!!SPOILERS!! Detailed Background

Early Life

Meredith Grayfield was born on August 14, 2456 in the rugged, post-nuclear wasteland of southern Maine, a frigid frontier scarred by a war over 500 years past. The younger child of Sarah and Mitch Grayfield, she grew up with her older brother David in the Misty Stepp, a ramshackle pub her parents ran, a flickering beacon for contractors—hardened survivors like Trigger, Joker, and Niner. Blonde-haired and blue-eyed like her mom, Meredith was a restless spark, eavesdropping on gritty tales while strumming chords with Mitch, a gruff hunter who taught her music, and stirring pots with Sarah, a warm cook and singer. Life was rough but tight—school was a distant chore, but the pub’s chaos fueled her curiosity and pluck in a world of ruin.

The Fall (Age 14-17)

Her world cracked at 14 when she saw Trigger kill a man, igniting a fascination with contractors that turned lethal by 16. Her knack for spinning stories—once a harmless quirk—drew Trigger’s gaze, and after he killed for a client named Ivory Hollicrest, he gagged her with threats, her earlier witness silenced. At 17, her reckless push for payback backfired—Trigger butchered her family.. Broken and bound, she fled Maine in the family car, guitar her only tether, **** into Trigger’s brutal orbit where “Scarlet” was born—a name from a kitchen mishap her mom called “Scarlet Soup,” now a jagged mask for a girl unmade.

Contractor Years (Age 17-27)

Scarlet rose from the ashes, a mercenary carved by trauma in 2483’s desolate sprawl. Tied to the Automatic Rifle Syndicate—figures like Warren, Alexandra, Amara, Kenji drifting through—she sharpened combat skills (guns from Mitch, survival from necessity) and a cruel edge, her knife-play an “ode to her mother” veiling a deeper wound. By 27, she’s a husk—hollow-eyed in a bar, her youth ground down by a decade of guilt. She blames herself for her family’s end—her tales lured Trigger’s wrath—and it festers unspoken, aging her beyond her years in a world where nuclear scars still smolder.

Final Moment(s):

[LETTER PATH]: By 2483’s end, Meredith’s a wisp of her former fire—body battered, skin tinged green from wounds that won’t heal, worn ragged in a wasteland over 500 years past its breaking. She’d been your shadow for years, Warren, a contractor whose edges softened with kids and tunes, her blonde hair dulled under dye, blue eyes flickering with a past she rarely cracked open. In those final days, she pushed through snow and blood, saving 30 kids from a trafficker’s grip, her last stand beside you. Shot twice, once in a bunker brawl and again in a sudden forest clash, she crumpled—pale and fading, her real name, Meredith, spilling out as she lay on a ranger cabin table. She spoke of summer nights and a pub long gone, her voice frail but warm, tying her to a Maine she’d lost. Her dream carried her off—a vision of peace, reuniting with family she’d mourned in silence, leaving you with a gentle shove toward a future she saw with Flora. Often she dies in this world’s many twists, but here, in this canon thread, her end was a quiet release, her youth reborn beyond the scars. Her final regret gnawed at her—not telling you her whole story, the guilt of a family’s fall she sparked but never voiced, a weight she took to the grave. For those who trace her Maine roots, it’s a circle closed: the pub kid rests, absolved. For you, her bond—forged in years and blood—left a duty to chase that life she glimpsed, her **** a spark reshaping your path in a jagged, nuclear-bitten sprawl.