the story in which Alex Seattle Geer is right for hating enclosed spaces,

[doubletap]

and Neil Park is blamed for his knowledge of vaults.

---

Terminal Entries:

1st Floor, Vault Entry-Room Computer:
- Data Entry 1: Year 20XX, Month XX; There's no escape.
- Holotape Entry 1: Y#4@ SDhig^8705 H98 [data corrupted]; This is hell and I want out of it.

1st Floor, Cafeteria Luncheon:
- Holotape Entry 2: Private Recording; I've had better?

1st Floor, Cafeteria Supply Room:
- Inventory List: Inventory List; A list of food....
- Data Entry 2: Shift Notes; Maybe I should tear the walls down.

1st Floor, Broken Cave:
- Data Entry 3: Preparations; Everything's fine.
- Data Entry 4: Near the End; I'll tell you the truth, but I won't give up my soul.
- Data Entry 5: Finally, the End is at Hand.; This is far enough.

1st Floor, Office:
- Data Entry 6: Vault-Wide Public Service Announcement; Get back to work everyone.
- Data Entry 7: Locked Administrative Reply; You're reaching for straws.

1st Floor, Administrative Secretary's Office:
- Data Entry 8: Drama Hoes; It is sort of funny that people aren't able to lie, though.
- Holotape Entry 3: Bill Self-Log; Byron's access still works everywhere.

Comments

[doubletap]

[ Alex stops, eyebrow twitching in an emotion too convoluted between simple surprise and amused as all hell. He licks his lips, opens his mouth, shuts it, then tries again. ]

...Baby. You're rambling about food. Horrible, pre-processed food that you are apparently in love with. You okay there?

[goodfight]

[Neil stops in his tracks, as though suddenly weighed down by the gravity of Alex's observation.]

...Yeah? I just...really like food?

[It strikes him, then. The tone echoes the man on the holodisk, incredulous at his answer. The similarity confuses (and flusters) Neil, and he wordlessly goes to open the door.]