AN: little switch in perspective here. hope you don't mind.
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The trip back to the revamped Legion camp is faced with dread. For Vulpes, it’s because he fears his captive will jabber on the entire time. For Arcade, it’s because he’s worried he won’t be able to find something sharp enough to impale himself on.
Slavery is notably not what Arcade had in mind when he approached Vulpes in the Atomic Wrangler, and if that’s really how it’s going to be, he’s going to try to rub some Legionary the wrong way the minute they arrive at the camp. Vulpes won’t kill him, but maybe one of the other’s will. And then Vulpes would kill that one.
Maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll cause an all-out civil war. That would be dandy.
And if worse comes to worse, he’s certain he’ll be able to find something with which he can slit his own throat. It’s not like Vulpes can watch him ALL the time.
Can he?
The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon by the time they leave Freeside. Arcade’s hands have been bound, and, humiliatingly enough, Vulpes has left the excess rope long so he can keep a hold on it. He drags him through the northern gate.
Arcade imagines that to anyone else on the streets at this ungodly hour, they must not look much different than the courier did when he came through here. He was an older man- even ten years ago, his age was apparent- and he’d been eager for Arcade to join him. He’d dragged him all over Freeside. All over the Mojave.
Ah, but no Six here now. No faithful Six to free him from the hands of Vulpes Inculta.
To be honest, Arcade hadn’t seen the Courier after Hoover Dam. He heard that he still watched out for his friends- Cass and Veronica, especially- But nothing had been done to suit the Followers’ interests.
The Courier keeps himself locked in the Lucky 38, and Arcade will be damned if he isn’t becoming another House.
Re: I Like Your Mouth (3a/?)
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The trip back to the revamped Legion camp is faced with dread. For Vulpes, it’s because he fears his captive will jabber on the entire time. For Arcade, it’s because he’s worried he won’t be able to find something sharp enough to impale himself on.
Slavery is notably not what Arcade had in mind when he approached Vulpes in the Atomic Wrangler, and if that’s really how it’s going to be, he’s going to try to rub some Legionary the wrong way the minute they arrive at the camp. Vulpes won’t kill him, but maybe one of the other’s will. And then Vulpes would kill that one.
Maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll cause an all-out civil war. That would be dandy.
And if worse comes to worse, he’s certain he’ll be able to find something with which he can slit his own throat. It’s not like Vulpes can watch him ALL the time.
Can he?
The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon by the time they leave Freeside. Arcade’s hands have been bound, and, humiliatingly enough, Vulpes has left the excess rope long so he can keep a hold on it. He drags him through the northern gate.
Arcade imagines that to anyone else on the streets at this ungodly hour, they must not look much different than the courier did when he came through here. He was an older man- even ten years ago, his age was apparent- and he’d been eager for Arcade to join him. He’d dragged him all over Freeside. All over the Mojave.
Ah, but no Six here now. No faithful Six to free him from the hands of Vulpes Inculta.
To be honest, Arcade hadn’t seen the Courier after Hoover Dam. He heard that he still watched out for his friends- Cass and Veronica, especially- But nothing had been done to suit the Followers’ interests.
The Courier keeps himself locked in the Lucky 38, and Arcade will be damned if he isn’t becoming another House.