A Fallout NV RP blog for Vulpes Inculta, right hand man of Caesar.
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((It’s been a great day for Vulpes. Branding people, crushing people’s dreams, making profligate flow charts.
He can go to bed a happy man.))
Well, you couldn’t get everything in life, and even though his music still eluded him at least he would be getting some better living conditions. Serving the Legion though. The words made him cringe a little, but anything for a good cause. At least a fixed Auto-Doc would be helping someone along for a few years more or so. “A stable and clean wasteland? Well, that does sound like a good thing to do and if my reward is some better conditions I would be more than happy to submit my services to you…”
Wow, that sounded weird. Maybe if he had known this Vulpes for what he really was he would have reconsidered the quality of his current situation. But luckily for him he didn’t. This man seemed like a swell guy, if a little stern. “So uhm, when do I get out of here and what exactly is wrong with the Auto-Doc?”
"You will find your views of the Legion changed when you spend a few months in our great society." His words were an oath; Vulpes was loyal to the Bull to a fault, and believed that its cause was righteous, always righteous. "If you prove that you are loyal, then you shall be granted better tools to do better work. That is what is fair."
Vulpes laughed, the noise grating and cruel. “Leave? You are a slave. You will serve us until you cannot any longer. As for the Auto-doc, the scanning module is broken, I believe. There are other small issues, but the diagnostic part is the most important.”
Sam was impressed Vulpes didn’t immediately pass out from shock. Sure, a high ranking member of the Legion had to be tough, but the frumentarii wasn’t exactly a hulking mass of muscle. He stepped off the springs, shoving the trap away with his boot as he gingerly lowered the man’s leg, the jaws snapping eagerly at the tip of his foot as it slid across the dirt.
"Hard part’s over," he said, positioning his gear. Sam really didn’t want to effectively disarm, especially when his destination was now a Legion camp, but there was no way he could keep his weapon slung as he preferred without it banging into either of their legs as they shuffled across the desert. "Let’s see if we can’t get you upright…"
After some careful trial and error, Sam managed to get Vulpes’ arm slung over his shoulders and the man upright, taking a surprising amount of care to prevent further injury.
"If I start veering off course, just let me know, alright? Best you try and stay awake, for both our sakes."
By the time Sam helped him upright, Vulpes was panting. A thin sheen of sweat coated his brow and spread into his hair; he was exhausted and the pain reverberated in his limp leg with each small movement. There are worse wounds to receive, thought Vulpes. Yeah, right. If the bone did not heal properly he would be crippled. Lame. A horse to be put down, a beast whose legs had gotten tangled under the chariot’s wheels.
“The Legion camp is a few miles from here. We will have to go slow, so it will be a long walk. If you require lodgings for the night, then you will be allowed to sleep there. Now walk. We are facing the right direction.” He squinted in the sunlight and pointed at something in the distance. “Do you see where that bluff in the distance dips down? Walks towards that, always.”
Tell them all the truth, but no secret lies this time.
Once upon a world way before your loss.
So, look out, I fear that they follow near.
And in the courthouse Judge Kevin sentenced rope to neck.
They don’t hear the serpent that burns your ear…
Baby look out!
Leaving well enough alone is no choice of yours to make.
Guilty says the proof, this town has no room for you.
So, look out, I fear that they follow near.
For from the gallows you’ll swing for all the kids to see.
They don’t hear the serpent that burns your ear,
Or the coward that sits alone in your head with it…
Baby look out!
Cause I’m so sorry that you could ever
I’m so sorry for you, you’ll never love again.
Ada nodded and lead him to a table in the back, sitting on the side of the table. The arrangement of the tables prevented her from seeing the whole room, but she put up a valient fight on that front. She hated having her back to the room.
She dutifully put in her chips on the next deal, only five this time, trying to get a feel for the game. Her eyes flickered to Richard Fox again, almost involuntarily. That nagging sensation of knowing him just wouldn’t be quieted…
He followed her, though his eyes and attention darted all around the room. He met the gaze of one of the disguised Frumentarius dealers, saw the man’s eyes flicker in recognition and fall back to the table. When they reached the table he pulled a handful of chips from his pocket and rattled them around in the cage of his fingers before sitting and placing six on the table.
As they sat, a deep, quiet hum rose up from his throat. It was a soldier’s song, one known especially by the Frumentarii. It talked of blood and lost lovers and women left behind on long marches; it was a song for the woman by his side, meant only for her ears.
A shaking little breath escaped her at the tiniest kiss. That hurt. That hurt more than the branding itself. It was unexpected. The aloe soothed what his lips had stirred up and Olivia made an appreciative noise.
She gave a little huff, trying to compose herself. Olivia watched him, brows furrowed as color creeped back into her cheeks. “Does this make you happy?”
"It makes me happy that you will be safe," he lied, letting go of her hand. Vulpes placed the bandages in his little satchel—he would wrap her wrist up later, when the pain wasn’t so fresh—and bent down to pick up the cooling rod. "Come. We will return to my tent."
And with that he led her away, back into her cage, and deeper into the life of the Legion—further down the fox burrow.
I just want everyone to know that Liv’s branding has been the plan for MONTHS and now it’s finally happened and I’m so happy and I’d like to thank the academy
Swiftly he pulled the rod from the fire and pressed the tip to her wrist, holding it there for a count of three and then tossing the metal to the sand to cool. “There.” On her wrist, a red V was stamped.
It didn’t hurt as much as she had anticipated. Not that it didn’t hurt at all. Drawing her wrist close to her, she traced the edge of the burn without really touching it. Crap.
This was most definitely fairly permanent, wasn’t it?
In a cruelly affectionate gesture, he brought her wrist to his smirking mouth and very gently brushed his lips against the new V. Then he reached for the aloe and dabbed a bit on the tips of his fingers, very gently rubbing it over her entire wrist (maybe it would help her tattered skin, too).