OOC: Adam, although you’ve kept Granite Squad’s infamous actions in Fallout 2 hidden, I do assume you would have nonetheless told people you were a member or his squad. That or the senior citizens, whoever they may be, would know, anyway? And by ‘night is young’, do we mean about 7 o’clock?
And I hope I didn’t assume too much control of the logistics of the event in this post.
The vertibird was greeted by a neat formation of soldiers as it descended onto the cracked car park. Said soldiers snapped into salute as a rather gruff looking fellow, who Adams – standing amongst various politicians and civilians – assumed to be Granite. Being apart of a different unit, Adams only crossed paths with Granite aboard the Oil Rig; they’d never had the opportunity to truly get acquainted. Still, judging from Sutler’s tales, he could vaguely guess as to what to expect from Granite.
I assume this won’t be all sunshine and lollypops, Adams snorted, eying a tired Granite being escorted inside the facility.
Although somewhat miffed at Granite’s absence, Adams managed to retain a pleasant smile on his now clean shaven face. The warm atmosphere, fuelled by patriotism and camaraderie, seeped into Adams’ body, providing him with joy and comfort – a sensation seldom felt mutually down in bunker.
Perhaps it’s the sun? Being stuck down in that cold, metallic hole, one sight of the outside world is like a damn God send, Adams pondered as he sauntered about the car park, picking idly at the rations laid out neatly on the flag-draqed tables.
Hell, with the surrounding land cultivated for harvest, they’ll have no choice but to enjoy the outside, assuming that doesn’t compromise our position… damn it, that’s a point. With that thought, Adams’ glance shot over to the guard post for a brief inspection – it was still manned, much to Adams’ reassurance.
Regardless of Adams’ more lenient policy on outsiders, the Enclave’s position being compromised would pose a huge threat, one which, as Secretary of Defence, Adams would feel accountable for. However, the surroundings put his mind at ease. Lieutenant Haywood, whom Adams assigned head of security for the event, appeared to be running a tight ship, and coupled with the Enclave’s various defence systems, any wastelander threat was likely to be quelled instantaneously.
Fired by patriotic anthems blasting out of the speakers, if not a little muffled, Adams whistled alongside the music, nodding to his fellow citizens. Their responses, however, lacked heart; undoubtedly due to Adams’ ideological allegiance. He just shrugged;
if you can’t find love for a fellow compatriot (OOC: I like this word – thanks for that) during such a momentous, festive occasion, then all power to you, you miserable old bastards.Adams stopped underneath the national flag fluttering with the gentle breeze. It stood high and mighty, and just the thought of the flag on the mainland, on American soil, felt as if progress had been made, as if one step had been made in the reclamation.
One day, all true Americans will bask in the delight but a small number have experienced today, he mused, observing the sun set behind the Manhattan bone yard looming far in the distance. Sighing, Adams span around back into the crowd, catching Secretary Hamilton glaring at him with narrowed eyes. Ignoring Hamilton, he approached a rather forlorn-looking Sutler.
“Why so glum?” Adams asked, trying not to sound too worried. “I’m not asking you for a dance, but, dare I say it, you’ve organised this event well; the least you should do is enjoy it, lest you dampen the spirit of your people. It’ll do ‘em good to see their president enjoying himself.” With that, Adams poured Sutler a glass of wine from the nearby table and placed it into his hands, clinking their glasses Leaning into Sutler, he whispered, “I’m not harbouring any illusion that this’ll mark the end of our quarrels, though let’s make the most of it, eh?” He retracted and began nursing his drink.
OOC: Looking back, I’m not sure the Enclave even has wine, though we have whisky, so wine doesn’t seem completely implausible. If there’s any excuse, we could just assume Mieux sent it a while ago as a sign of friendship, like he did with Adams and the cigars.
Also, I refered to the flag simply as the 'national flag', because I'm pretty sure the Enclave's flag was not the Stars and Stripes as we know it today. Correct me if I'm wrong.
EDIT: to avoid confusion, I better let you know that I personally am not saying Sutler is actually forlorn -- how he feels is at your discretion. I just got the impression he was standing on his lonesome, therefore Adams assumed he was upset about something. Gah, I've had to clarify way too much here.
» Fri May 13, 2011 2:57 pm 
