January 19th, xxxy
EVERYTHING HAS BEEN PLANNED. Hotel booked, date planned, bag packed. Nuka had been elated for his temporary senior position that he'd thrown his arms in the air and said, "The Chosen One."
On the other hand, the Elders couldn't care less. They'll do what they've always done: be retired, enjoy the fruits of their labour and once in a while, remind everyone about their grey haired wisdom.
Precious had been obsessive—for lack of a better word—that every little thing, even the time they are allowed rest had been planned to a tee. Nothing, as Precious will declare, would be ruined. Today will be perfect.
Staring out the window of an idling car, Kamil couldn't say that this is perfect. The scenery is beautiful, he'll give the universe that. Snow is a white cap on the landscape, the houses dwarfish under the load: this is what earth will look like if the clouds fall.
"I'm guessing this isn't part of your plan."
