excited behavior, the boys would be more of a handful than usual. Most belonged to one of two of the little league team of the vault, the Alligators and Pelicans, to be competing in the atrium baseball game later tonight.
 
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"You're doing exactly what I asked you not to do, giving me a vague promise of what you have in store this helps me none, and the explanation doesn't inspire that you are getting what we actually need...We need metal, we need new pipes, steel for expansion, copper for wiring, we barely have metal enough to keep this place from falling apart. Unless Vault-tec gave you an infinite reserve of Steel, Copper, or Concrete that you haven't told me about our Vault is going to fail. Like it or not I see no alternative to rectifying our current situation without going above and scavenging the old forgotten world for these things, especially if we are going to facilitate any new growth let alone stay down in here for another decade. I'm sorry to upset you overseer but the way I see it is you have no choice but to open the Vault unless you want everyone in here to die. You have two path of going about this, you could do it in a controlled manor where you keep the allegiance of most in the vault by sending out scavenging parties and the like, or you can keep us bottled in here on a fuse until we burst out." William found himself furiously and uncontrollably pacing back and forth in the overseer's office, How could he be so blind so unaware of the condition of his own vault? Perhaps this Ancient relic was no longer fit to be the overseer of the Vault. He seemed as disconnected from the world of the vault that they all were from the one outside of the vault. "With all do Respect... Sir... I really cannot see this vault continuing on this current course we either try and deal with the problem or it will blow in not just your face but my family's as well. Once the vault starts falling apart it'll end in many deaths during the chaos and not you nor I will be able to stop the onslaught." At this point he found himself up against the overseer's desk practically fuming, he expanded and contracted heavily as he breathed. Slowly his boiling blood began to lower as he awaited a response.
 
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Jack slowly made his way to the cafeteria but decided at the last minute to instead head straight back to his quarters, a crowd had gathered preparing for Mr. Summer's birthday and he didn't want to intrude on the preparations and possibly dirty up the nice and freshly mopped floors, that would just be rude and besides, he had an unfinished packet of potato crisps back at his quarters. As soon as Jack entered his quarters he threw off his clothes and turned on the shower, eager to get every single speck of that black stuff off of him.

Not five minutes had passed before the water cut off and Jack emerged to dry off and get ready for his next job, but just as he had finished dressing he heard a crunch crunch coming from his living area, "This better not be what i think it is" Jack thought to himself before he opened the bathroom door and saw three figures sitting at his dining table. "Done some redecorating have y-" One of the figures started to say when Jack turned to the largest figure and interrupted, "What the fuck do you think you're doing? those are my potato crisps." Jack stomped towards them and snatched the can away before complaining to them some more, "Jacob you can't keep doing this, those are worth an entire day's rations, MY rations." It turns out that Jacob, one of the three mysterious figures (not to mention the largest) was one of Jack's friends from engineering, in fact all of them were from engineering. Jack sat down and in a slightly peeved tone of voice told the group, "You're all early, I told you guys to wait a few hours." Maya, one of the two girls in the group replied, "We saw puddles of water leading back to your quarters and assumed you'd already finished." Her short blonde hair was stained black in places by grease and debris obviously gathered while servicing a generator or other machinery. "Come on lets just get this all over with." Said Jessica, the other girl of the group.

After minutes of exposition the group understood and agreed with what was going on, the vault wasn't a future for them and they needed to get out but how? The vault door was sealed shut and trying to escape through would attract the attention of the entirety of vault security, and that was even assuming they knew the vault door codes. Each person was given a job to do, Maya was tasked with getting broken Mr Handy robots up and running, Jessica was tasked with gathering rations and equipment for their escape, Jacob was tasked with finding weapons for their escape and probable battle with vault security, but Jack had the most important jobs of all.

The group bid each other farewell and started on their plan, Jack decided that first though he would need to stop by hydroponics to pick up some supplies for his potted plants, hydroponics was located on the way to his next stop anyway. Throwing on his jacket and tool belt he marched out of his quarters and down the many hallways to hydroponics, he knocked on the door patiently and awaited a reply.
 
Geoff allowed Lola to prattle on about the party before acknowledging her request and standing up. He took a moment to stretch and let out a momentous yawn, realizing just how tired he was getting. He supposed that it must be the coffee crash kicking in. He resolved to make his rounds, shake some hands, scarf down a piece of cake, and then make a hasty retreat to his apartment to brush his teeth and get cleaned up. He plodded towards the lightswitch, which was on the opposite side of the room from where he was, of all places. A few other residents who he knew vaguely waved from where they were either standing or sitting. A child who seemed perturbed glanced towards Geoff and then quickly away. The kid grabbed onto his mothers hand, staring towards the door to the diner. Oh, thought Geoff, I guess he doesn't like old people? Eh, could be. He quickened his place and snapped the two light switches off, casting the diner into a dim shadow. Geoff paused, and quieted down. Was this supposed to be a surprise party? Oh crap. What if it was? Lola said he was old and . . . He didn't know what to do. On one hand, it would be an absolute mistake to snap the lights back on and start yapping at Lola who would likely start crying or something if her precious party was soured by having the introduction ruined. On the other hand, if everyone gave the old man a very hearty welcome, it might make him keel over in shock. Neutrality, he thought. If I just get way out of the way, Lola will be too busy talking to everyone and if it does turn out that it was meant to be a surprise, I can't be implicated in whatever sort of heart attack the guy has. Geoff scooted back towards the corner of the diner and sat down in a stool, hoping to remain out of sight and out of mind and far away from as many people as possible. This party is turning out to be a real pain in the ass. The cake, though - The cake! It had been a long time since Geoff had enjoyed a piece of cake. Sugary products were limited to saccharine tablets for coffee and prepackaged heavily rationed snack cakes. Perhaps, he thought, Lola could be endured just long enough to snatch a piece of cake. Geoff peered towards the young boy he had noticed earlier. He was now eagerly hopping up and down as his mother whispered, most likely something about there being an opportunity for cake, into his ear. Geoff felt a little twist of uncharacteristic anger in his heart. Little rat-bastard. Gonna eat all the cake before I can get a taste? Don't you know how hard I work? Gonna get me a piece and eat it all in front of you, kid. As soon as it came, the anger went. Geoff furrowed his eyebrows, internally somewhat shocked at himself for his misdirected anger. He had to physically tense his body in order to not mutter out an apology to the back of the kids head.

Geoff planted his rear end firmly on his stool, his mind made up. He would get his cake and beat a hasty retreat. It had been too long of a day already.
 
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