***November 23, 2108 5:00 PM***

*In a fairly large residence in the upper levels of Vault 40, a woman sits in her living room with her newborn as the radio plays an old love song. Her humming is the only other sound aside from her child's cooing as she's rocked to sleep. Just as the child closes her eyes, the sound of a buzzer from the entrance of the residence rings out. The woman carries her child with her to the door, trying to keep her from stirring again*

*She opens the door and is greeted by a familiar face*

[Enter Fredericka]

[Enter Abrianna]

[Insert pleasantries here, followed by brief discussion about the baby, a quick question or two about how work was/is holding up, then address the elephant in the room the fact that Rainero is not present]

[Exit Fredericka- tone will vary depending on the way the discussion ends.]

***9:00 PM***

*With a tired gait, a man exits the office belonging to the Chief Operating Officer of the mines of Vault 40. Though as he locks up, the owner of the office was markedly absent as he had made a habit of in the past several years.*

*The man leaving the office was used to closing up late however, taking up the burden of his father's work as his health declined. The strain however was simple enough to see in his usual dour expression, and though he had only turned 33 this year...*

*His hair was already turning white from the stress*
[Enter Rainero]

*As his night usually ends he begins to make his way towards the old Castiglioni residence. One of the largest in the vault shy of other certain families, including the Overseer's...it was by far the loneliest. It's sole inhabitant an increasingly senile, bitter, and drunk old man. A man who shirked the responsibilites of his duty in the vault onto his eldest son, who beyond reason continues to carry the work in his stead.*

*As he reaches the door of his old home out of the corner of his eye he sees a woman walking in the same corridor, as he turns he calls out to her as she tries to avoid eye contact.*

[Rainero calls to Rossa]

[Enter Rossa]

[Rossa tries to avoid speaking to him, but stops all the same.]

[Rainero spills his spaghetti trying to speak with her.]

[Rossa unconvinced tells him off, but Rainero convinces her to visit the old man at least now on the anniversary of their mother's death.]


Things to keep in mind about Rossa. In this conversation she is likely to retort by saying the help Rainero tried to provide to his father only let him bury himself in his addiction, that by overworking himself he neglected the rest of his family, and that she's endlessly frustrated that her own personal efforts have been thwarted by Rainero's past attitudes in her approach- that is to say skeptical and judgemental in her pschyatric methods.

[Rossa reluctantly agrees and they enter the room.]



*Rainero and Rossa enter the halls of their childhood home together, and approach the old wooden doors placed per the request of the family head at his private quarters.*

*The wooden doors not providing the same level of sound insulation that the standard vault doors, it was not uncommong to hear the wailing and cursing coming from the belligerent drunk that dwelled within.*

*However...today it was silent*

"Father...I've brought Rossa, we've come to pay our respects.*

*He knocks on the door*

*No response*

*He knocks again.* "Father? Are you...are you alright?"

"Could he be sleeping?" *Rossa asks*

"He never sleeps whenever this day rolls around...without fail for years." *He knocks against the door harder...still no response.*

*Growing tired and unwilling to let this opportunity to try and mend things between his sister and father, he unlocks the door himself with his own key and swings the door open.*

*Upon entering the room the stench of liquor mixes with the vile odor of iron. From corner to corner the cobalt walls of the vault room have been painted a bright red, blossoming from the center. At the core lies the remains of what must have been a human at some point. The shape of the exposed ribcage, and the shape of the entrails strewn on the floor were undeniably human after all. Now facing the doorway as the two enter the room, was the ever gentle eyes of the woman in the painting, hanging over the mangled corpse of Aurelio Castiglioni*