"Silo"

[Alice2015]

"Silo"​

To join, read. If you like it, PM the Hostess ... me!

****************

Some Useful Links:

Past, Present, and Future
(How we got here, where we are, and where we're going.)

The Greeve
(Those nasty not-so-little aliens who kicked our asses and stole our planet.)

Cast of characters
(The Who's Who of Silo.)

The Community of Silo
(The missile silo that is our home, as well as all that surrounds it.)

Terminology and FAQs
(Everything you ever wanted to know and were afraid to ask.


A Note About Link Colors:
Red -- other thread pages, maps, etc.
Green -- character images.
Indigo -- character profiles.​

Silo
30 miles west of Topeka, Kansas
November 2050



Goddess of the Dawn...

As she watched the sun slowly ascend and bathe the cold Kansas prairie in warm colors, Aurora reflected on the meaning behind her name. Her mother -- with the equally colorful name of Glory -- had raised her to believe that she and she alone determined what life would bring her, that life began anew with each new day, each new dawn. You are the Goddess of your life, your day, your dawn.

Her mother's words had stuck with Aurora all those years, as had the symbolism of the rising sun. Since her mother's death ten years ago, Aurora had rarely missed witnessing the dawning of the new day. This morning, as with most mornings, she was standing in the middle of the Goat Pasture a hundred yards west of the farm house. The sun rose above the distant horizon, silhouetting the leafless oaks, maples, and elms, giving them an eerie skeletal appearance.

In the mid-20th century, the farm -- 3 miles south of Paxico, 30 miles west of Topeka -- had been a working ranch and farm, raising beef and sheep and growing corn, wheat, sorghum, and other crops. Of course, that had all been cover for the property's primary use.

Directly beneath Aurora's feet was an underground ICBM silo which had once housed an Atlas missile. The weapon had been decommissioned and removed in the 1980s, its USAF personnel reassigned and the electrical and mechanical equipment stripped out. The property continued to operate as a farm and ranch almost into the 21st century, until the agricultural subsidies that had kept it profitable were slashed.

A developer bought the land and turned the silo into an underground condominium building. His hope had been that real estate investors would buy the 14 luxury apartment and -- when not personally occupying them -- let his company rent them, for a percentage of course, to tourists looking for a unique vacation experience.

But as they say, hope springs eternal. Before construction had been completed, the project was in bankruptcy. It sat empty for almost two decades, only to find a purpose after the Greeve began their conquest of Earth.

Aurora's mother, whose bank had held the paper on the property, headed west with her then-two year old and a selected friends and family. Their new lives began with the two dozen men, women, and children simply hiding in the dark with lanterns and the bare necessities, listening to the radio reports of their civilization being destroyed and their species being annihilated.

Soon, as the attacks waned, the people began to build a new life. Using what they'd brought with them, what they could barter for with neighbors, and what they could create, grow, or raise on the property, the people who would come to be called Gophers abandoned the idea of simply surviving and adopted a philosophy instead of thriving.

They created a government, with Glory being unanimously elected Mayor of what was now simply being called Silo. They created a monetary system using a case of unique, special event poker chips. They established a fair, flat tax to support community services, such as the Security Force, the Custodial Staff, and more. Opportunities. And they created employment opportunities for anyone and everyone willing to put their knowledge and effort to good use.

By 2025, just five years after the Greeve arrived at Earth, Silo was a prosperous community. Wanderers and traders arrived from as far away as Kansas City, Wichita, and Lincoln. There were hard times as well, such as when armed militias arrived and tried to take what they didn't deserve. But Silo survived and continued.

Tragedy struck when Glory was killed in 2040 during a militia attack. The Gophers elected Aurora to replace her mother, and since that day she had dedicated every moment of her life to bettering the lives of her people. Well, not every moment. As she watched the sun clear the trees and, even this early on a late Autumn day, begin to warm her skin, she thought This moment is mine ... all mine ... the dawn ... my dawn.

 

[Alice2015]

(OOC: For the purposes of the picture in this post, the gun is real and the bag of money is just a bag.)


2044
Six Years Ago
Boothill Road
Perimeter Outpost:

The Lookout squinted his eyes under the harsh, blazing August sun, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Half an hour ago, he'd thought he'd seen something on the road, cresting over the top of a small hillock more than two miles away. The black dot in the otherwise yellow and brown terrain could have been a human, could have not. It disappeared behind the next hillock before the Lookout could decide.

Minutes later, he was sure he'd seen the figure again, cresting the next slight rise, before again disappearing. He chastised himself for forgetting his binoculars back at Silo, which was almost two miles away by dirt road. And the rifle with a 9 power scope was with his partner, who was sawing logs in the shade of a huge maple.

He continued to study the area to the south when suddenly the black dot was again bobbing before him, this time just beyond the nearest hill, just 80 yards away. At this distance, the dot became a head, which became a full body.

And ... wow, what a body!

The lookout's attention was fixed so firmly on the hour glass figure, swaying hips, and long legs that by the time he noticed the gun dangling in her right hand, she was within firing distance of him.

"Gun!" the lookout called over his shoulder as he leveled his open sights rifle at the woman. When he didn't get the expected response from his partner, he dropped behind the sand bag wall that was the Outpost, picked up a rock, and threw it at his partner. The toss wad dead on, striking the man in the chest and sending him quickly to his feet as the panicked Lookout called, "Pinball! Gun! She's packing!"

"Who's packing?" Pinball called, still half asleep and blurry eyed as he located his rifle and unsteadily made his way toward his partner."Flattop? Who's packing?"

Flattop only pointed with his rifle, then turned his full attention to the woman.

The second lookout finally got a look at the woman and mumbled, "Je ... sus ... Christ! And to think I didn't want to stand watch today."

"What do we do?" Flattop asked, his voice filled with concern if not outright panic.

"We get out the whiskey and condoms," Pinball said, ogling the woman who was now less than 20 yards away.

"She's got a gun!" Flat top reminded his counterpart.

"So do you, you stupid fuck!" Pinball chastised. The more confident guard stood the rifle against the back of the sand bag barricade and pulled the 9mm from his hip, telling his partner to settle down. "And get your finger off the trigger. You kill her on accident before I get to fuck her purposefully, and I'll cut your dick off with a dull knife."

As the woman neared to just 10 yards, Pinball ordered, "I need you to stop, Miss ... put the weapon on the ground ... then proceed forward with your hands where I can see them!"

The woman slowed, then stopped just five yards away. Both lookouts had their weapons trained on the woman, ready to drop her if it became necessary.

Pinball's confidence had been based upon the idea that the woman would do as he said without question. After all, there were two of them. But when she didn't follow his command to raise her hands, let alone disarm, his confidence began to wane.

"Miss!" he repeated, this time louder.

Flattop cut in, "Maybe she doesn't speak English."

"I need you to put the weapon on the ground!" Pinball continued, ignoring his partner. With his free hand, he gestured toward the pavement, now cracked and filled with wandering lines of weeds and grass dried by the long, hot summer. "Put down the gun ... and come this way ... slowly!"

The woman just stared at him.

"My God..." Flattop murmured. "Look at her. She's ... is that blood?"

Pinball had noticed something on the woman, too, but until his partner said that word, he hadn't realized that the substance staining the woman's arms, legs, and clothes was old, now dust infused blood. He raised the gun and put himself more on guard as he commanded, "Put the gun down!"

The woman bent at the knees and waist and set the gun and bag on the ground. Pinball continued to repeat his orders to her to move forward, but after a minute of getting nothing from her, he commanded Flattop, "Cover me."

The bigger, confident, yet slightly trembling lookout circled around the woman, watching her closely, the aim of his sidearm never leaving her torso. He retrieved the gun and stuffed it in the small of his back. He retrieved the bag, then stepped back away from the woman. She didn't move, only staring now at Flattop.. Pinball was asking her questions -- Who are you...? What's your name...? Where'd you come from? -- and getting nothing from her.

Checking to ensure that Flattop was covering him, he holstered his own weapon and opened the leather bag -- and immediately turned and retched all over the crumbling pavement...



Today:

The man buckled his pants and zipped his fly as he looked down upon the leggy naked form staring up at him in silence. He smiled, saying, "That was great ... Vicki, right?"

The woman said nothing, only staring at him without emotion. He retrieved his coat, dug into one of the oversized pockets, and pulled out several poker chips of varying denominations. They had been pressed for a nearby, as-of-yet-unopened Indian casino back before the arrival of the Greeve. Because they had been in a known and limited quantity and uncirculated, they'd been adopted at Silo's money, replacing the awkward barter system that had been the source of so many problems and conflicts.

"Fifty, right?" he asked, setting two of the green chips on the lamp table next to the bed. He looked to her, then set out two red ones -- ten Chits -- as he said with a happy smirk, "For that thing you did."

He waited for her to say something ... anything ... but all she did was stare at him with those big, dark eyes. He turned to leave but stopped at the door, looking back at her. She was incredible, not just in what she'd done with her body but in that body, too.

"I, um..." He hesitated, then chuckled nervously. "I almost didn't come in here ... to you, I mean. I heard a--" He laughed again. "I heard a crazy story that when you got here, you were carrying a leather bag with a head in it ... a human head." He laughed again, waiting for her to say something. Anything! his brain screamed, wanting the woman who had just given him the greatest suck'n'fuck since he'd lost his virginity so many years ago to deny the wild tale his Boys had told him earlier. But when she said nothing, a concerned expression filled his face. He hurried to open the door, saying only, "Thanks."

Once the man was gone, Vicki went into her private bathroom -- in whole, barely 12 square feet in size -- and showered under a strong stream of hot water. Silo's registered prostitutes rarely ran out of hot water. They paid extra for it, of course, but it was necessary. No one wanted to fuck a smelly whore. Once she was rid of the man's smell -- inside and out -- Vicki dressed and did up her face with some pre-Greeve era makeup she'd gotten in a very costly trade.

She reached to a hook and took down the leather bag strap. Regardless of what she was wearing or where she was going, Vicki never went without the strap, which she now worn as a belt. It was special to her. It was all that remained of the leather bag she'd arrived here with, the leather bag that had been taken from her and burned ... along with the human head that had been inside it.

 

[Alice2015]

Introducing Delal: Profile


Atop a rise northwest of Silo
10am:

Since well before dawn, Delal had been monitoring the goings on in and around the small farm a half mile away southeast of and a bit below her hill top position. It had been an enlightening six hours, most of it spent with her eye behind the scope of her AR-15.

She'd heard that a community called Silo could be found here. It was supposed to be a place where hard working, honest, dependable people could -- as the catch phrase went -- Not just survive but thrive! She didn't believe that such a thing was possible in this world. Survival was all she'd known since birth, and now at 24, she didn't think anything would ever be possible again.

But that didn't mean she was unwilling to at least take a look. She'd been traveling alone for weeks, zig zagging westward, crossing the Mississippi and wandering about the Great Plains when she heard of the mystical community. She'd been told Silo's population was over 100, but when she found only a farm house and a couple of out buildings, Delal knew that she'd been misled by dreamers.

And yet, she'd seen more than 60 people wandering the property since sun rise. How could 60 people survive -- let alone thrive -- in a single, two story farm house without eventually going mad and killing one another?

Delal's attention had particularly been upon a dark haired woman who had walked out into a wide open pasture and simply stood there for nearly an hour. The woman had occasionally fed the goats surrounding her from a bag, presumably grains, but for the most part she had simply stood there, facing the east, as the sun had risen beyond the homestead.

Delal couldn't know of the woman's infatuation with the dawn. And despite the stories she'd heard of the place called Silo, Delal had never once been told of the reason for the community's name, the 200 foot deep tube that was, ironically, directly below the feet of the woman in the pasture.

After the Sunrise Lady returned to the farm house, Delal returned to observing the people walking about the property. Some were obviously security personnel, armed with a variety of weapons, as was the norm in this new world. She saw a woman and a trio of men walk to and through a small grove of trees to what would turn out to be a shooting range, where the woman instructed the men on how to properly operate a fully automatic AR-15, like the one Delal herself was carrying. They didn't shoot many rounds, perhaps sixty or seventy between them. Delal wondered whether that meant that they were simply renewing their knowledge of the gun or were short on ammunition ... or both.

There were others on the farm. She saw little kids go in and out of what was obviously a chicken coop, likely collecting eggs. She'd watched a woman pull a rabbit out of a pen, snap its neck, string it up, skin and gut it, and head back to the house, all in less than three minutes.

Another woman and a little boy milked one goat after another as a man trimmed the animals' hooves and checked their ears, eyes, and mouths, presumably looking for disease or abnormalities.

At the little pond of which -- because of a grove of trees -- Delal could only see the northeast edge, little boys were catching bull frogs with fishing nets, cutting off and skinning the legs, and tossing them into a pot steaming over a nearby fire. They tossed the remains back into the pond, where Delal knew that the still living, non-native amphibians would make a meal of them. The boys then raced around the property with stick guns, shooting one another, presumably practicing for their turn at joining Security in the future. Occasionally, they would go back to the pot, snatch out and chew on a leg, then return to either catching more lunch or playing more.

The people of Silo weren't just raising stock down there either. There were farmer types, too. It was November, so most of the cultivated fields had already been harvested. But she watched as men with scythes cut and collected straw; and women harvested beets, turnips, and potatoes from the huge vegetable garden that occupied at least half an acre around the south and east side of the pond.

A sound from behind Delal reminded her that she had duties to perform this morning other than reconnaissance. She crawled until she was behind the rise and could stand. She returned to the llama loaded with everything important to her and asked the creature, "Shall we go take a look? The worst that can happen is they eat you and turn me into a sex slave."

She looked to her most important possession and, with grave concern and deep hope both, added softly, "Worse could happen. But ... life is full of dangers, choices, and ... dreams."

The animal jerked its head, blurted out, then spit, narrowly missing its owner's head. Delal stuck an extended finger up before the llama's face and, reminding the beast of one of its kind's more tasty uses, threatened, "Eighteen million hungry Chileans can't be wrong."

As the animal settled down, Delal wrapped her Keffiyeh over her face, donned a stocking cap and gloves, and led it away, keeping higher ground between her and the farm. She circled clockwise around the ridge until she came to the dirt road. An ancient road sign, leaning to the right and now barely readable, announced the road's name as being Flintview and the nearest town to the north: Paxico, 3 miles. Delal smiled at the hand painted, much newer sign wired to the post below it with an arrow pointing to the south: Silo, a hop, skip, and a jump.

She headed south down the road. Delal didn't get far before it skirted a grove of trees. She hesitated at the crest of the current hillock, studying the grove. Most of the trees were deciduous, now lacking most of their foliage and offering no dark cover to potential attackers. But all about their trunks were thick, evergreen shrubs and small trees.

Perfect hiding place she thought. She was more right than she imagined. Hidden in the shrubs was a camouflaged encirclement of sand bags, which she would later learn was called the Flintview Road Outpost by Silo's Security Force and the Sunrise Lady.

Behind the cover of the llama, she removed and stored her gloves, then checked that a live round was in the chamber of her Glock. She stuffed it into her belt in such a way to allow quick access. Then, circling the llama, she very conspicuously removed the assault rifle, held it in the air above her for a long moment, and hung it from the llama's pack. She continued forward, slowly.

Sure enough, an armed man -- his face and head covered against the weather as hers was -- stepped out of the bushes, taking a position in the middle of the road. He waved her to continue forward, saying calmly but firmly, "Keep coming ... keep your hands where I can see them ... and keep in mind that I'm not alone."

Delal hesitated, her mind suddenly flooded with old memories by the familiar voice. When the man repeated his demands, her heart leaped in her throat. She moved forward slowly, her heart now pounding in her chest. When she got close, he began with the standard questions she'd heard at any of a hundred perimeter outposts over the years. She nodded or shook her head appropriately, but didn't speak. She couldn't! She was frozen in shock.

She was watching the man's eyes -- familiar eyes -- and soon she noticed that they were fixed on the Keffiyeh covering her face, a scarf that he must have been thinking was familiar to him, too. His eyes widened as hers already had. He asked her to lower the cloth that was a remnant of her long lost Tribe of wanderers. When she didn't, he repeated his request.

Delal couldn't be sure who was more shocked, she or the man with whom she'd spent so many wonderful, erotic nights...

... until three years ago...

...before they'd gone their separate ways ...

...before...

"Mama!

Delal attention remained fixed on the man as, behind her, a little girl -- waking from her nap -- began extricating herself from the pack that kept her secure and warm atop the llama as the pair wandered the Great Plains. Her head popped up. Her eyes blinked. Her hands rubbed at her face. Then, searching her new surroundings and -- finding her mother and the man before the woman -- smiled and announced, "Mama! I'm'ungry."

Delal studied the man's reaction, knowing that he would be doing the math in his head. She reached up and revealed her face, which now contained glazed eyes and trembling lips. She hadn't expected this. How could she have? She had no idea how she was supposed to proceed with this. And before she realized what she was doing, Delal answered the question that she knew had to be going through the man's brain as simply as it could be.

"Yes, Tom."

 

[Alice2015]

AT THIS POINT...

I want to point any readers (and prospective writers) to a pair of Scene Threads that are being written separately from this, the Main IC Thread.

"The Devil's Due"

• Takes place right now, November 2050, parallel to the Main IC's time line.
• Takes place in Paxico, Kansas, 3 miles north of Silo.

"She Hits Like A Girl":

• Begins in 2047, three years before the current IC timeline.
• It is essentially a flash back to the two characters in the post above in this thread

 

[Elvenoff1]

Tom shook the morning dew out of his hair and wiped his face with the last baby wipe he had. He shivered with the morning chill while starting at his thermos full of coffee wondering if it stayed luke warm this damn time for last time it was cold, thick, and almost like swallowing mud from the mud puddle. “Well nothing like the present time to be foolish.” Tom spouted out as he poured the contents from his thermos to the cup. He eyed it with a stern, firm jaw. “You best be what I want this morning.” He threatened the coffee with an evil eye to boot. Clearing his throat he took a sip, “Holly Shit!” his eyes crinkled up, his face sucked up as if he just took a healthy bite into a lemon. Okay it was not as bad as swallowing mud from the mud puddle, and it was not as bad as the damn road tar one that he drank the day before! Nevertheless, it still sucked and was not what he was praying it would have been.

He tossed the cup to the side saying a few choice words to it, but was now moving on to the only thing he knew would be good. He opened with glee, his last cupcake and smiled as the last portion slid past his taste buds! This was his third day out here and he could not wait to get back to the Silo where there was hot coffee and well his cupcake took care of his love of the famous chocolate pancake! His mind traveled back when he first got here. Aurora swore he was crazy when he made his triple layered chocolate filled pancake with peanut butter topping for her. It was her loss when she ran away from the fork that was chasing her around the table.. He chuckled to the memory as if it happened this morning.

He was about to get the old shaven kit out when he heard a noise that was not part of the morning sounds that he had come accustomed too. He immediately grabbed his weapon and dived behind the sandbags, grapping his field glasses he slowly rose up to the top of the sandbag and surveyed the area beyond the figure that was walking on the road toward him. He wanted to make sure she did not have any friends hanging ten and waiting. A mistake that some of his men did in the fighting falcons that ended their life that day. His heart sank as the memories of the gone invaded his mind. ’Get a grip Tom; remember you promised Aurora you would handle these demons that kept haunting you.’ He took a deep guff of air and refused upon the figure that was approaching. The figure had a rifle but it was up in the air for a great while before the figure put it upon the llama as it continued to walk forward.

He stepped out and took his place in the center of the road. His rifle held in his hands and leveled at his waist. He watched the figure get closer and closer before he continued to urge the figure closer and closer until he warned her about keeping her hands where he could see them, and for her to remember that he was not alone. Then the figure stopped and stared at him. “Keep coming this way!” Tom’s voice echoed over the distance between them. The figure continued to approach him until he raised his hand for them to stop. Tom moved up a little and began to ask all the security questions that were written up by Aurora that covered many aspects of the individual’s life and doings.

Tom watched as the figure nodded or shook their head in a no fashion, then it hit him like a sixteen pound cannon ball that he has seen that Keffiyeh before. His glare shifted to the figures eyes. There was no way in hell Tom’s mind screamed. She was gone; she left with the tribe that night after the massacre at boulder valley. He ordered her to lower her Keffiyeh and like the one from his past stood offish against him. “Lower the damn thing!” Tom barked

“MAMA!” Tom shot his eyes to a small girl about three years old pop out of a pack that was secured upon the llama. His eyes narrowed and focused upon the woman whom had a few common traits that mimicked Delal. He began to do the math from the one night that Delal and he shared to now; His eyes went wide as she shot a glare at the woman whom was now removing her Keffiyeh revealing her face. Tom’s eyes watered up with so many emotions he just shook his head that it was not possible. Then the voice, the face, the demeanor about her it was Delal and before he could ask, she shook her head and voiced to him… “Yes, Tom.”

Tom took a step back shaking his head looking at her with a face that was emotionless, but his heart was screaming why, and his mind was charging that this was just a dream and he hasn’t woke up yet.” He reached back with trembling hands and pulled out a handwritten letter wrote to him by Delal and showed it to her. “I loved you so much, would have done anything for you! “Why Delal why did you do this?” he asked her coldly. “He looked at the girl, “How do you know she is mine?” he was trying to be cold so he could get a hold of his emotions so he could think straight.

He looked at the girl again and remembered what she said to her mother. Tom reached in and took the candy bar from his pocket opened it and showed it to his mother then gestured if he could give it to her with her nod he moved forward toward the girl smiling to her. “Hi, My name is Tom, Now I have this candy bar here so what do you have to trade for it?" …. He looked at the little girl and waited for a few moments then making her an offer. "If you tell me your name you can have this whole candy bar.” He whispered to her while looking into her eyes, she had his eyes…and her mothers nose… “MY God Delal we have a little girl!” He kneeled down to one knee to get his balance… The tears fell…

 

[Alice2015]

Delal studied Tom through watering eyes, and she could see that this was affecting him as deeply as it was her. When he reached into his pocket and withdrew an envelope -- wrinkled by time but none the less that one -- Delal sobbed once before getting as much of a grip on her emotions as she could.

“I loved you so much..." Tom began. "...would have done anything for you! Why Delal why did you do this?”

She opened her mouth to explain, but ... nothing came out. She imagined a thousand times how she would explain her sudden disappearance that night so long if she were ever to come face to face with Tom again. And yet, here she was, standing before him, unable to put two words together.

Tom looked to her daughter -- their daughter, and asked, "How do you know she is mine?”

Delal wasn't hurt by the question. She doubted that he truly questioned her parentage. But if the little girl hadn't burst forth from her own body, Delal would have asked the question, too. She cleared her throat and said in a soft sincere tone, "There's never ever been anyone else, Tom." She hesitated for a moment, then emphasized, "Ever!"

It was true. Tom hadn't only been Delal's first, he'd been her only. For three years, she'd been as celibate as she had been her first twenty. It had been a combination of choice and circumstances. Delal hadn't met a man with whom she would have wanted to have sex; and some men who had been physically insistent about having sex with her had paid for their actions with their lives.

She watched her former lover approach the llama and open a plastic baggy. The girl showed no fear, only smiling down to the man, even more so when she saw that he was offering food.

“Hi, My name is Tom," he began. "Now I have this candy bar here so what do you have to trade for it?"

She looked to her mother for guidance, but instead got an offer from the stranger.

"If you tell me your name you can have this whole candy bar.”

Again the girl looked to Delal, and after getting an approving nod answered proudly, "Dawn."

Delal smiled at the name. She so often referred to her daughter as honey or baby doll or other pet names. It was nice to hear the little girl's actual name spoken. Tom had looked over his shoulder at Delal as she'd clarified, and suddenly Dawn snatched the candy out of his hand. By the time the man turned to the action, the girl was chewing on the end, her eyes wide with obvious appreciation.

“My God, Delal," he said, kneeling down to the ground, "we have a little girl!”

As Tom's tears ran down his cheek, Delal's did the same. She looked over to find the other Perimeter Guard relaxing at what was becoming a family reunion and smiled to him. She walked over close to the man, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to entwine her fingers in his hair, causing his hat to fall off to the ground behind him. She'd loved playing with his hair back then. Playing with his hair ... kissing his lips ... touching his body... The memories flooded, as did her eyes.

She reached up to the little girl, clutching her and lowering her to the ground, where she, too, took a knee near the crying man. She may not have been able to recall any of the thousands of explanations she'd practiced, but she was beginning to think that maybe she didn't need one after all. Maybe, just maybe, the two of them might be able to pick up where they'd left off ... plus one, of course.

There simply was no way of knowing whether Commander Tom Nightland of the Fighting Falcons would be able to forgive the desertion of one of his soldiers ... particularly when her disappearance had taken with it the possibility of a wholly different existence. What she did know, however, was that it was time for her to take a chance.

"Dawn, honey," she said, moving the little girl closer to the man. "This is mommy's friend, Tom. Mommy's good friend."

She looked to Tom and asked quietly, "Do you want to tell her what you are ... or me ... or, should we wait ... and talk?"

Her expression and tone was meant for him to understand that she was giving him permission to announce his relationship to the girl. She couldn't just blurt it out, although he had already made the comment that Dawn was theirs.

(OOC: This post is also the beginning post of a 1x1 called "A New Dawn", in which Delal and Tom will (Alice and Elvenoff) will trade some posts. It's easier to read and write both if we do it in a 1x1.)