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Turn Wounds into Wisdom 2a/?
Date: 2014-08-24 08:04 pm (UTC)There was maize beer and a spirit of distilled honey mesquite and cactus fruit. Fruit juices and some kind of herbal tea that Vincent was eyeing especially suspicious, as the people drinking this had seemed equally inebriated as the ones consuming alcohol.
The tables bent under the loads of fruit and vegetables, both gathered and grown; under maize bread, cooked and roasted meat of bighorner, brahmin, mole rat, gecko and crow, the latter two also having supplied eggs for some other dishes.
There was music too, there was singing, and you could hear drums, reed flutes, dried gourds filled with sand or pebbles, and here and there a single pre-war instrument, fitting more or less well into the sounds of the earthen tribal sounds. And the people sang and danced long into the small hours of the night.
The courier had sent out invitations to all those who had helped her in winning the battle of Hoover Dam, and now, during the night of the anniversary, there was a rare sight to behold:
Members of all tribes united, White Gloves, Chairmen, Omertas, side by side with the Followers of the Apocalypse, the two surviving members of the Enclave Remnants and a delegation from the Boomers. The Brotherhood of Steel was absent albeit they had sent their regards, the same with the mutants from Jakobstown. While Tara had tried her best to establish friendship and cooperation with the latter two factions, all she so far had achieved was careful neutrality.
For Vincent, the day had been anything but happy. The celebration proper had started around noontime and Tara had spent the whole day amidst the crowds, talking, laughing, celebrating; letting men and women shake and kiss her hands, sharing food and drink with countless people, especially the former slaves, and had spent hours mingling with groups of dancers.
Vincent in turn had watched her every move, and every move of everyone around her, and her carelessness had almost driven him insane. And even although he knew she was aware of a possible threat, she acted as if there was nothing she would ever have to fear, and that was even worse to him.
Of course, none of the happy celebrators would do anything to harm her; he knew that well, but the possibilities of spies never left his mind. The NCR still hadn’t sent word, and he knew that back in Flagstaff, Tiberius, the heir of Caesar was still very much alive. He had told Tara as much, months ago in fact, but she was of the opinion that even with Caesar’s heir, the Legion wasn’t a force to be reckoned with, not anymore. He hadn’t completely agreed with her, but Tara had told him they had more pressing matters to deal with than a leader of a beaten army bearing a grudge. Whatever was left of the Legion, she had said, had nothing to oppose her army of robots, and most likely, she was right. But any frumentarius worth his salt would have had ample opportunity to kill her easily during that celebration, and by the time Tara finally retired back into the Lucky38, shortly before daybreak, Vincent was so tense that he felt as if his body was made of lead.
The utter relief he felt at having made it back into the safety of her home did little to ease his discomfort.
“I’m having a bath first”, Tara said to Vincent as they had entered the suite. “You don’t have to stay up and wait for me.”
Vincent gave her a grateful nod and his head had hardly touched the pillow when he drifted off into oblivion, finally knowing her to be safe.
x-x-x-x-x-x
Turn Wounds into Wisdom 2b/?
Date: 2014-08-24 08:05 pm (UTC)With a faint smile, Vincent remembered how she had opened the celebration. She had looked so grand, her long dark hair flowing down her back, wearing those official garments that made her look nothing short of royal. Yet as much a queen as she looked, Vincent thought a queen should not mingle that much, even if the celebration was solely in her honour. She should preside over the celebration, acknowledge the peoples’ happiness and accept their cheers and hails. A queen should not dance revelry and definitely not be in the middle of a knees-up with her subjects. Yet he knew that this was one thing he and Tara would never be able to agree upon.
He got up, dressed, and then discovered that everything in the kitchen was still exactly as the cleaners had left it the morning before. She hadn’t brewed herself a coffee, and that made Vincent frown. It wasn’t like Tara at all to start the day without at least two cups of the bitter brew.
She wasn’t anywhere in the suite, and as it turned out, she was nowhere else in the Lucky38, not in the cocktail lounge nor in the penthouse suite. He even checked the maintenance levels, to no avail.
He went down to the casino level, and when he couldn’t find her there, back up into the suite, by now with a feeling of irritation bordering on mild anger. Why would she leave him asleep like that? How could she go without him, leaving him in bed like an invalid? He needed to be at her side, for her sake as much as his own. Already he could feel the burning of shame, that he had been peacefully asleep while she had been up and about and had left the casino with him being completely oblivious.
With an angry frown he re-entered the suite and the bedroom, only to finally realize that her pillow was showing no dent, no sign that she had ever been to bed, and her garments were neatly draped across a chair. Vincent slowly crossed his arms and realised that during the last months, he had grown far too soft, comfortable and careless if he allowed himself to sleep like that, remaining completely oblivious of Tara changing her wardrobe and leaving the suite. He should have noticed. The shame began to burn as hot as the anger at himself by now.
But why had she gone in the first place, and without him? With a sigh Vincent ran a hand down his face, adjusted his eye patch, and then went into the kitchen where he had a glass of water and a handful of pinyon nuts. Then he armed himself and made his way downstairs again to look for her. If she was somewhere in Vegas then his failure as her protector and guard would already be apparent, so him running around the streets looking for her couldn’t make it any worse. Still, he did not want to cause a stir, so he kept his search as inconspicuous as he could, keeping a calm face and a busy appearance as to give the impression he was running some errands.
She wasn’t in any of the casinos, and enquiring discreetly in the Fort revealed that the Followers had neither seen nor heard of her coming to Freeside. It was just as Vincent was about to leave the Fort when outside the gates he heard the sounds of people gathering and shouting; then a woman screamed. Arcade shoved himself past Vincent to see what it all was about, but at that moment two men carried a body through the gate. Vincent stood aside, and felt a strange, cold sense of foreboding when he recognised the dead man: Cobra, the leader of the former Powder Gangers. And with that sensation came another one: What if Cobra’s sudden, violent death was somehow connected to Tara’s disappearance?
Turn Wounds into Wisdom 2c/?
Date: 2014-08-24 08:06 pm (UTC)There was a large blotch of blood in the sand where Cobra’s body had been lying, and kneeling down, Vincent could see no traces of kicked-up dust or scrapes of fingers that would have indicated death throes, so he had died very quickly. Since there had been several people running around the spot after finding the body any footprints that could have given him a lead were long gone, but he still trained his eyes on the ground in the hopes of finding anything; only what, he couldn’t say.
His patience was rewarded when after a few minutes, he saw, a few feet away from the place where Cobra had died and downward on the slope of the fortification, another set of tracks.
Several pairs of feet having trampled down dried grass.
Something large and heavy being dragged along.
A few drops of dried blood and beside them a stone, about the size of a fist, with a trace of blood on it.
More footsteps, leading away from the city, fainter already as they moved out of the lee of the fortification.
Vincent knew he need not follow them, once out in the open desert they would long since have disappeared, covered by the relentless desert wind and the dust it carried.
And then something else caught his eye: the sheen of something metallic in the dust a few steps away.
He knelt down and wiped his fingers across it, and at the same moment, his heart froze in his chest.
Before him in the dust, attached to a torn leather string and mounted in its frame of copper wire, was the Platinum Chip.
x-x-x-x-x-x
Re: Turn Wounds into Wisdom 2c/?
Date: 2014-08-24 09:24 pm (UTC)I knew as soon as she said "don't wait up" that some shit was going down, but that last bit still killed me. I can see why a larger sock would be in order, I'd seriously like to do some bludgeoning right about now.
Who's taken her?
Why'd she leave the suite by herself in the first place? Like did someone threaten her (and if so what would they even use as a threat) or just ask her? Or was she just trying to let Vince sleep in?
Things are definitely starting to get even more interesting. This cliffhanger might be the death of me, but worry not, I'll bring myself back to life so I can read the next chapter.
~BA!Anon
Re: Turn Wounds into Wisdom 2c/?
Date: 2014-08-26 12:35 am (UTC)