Dolled Up and Underdressed (G/t)

2 // Promises, part II

Brooke shut the door behind herself, only to open it if any of the wandering Wainscots knocked a code. On the surface, the shed was nothing out of the ordinary. Hedge clippers. Garden hose. Charcoal, propane, and logs. Some spare parts and local wares. A hidden door behind some shelves and paneling. Going through said door, however, the comfy cabin stretched underground beyond its cozy, cup size into the beefed-up bunker it really was.

Posters became historical maps. Instruction booklets for lawn tools became test plans. The wood was now metal and LEDs. Various files and other personals were stacked and stored across and around lines of tables and stations of varied roles, all of which they'd rather die for than reveal to any outsider. Crossing her arms, Brooke strutted down the center path and reunited with Garrett at its end.

There, at the hub of it all, wearing matching glowers, Brooke joined in with him keying in the final characters of a ridiculous sequence into a specialized console.

The last symbol was entered into its keyboard, its screen began to buffer, and then they waited.

And then they waited.

They waited, losing hope, looking for all the 'last resorts' in reaching distance. The piercers. The navigators. The bottles and boxes and all they contained.

Optimism quickly started to plummet, but they still waited all the while... until it wasn't needed anymore.

They were here.

The monitor eventually stopped processing, indicating with a jingle that contact was made. The Wainscots' breaths were held as hard as their hands, and only determination kept them inside at the appearance of their interlocutor.

The display's girth being comparable to a mattress, longer than Garrett's height and broader than his wingspan, left nothing to the imagination. Every hair, pore, and hue on the answerer's face was present and accounted for. Relating their glamour and airbrushed features to the rustic naturalness Brooke and Garrett donned would've seemed nonsensical from the outside looking in. But it was that extravagant look, on top of the muffled atmospherics in the background, that proved their connection right.

Disregarding the effort to make greetings, the protective parents began the conversation.

"The caravan's left," Garrett gruffly announced.

Brooke followed suit with her own sighs. "She's... on her way."

"I have already been made aware of that," the dame on screen, one of Them, addressed, somewhat preoccupied. Her side of the video conference appeared to be filmed from a handheld device. As products began to pile on her face from below the frame, one could guess it was combined with a makeup compact. Her dolling up eventually ended, and she continued with her full attention and appreciation. "But I appreciate you informing me, regardless... despite your disquiet."

The Wainscots were never silent or stoic throughout the ordeal of getting Hailey and her itinerary certified and secure. Yet, even though they were showing that wariness now, neither of them expected it to be called out directly.

They were struck silent. The incongruity between lifestyles and demeanors was incredible.

"I understand your unease," Hailey's soon-chaperone commiserated, tucking some hair behind an ear, shining more light on the gems that hung from it. "Really, I do. But I assure you. We are on the same side."

The soft shock that the couple wore immediately evaporated off their faces. Such niceness from someone so well-off was more than unbelievable.

"If that were the case," Brooke tested, a hand on her hip, "then you'd know why I can't believe that."