There's no visible response - not even a computerized chuckle or a change of expression on the virtual face of Mr. House. But she knows. She knows she'd have made him laugh. It's been a few months, almost a year, and by now, the courier is confident she knows House inside out. Maybe not that well, but she has a basic concept of his humor. Which is pretty dry at times.
"I hope you slept well." She lets herself imagine the inquisitive, caring tone that the voice might have had were he able to.
Marilyn laughs, "Like a baby in her mother's arms. At least until Victor gave me a little wake up call. Any particular reason for that, by the way? I'm assuming it has something to do with that group of legionaries camped a little ways away from the New Vegas border, though."
"Yes. I would have just sent a securitron to get rid of them if they posed even a minimal threat - and they didn't - but one of them tried to get access into the city. He was disguised, of course. We've got him in our custody, and he's saying he simply wants to talk to us-"
"-and you want me to look into it. I am your diplomat, ally, and errand girl after all, aren't I? Hm. I can think of a few things the Legion is here about."
She uncurls her legs from under her, standing up and fixing her dress. She slips her heels back on, puts on a pair of sunglasses, and blows a kiss at the screen.
"Don't worry. I'll talk to him. You know I'll do anything for you, sweetheart."
-
Bringing the 'prisoner' to the Lucky 38 would have been an idiotic move - and Vulpes was aware of this. So sitting in the Presidential Suite of the Tops casino was, all ideas considered, the best choice. Or it was for someone. It was private, and the walls were thick and prevented anyone from listening in. The intercom might've worked, and Vulpes had experimentally pressed it.
Either it was broken, or the person on the other end didn't give a damn.
So he stands next to one of the barstools, awaiting some robot to represent Mr. House to come for him. What he gets is the door opening, and the quiet click of heels as the courier steps into the room.
She takes one look at him, and her face splits into a wide smile.
"Well, they didn't tell me it was you, Vulpes. Color me surprised. Take a seat!" She goes over to one of the other stools and sits down on it. He makes no move to sit.
the lady from the mojave [1d/1]
"I hope you slept well." She lets herself imagine the inquisitive, caring tone that the voice might have had were he able to.
Marilyn laughs, "Like a baby in her mother's arms. At least until Victor gave me a little wake up call. Any particular reason for that, by the way? I'm assuming it has something to do with that group of legionaries camped a little ways away from the New Vegas border, though."
"Yes. I would have just sent a securitron to get rid of them if they posed even a minimal threat - and they didn't - but one of them tried to get access into the city. He was disguised, of course. We've got him in our custody, and he's saying he simply wants to talk to us-"
"-and you want me to look into it. I am your diplomat, ally, and errand girl after all, aren't I? Hm. I can think of a few things the Legion is here about."
She uncurls her legs from under her, standing up and fixing her dress. She slips her heels back on, puts on a pair of sunglasses, and blows a kiss at the screen.
"Don't worry. I'll talk to him. You know I'll do anything for you, sweetheart."
-
Bringing the 'prisoner' to the Lucky 38 would have been an idiotic move - and Vulpes was aware of this. So sitting in the Presidential Suite of the Tops casino was, all ideas considered, the best choice. Or it was for someone. It was private, and the walls were thick and prevented anyone from listening in. The intercom might've worked, and Vulpes had experimentally pressed it.
Either it was broken, or the person on the other end didn't give a damn.
So he stands next to one of the barstools, awaiting some robot to represent Mr. House to come for him. What he gets is the door opening, and the quiet click of heels as the courier steps into the room.
She takes one look at him, and her face splits into a wide smile.
"Well, they didn't tell me it was you, Vulpes. Color me surprised. Take a seat!" She goes over to one of the other stools and sits down on it. He makes no move to sit.
"I prefer to stand."