- by Zucca
Doc regarded the interior of the bunker with awe.
To call it a bunker was a real misnomer... Kolo had established a top to bottom, multi-floor, expansive, top-shelf survival complex, complete with geothermal power plant, water filtration system, sleeping quarters with real beds and not just bunks, screens that functioned like windows, sounds of nature, huge storerooms filled with food and water, and even a damned swimming pool.
"I uh... I don't believe I've ever seen a setup quite like this before, Kolo." Doc said as the large, white Puma-Naja grinned, slithering along beside Doc, flipping his red hair over his hood and ears.
"Yup. I've got the place set up to accommodate 60 people comfortably and 80 if we're real friendly." Kolo said with pride as they reached the Commons Room.
"But... why? This place is amazing, but... I don't get why you'd need to live like the world's gonna end." Doc said as he scratched the back of his head. This manner of living was very different than Zucca's freespirited, skate-along optimism. This was unrestrained pragmatism.
"I'll tell you why, Doc..." Kolo said as he poured a glass of wine for both of them as the huge screen lining the Commons wall showed a peaceful, breezy field in spite of their being fifty feet below the surface of the earth. "... it's because crisis is guaranteed. The Hellgate incidents, both of them? The bombing of Riverport Harbor? The economic crash of '19 because of Magnar's plague? And all of that in just two decades, if you don't count Riverport Harbor. Meanwhile, everyone I care about has a space here if they want, and it's comfortable living during any given crisis event."
Doc sipped the wine after giving his glass a twirl. Zucca had imparted on him an appreciation for real, good wine and not the boxed crap he'd used once upon a time to get drunk quick and cheap. This was a '22 Chardonnay, aged in stainless steel, giving it a crisp, refreshing note, easily an aesthetic match for the survival shelter.
"That's a little fatalistic, don't you think?" Doc proferred, though his tone suggested he really didn't believe that and was more speaking to the everyman's take.
Kolo smiled, sipping his own wine. "Ahh, it's fatalistic to allow crisis to occur without preparation! If nothing bad ever happened in the world ever again, I still have a great place to live."
"Now that's optimism I can well and truly get behind." Doc raised his glass.
"To pragmatic optimism." Kolo cheered, and the men finished their wine while admiring the simulated breeze on the simulated wheat field.
To call it a bunker was a real misnomer... Kolo had established a top to bottom, multi-floor, expansive, top-shelf survival complex, complete with geothermal power plant, water filtration system, sleeping quarters with real beds and not just bunks, screens that functioned like windows, sounds of nature, huge storerooms filled with food and water, and even a damned swimming pool.
"I uh... I don't believe I've ever seen a setup quite like this before, Kolo." Doc said as the large, white Puma-Naja grinned, slithering along beside Doc, flipping his red hair over his hood and ears.
"Yup. I've got the place set up to accommodate 60 people comfortably and 80 if we're real friendly." Kolo said with pride as they reached the Commons Room.
"But... why? This place is amazing, but... I don't get why you'd need to live like the world's gonna end." Doc said as he scratched the back of his head. This manner of living was very different than Zucca's freespirited, skate-along optimism. This was unrestrained pragmatism.
"I'll tell you why, Doc..." Kolo said as he poured a glass of wine for both of them as the huge screen lining the Commons wall showed a peaceful, breezy field in spite of their being fifty feet below the surface of the earth. "... it's because crisis is guaranteed. The Hellgate incidents, both of them? The bombing of Riverport Harbor? The economic crash of '19 because of Magnar's plague? And all of that in just two decades, if you don't count Riverport Harbor. Meanwhile, everyone I care about has a space here if they want, and it's comfortable living during any given crisis event."
Doc sipped the wine after giving his glass a twirl. Zucca had imparted on him an appreciation for real, good wine and not the boxed crap he'd used once upon a time to get drunk quick and cheap. This was a '22 Chardonnay, aged in stainless steel, giving it a crisp, refreshing note, easily an aesthetic match for the survival shelter.
"That's a little fatalistic, don't you think?" Doc proferred, though his tone suggested he really didn't believe that and was more speaking to the everyman's take.
Kolo smiled, sipping his own wine. "Ahh, it's fatalistic to allow crisis to occur without preparation! If nothing bad ever happened in the world ever again, I still have a great place to live."
"Now that's optimism I can well and truly get behind." Doc raised his glass.
"To pragmatic optimism." Kolo cheered, and the men finished their wine while admiring the simulated breeze on the simulated wheat field.
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