GorillaSuit
New Member
Vinny’s eyes catch Arcade as soon as he walks into the gate of New Vegas. It’s not hard to pick the man out of the crowd, with his golden hair and tall stature. Even before he lifts his hand in a slight wave, those cool eyes land on him. Though it’s not long before his eyes land on someone else approaching the man. A prostitute, likely trying to get Arcade to accept her ‘services’.
A nearly imperceptible twitch in his eyelid is the only crack he offers in his bright and affable facade. There were only so many ways Vulpes could attempt not to use vulgar language when describing the debauchery on the Strip. Though truly, there was no sugar coating it. While he didn’t wear his disgust openly due to his persona, he held it close to his chest. A righteous flame that would soon be burning down Gomorrah like the brimstone that rained on the original Gomorrah from stories.
His steps were languid as he pushed through the crowd. He kept his steps calculated as not too seen too hurried but also not to seem too hesitant either. With a critical eye hidden behind the lenses of his sunglasses he squinted, the prostitute was familiar. One that ‘Vinny’ hired often. Diamond, was it? He never bothered remembering their terrible stage names. Though he never forgot a face.
By the time Vinny had finally pushed through the crowd that always lingered on the Strip, the whore was gone and Arcade seemed stationary. As if he was deep in thought. Vulpes didn’t particularly have time to stand in the middle of the crowded street, nor did he want to. They had a mission to complete, after all. “Hey there’s my tall, golden, handsome guy. Did you have a nice chat with Diamond?” He asks in a conversational manner. Sweeping next to Arcade he makes a gesture as if to settle his hand on his lower back, but yet again the same as last time, he did not fully commit to the touch- keeping a respectable distance only to give the illusion of closeness for everyone else who may be watching. “Now that’s done, how about we go get you all dolled up and pampered. Lord knows you deserve something nice.”
He began to walk, seeming like just another idiot with caps to spend on the Strip. On a piece of the the old world. Though there was purpose to his steps, and a set line to his jaw that was nearly invisible if not looking for it.
~***~
Sibilus wants to scream, maybe insist that Aemilia doesn’t get near Scipio. Though he doesn’t, because the sudden protest would seem strange and out of place for a frumentarius body guard. He was nothing more than means to an end, to keep Courier Six safe. Whatever ‘protective instinct’ would be misplaced while here in the seemingly not dangerous situation. Never mind the fact that Scipio was a centurion, very much outranking him. Even being one of Vulpes’ greatest assets would not be enough to save him should Sibilus stab the man in the throat like he desperately wants to.
Instead, he takes a small step back, he gives a pleasant smile but can’t muster any words as Scipio eyes him thoughtfully. The man was not young, aged lines had formed around the centurion’s eyes since the last time Sibilus had seen him. It was so jarring to see that, so jarring he couldn’t say anything at all, because monsters don’t age. Do they? They never were supposed to get grey sprinkled in their hair or lines at the corner of their eyes.
Though Sibilus supposed that he aged, if a snake could get old and frail- then maybe so could a nightmare.
Scipio raises his brows slightly, as if having come to a conclusion about Sibilus. He smirks and suddenly the wrath that the snake feels dissipates from where it had burned so fiercely a moment ago in his chest. Instead all that is left is the cool cinders as if a bucket of ice water was dumped onto his fire, fear made him take another small step back.
Scipio’s smirk only widened.
The centurion turned back to Aemilia as she spoke. Bowing his head politely, he reached for her hand. Not to shake, but to bring up to his lips. He pressed a kiss onto the back of her hand. “Aemi, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He complimented easily. To Sibilus, it came off as smarmy and insincere. Scipio continues. “I am deeply sorry that you feel that way. Though I am certain with a second look you will find more impressive men within the Legion will acknowledge the strength and skill of the one bearing Lord Caesar’s Mark. You are quite special, my dear.”
Scipio chuckles, and looks back to the mentioned frumentarius at Aemilia’s words. Sibilus has to fight not to take another step back. “Of course I don’t hold it against him. He is simply doing his duty. Isn’t that right… hmmm” he paused- and tapped his chin for show, as if thinking hard on something. “-Sibilus, was it? Yes, that was your title. Sibilus Anguis. It has been a long time since I have last seen you, I nearly didn’t recognize you.” He leans forwards slightly, in Sibilus’s space. The man isn’t too much taller than Sibilus, but it feels like he is some tremendous giant with the man leaned so close.
He knows.
He’s toying with Sibilus…
“Oh?” He asks as if he is making polite conversation. As if he isn’t trying to block out the memories of his mother’s screams and the feeling of drowning. “When did we last meet? I don’t think I have ever met you in person before, not formally.”
The centurion smiles, as if he had won some prize in Sibilus’ words. “We haven’t met formally. Though the last time I saw you was after your arena battle, three months after you earned your title- I believe. Before the coliseum was finished- if I recall correctly. You were quite the fighter, then. I hope your… assignment didn’t make you too rusty.” He chuckles again and it is grating to the frumentarius’ ears. Scipio then proceeds to nudge him playfully. He turns away from Sibilus and back to Aemilia. “In any case, you are in capable hands. If he is even half as good as he used to be, he will protect you from all manner of dangers.” He looks up then, to check the position of the sun. He makes a show of it. “Oh dear, but I have kept you two long enough. It was delightful meeting you, Aemi. I hope we meet again.” He nods politely to her, and glanced over his shoulder towards Sibilus. “Good to see you have put some meat on your bones, not quite the… runt anymore.” He winked as if a jest. He glanced towards the wooden sandals. “Try not to get into too much trouble, little snake.” The glib jab was ignored, because Sibilus couldn’t hear over the ringing in his own ears.
‘I warned you I would drown the runt if you didn’t listen. Are you ready to comply now, bitch?’ The words were in that same voice, though hissed with superiority and bloodlust.
Finally, Scipio leaves. Sibilus’ eyes cannot tear themselves away from the man’s back. Not until he disappears into the crowd.
His hands clench, as if to try and hide their trembling. The fear and panic from that memory is so intense he cannot hide it, and he retreats back to the mouth of the alley to duck behind some crates to vomit.
Sibilus hadn’t even think to check if he’d be seen in such a vulnerable position. Hadn’t had the mind to think that far ahead. Instead there was the animalistic primal fear that twisted his stomach into knots. He had seemed to forget Aemilia’s presence entirely.
A nearly imperceptible twitch in his eyelid is the only crack he offers in his bright and affable facade. There were only so many ways Vulpes could attempt not to use vulgar language when describing the debauchery on the Strip. Though truly, there was no sugar coating it. While he didn’t wear his disgust openly due to his persona, he held it close to his chest. A righteous flame that would soon be burning down Gomorrah like the brimstone that rained on the original Gomorrah from stories.
His steps were languid as he pushed through the crowd. He kept his steps calculated as not too seen too hurried but also not to seem too hesitant either. With a critical eye hidden behind the lenses of his sunglasses he squinted, the prostitute was familiar. One that ‘Vinny’ hired often. Diamond, was it? He never bothered remembering their terrible stage names. Though he never forgot a face.
By the time Vinny had finally pushed through the crowd that always lingered on the Strip, the whore was gone and Arcade seemed stationary. As if he was deep in thought. Vulpes didn’t particularly have time to stand in the middle of the crowded street, nor did he want to. They had a mission to complete, after all. “Hey there’s my tall, golden, handsome guy. Did you have a nice chat with Diamond?” He asks in a conversational manner. Sweeping next to Arcade he makes a gesture as if to settle his hand on his lower back, but yet again the same as last time, he did not fully commit to the touch- keeping a respectable distance only to give the illusion of closeness for everyone else who may be watching. “Now that’s done, how about we go get you all dolled up and pampered. Lord knows you deserve something nice.”
He began to walk, seeming like just another idiot with caps to spend on the Strip. On a piece of the the old world. Though there was purpose to his steps, and a set line to his jaw that was nearly invisible if not looking for it.
~***~
Sibilus wants to scream, maybe insist that Aemilia doesn’t get near Scipio. Though he doesn’t, because the sudden protest would seem strange and out of place for a frumentarius body guard. He was nothing more than means to an end, to keep Courier Six safe. Whatever ‘protective instinct’ would be misplaced while here in the seemingly not dangerous situation. Never mind the fact that Scipio was a centurion, very much outranking him. Even being one of Vulpes’ greatest assets would not be enough to save him should Sibilus stab the man in the throat like he desperately wants to.
Instead, he takes a small step back, he gives a pleasant smile but can’t muster any words as Scipio eyes him thoughtfully. The man was not young, aged lines had formed around the centurion’s eyes since the last time Sibilus had seen him. It was so jarring to see that, so jarring he couldn’t say anything at all, because monsters don’t age. Do they? They never were supposed to get grey sprinkled in their hair or lines at the corner of their eyes.
Though Sibilus supposed that he aged, if a snake could get old and frail- then maybe so could a nightmare.
Scipio raises his brows slightly, as if having come to a conclusion about Sibilus. He smirks and suddenly the wrath that the snake feels dissipates from where it had burned so fiercely a moment ago in his chest. Instead all that is left is the cool cinders as if a bucket of ice water was dumped onto his fire, fear made him take another small step back.
Scipio’s smirk only widened.
The centurion turned back to Aemilia as she spoke. Bowing his head politely, he reached for her hand. Not to shake, but to bring up to his lips. He pressed a kiss onto the back of her hand. “Aemi, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He complimented easily. To Sibilus, it came off as smarmy and insincere. Scipio continues. “I am deeply sorry that you feel that way. Though I am certain with a second look you will find more impressive men within the Legion will acknowledge the strength and skill of the one bearing Lord Caesar’s Mark. You are quite special, my dear.”
Scipio chuckles, and looks back to the mentioned frumentarius at Aemilia’s words. Sibilus has to fight not to take another step back. “Of course I don’t hold it against him. He is simply doing his duty. Isn’t that right… hmmm” he paused- and tapped his chin for show, as if thinking hard on something. “-Sibilus, was it? Yes, that was your title. Sibilus Anguis. It has been a long time since I have last seen you, I nearly didn’t recognize you.” He leans forwards slightly, in Sibilus’s space. The man isn’t too much taller than Sibilus, but it feels like he is some tremendous giant with the man leaned so close.
He knows.
He’s toying with Sibilus…
“Oh?” He asks as if he is making polite conversation. As if he isn’t trying to block out the memories of his mother’s screams and the feeling of drowning. “When did we last meet? I don’t think I have ever met you in person before, not formally.”
The centurion smiles, as if he had won some prize in Sibilus’ words. “We haven’t met formally. Though the last time I saw you was after your arena battle, three months after you earned your title- I believe. Before the coliseum was finished- if I recall correctly. You were quite the fighter, then. I hope your… assignment didn’t make you too rusty.” He chuckles again and it is grating to the frumentarius’ ears. Scipio then proceeds to nudge him playfully. He turns away from Sibilus and back to Aemilia. “In any case, you are in capable hands. If he is even half as good as he used to be, he will protect you from all manner of dangers.” He looks up then, to check the position of the sun. He makes a show of it. “Oh dear, but I have kept you two long enough. It was delightful meeting you, Aemi. I hope we meet again.” He nods politely to her, and glanced over his shoulder towards Sibilus. “Good to see you have put some meat on your bones, not quite the… runt anymore.” He winked as if a jest. He glanced towards the wooden sandals. “Try not to get into too much trouble, little snake.” The glib jab was ignored, because Sibilus couldn’t hear over the ringing in his own ears.
‘I warned you I would drown the runt if you didn’t listen. Are you ready to comply now, bitch?’ The words were in that same voice, though hissed with superiority and bloodlust.
Finally, Scipio leaves. Sibilus’ eyes cannot tear themselves away from the man’s back. Not until he disappears into the crowd.
His hands clench, as if to try and hide their trembling. The fear and panic from that memory is so intense he cannot hide it, and he retreats back to the mouth of the alley to duck behind some crates to vomit.
Sibilus hadn’t even think to check if he’d be seen in such a vulnerable position. Hadn’t had the mind to think that far ahead. Instead there was the animalistic primal fear that twisted his stomach into knots. He had seemed to forget Aemilia’s presence entirely.
