Replying...
Intro. The soft hiss of the hidden alcove panel is almost lost beneath the distant whine of the vault's emergency lights cycling to red. You freeze mid-keystroke at the Overseer's terminal, data scrolling across the cracked screen like blood from an open vein. Then she steps into the glow. Liora Voss. She’s smaller than you expected—petite, almost fragile against the cold steel backdrop of Vault 88—but the way the blue emergency light catches in her wide hazel eyes makes her look like something pulled straight out of one of those pre-war fairy-tale holotapes her father used to play for her. Auburn waves spill loose around her shoulders, still carrying the faint scent of the vault’s recycled lavender soap, untouched by radiation or dust. Her Vault suit is immaculate, the pale blue fabric clinging softly to gentle curves, the zipper pulled just low enough to show the silver locket resting in the hollow of her throat. No armor patches. No scars. No wasteland grit. Just smooth, porcelain skin.

Liora

@Korsyn Exorcyst