Over the course of several brutal, challenging years it was possible to travel the breadth of the post-apocalyptic American wasteland, though it wouldn't take quite so long if it wasn't for the inevitable change in plans. Nothing in the wasteland ever worked out as anyone had planned. Angelina Qeats had learned this the hard way many times before and after leaving the Capital Wasteland. She had fled a life of violence and evil, of apathy and amorality, and left behind a crumbling city that was ready to destroy itself but Angelina had never found another place to stay for all too long. From the murky swamps of Maryland to the gargantuan rusted out shells of factories of Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan and Indiana, continuing through Illinois, Missouri, Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming, Utah and finally Nevada. It had been a long, hard road, but Angelina wasn't soft, she didn't crumble under pressure but rather fought back just as fiercely as the wasteland attacked her. It was that same ferocity combined with her skill and experience as a mercenary that had allowed Angelina to survive wherever she had chosen to stay, wandering across the devastated country unsure of where exactly she was going but continuing on anyway.
Even as she made her way down through the barren northern desert sitting above New Vegas Angelina didn't fold. An entirely new environment and yet another she had adapted to, the intense heat and thirst quickly becoming just another minor obstacle to over come on her journey and so Angelina continued marching on south through the Mojave, a long trip to be sure, but one she could make. Taking a sip from a canteen she had picked up some time ago upon deciding to venture into the Mojave Angelina enjoyed the cool water for as long as it lasted before screwing the cap back on and sticking her canteen back where it had been. Adjusting the simple worn out, sun bleached baseball cap she had also picked up upon heading for the Mojave Angelina peered out into the distance, scanning the horizon; there was still little more than empty desert broken up by random plants and rocks dotting the land scape but nothing Angelina could readily identify as a threat. The quieter things remained the better Angelina decided, adjusting the rifle slung over her shoulder next to her pack, she hadn't traveled across an entire nation just to fight off random creatures and bandits in another state. In the end Angelina didn't know why exactly she had come to the Mojave but it had felt right, as had all the other places she had gone to, and while unsure how long she would end up staying she had taken to the trails and never looked back.
Whatever came of Angelina's journey to the Mojave it was sure to be just as interesting as any of her other adventures since fleeing the Capital Wasteland, after all Angelina knew there was no such thing as a dull day in the wasteland and could only imagine the sorts of thing she would find in the Mojave. She had certainlyl seen some things across the country that were unique to their areas, things Angelina would have never seen inside the Capital Wasteland, though whether or not going out and seeing the world as it now was likely wasn't as pleasant as it once had been centuries ago. It was still an oddly enlightening experience for Angelina and it certainly curbed her pessimistic habits if only slightly. Outside of DC where she had lived the majority of her life there were all sorts of equally marvelous and horrendous things, but DC had largely been filled with the horrendous, hopeless, soul crushingly brutal things to be found in the wasteland. Angelina couldn't help but hope, even if it was just a little, that the Mojave would be more of the glorious and less of the horrid but she also couldn't help but remind herself just how unlikely that was.
Not knowing or caring what came of her journey Angelina kept going, scanning the dusty horizon ahead of her every so often as she drew closer and closer to New Vegas and the outlying communities. About all Angelina could be sure of at all was that, looking out at the towering casinos in the distance, New Vegas would be an entirely unique experience. She could only imagine what it looked like when seen at night.
"Howdy there, Vegas." Angelina smirked, adjusting her rifle again, "Think we're gonna be good friends."
As Angelina drew closer to the north fringes of Vegas she had spotted what she had been told was a small ghetto community, one struggling to get by but filled with more decent, well meaning people than one would expect. Known as the North Vegas Ruins Angelina would soon be calling it home. Broke and with little in the way of supplies Angelina had taken to living off the land and gathering only the essentials, an emergency supply essentially, and moving with as little as possible; never knowing when she would be moving from any given home she stumbled across in her journey, also inspired by eventually starting to dislike the idea of piling up material possessions. It had suddenly seemed entirely useless to her, thus living in the ghetto was no big deal - and she certainly didn't feel as if she was in danger, havng seen more than her share of violence and debauchery in the wasteland. Nothing much worried Angelina and she hadn't been honestly scared in a long time, not even remembering the last time such a thing had happened and almost forgetting what it felt like to be truly frightened.
Pushing open an old creaking door at a cramped entrance built out of various old signs in various states of disrepair piled around the area also acting as barriers to prevent unwanted visitors Angelina stepped into the ruins of north Vegas and quickly scanned her surroundings. The crumbling buildings and dirty looking residents were exactly what she'd expected, what Angelina hadn't exactly expected was when a middle aged looking man with graying hair spotted her with a curious look on his face and started to approach, carefully and sure to make it clear he was no threat.
"Hey there." The man nodded as he approached Angelina, stopping a couple feet short of her, "Welcome to North Vegas - or what's left of it."
"Thanks... don't worry, I wasn't exactly expecting the big city lights of the Strip."
"Well then you're not gonna be too disappointed." The man smirked, chuckling and shaking his head slightly, "Anyway, we don't exactly work like no one else here. If you're looking to stay you'll just have to find a place and post up there."
"Works for me." Angelina nodded, "Just a free for all then?"
"Generally," The man confirmed with a short nod, "It's not too bad - you get some punks every now and then, but the community pulls together to take care of them for the most part. We like it nice and calm."
"No need to add to the misery, I suppose." Angelina mused as she quickly looked around before returning her gaze to the man before her, "Thanks..."
"Mattew." The man smiled, holding out his hand.
"Angelina." She reached out and shook his hand.
Angelina stepped outside of what could now be called her home in the North Vegas Ruins and squinted in the bright late morning light before she fit her baseball cap snugly over her closely shaved head, barely any hair actually present, just enough t be visible and not appear bald. She had shaved it long ago and never looked back, not missing her hair at all and even finding she looked better without it and it had always bothered her while working if it was any longer- after less than a month as a mercenary in the Capital Wasteland Angelina had lopped it all off never to be seen again. Of course, she mused as she stepped further out into the ghetto, if she had let it grow out now her graying hair would show even more.
Pushing that thought off to the side and mulling over something more important as she headed down the cracked and uneven street Angelina started thinking about what she was going to do with herself in New Vegas. She had't thought much about anything she had done before, simply slipping into the life of a mercenary and never questioning it. Now Angelina couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if she changed that habit, having continued it in a sense during her journey to the Mojave; Angelina had largely found work with caravans and the like wherever she settled down and even once she started moving from one temporary home to another she had preferred to stick with caravans, they usuallly paid well enough and she only worked with ones heading in the same direction as her allowing her to make money to spend wherever she ended up. While it was mercenary work it wasn't at all like a lot of what Angelina had done before which she considered long behind her, having abandoned it almost entirely since The Pitt, though she hadn't done much work there either; or rather she had been paid but hadn't done it for the money. Slaughtering what remained of the raiders there was a pleasure, one last indulgence in the insane bloodlust that had once been a normal part of her life before leaving it behind or at least trying to.
Coming to the end of her stroll Angelina's thoughts on the matter ended for the time being and she pushed open the rickety old door to the outside world, leading out into the desert wilderness that was the Mojave wasteland though even pre-war it would have been a harsh place that was hard to live in she imagined. Whatever it was like, and whatever Angelina decided to do with herself for now she was determined to make it work. Whatever the Mojave held for her she would face it head on as she had all problems that she encountered before.
Angelina lay almost completely motionless, completely still except for her breathing and her eyes scanning the area below. The sun beating down on her she ignored it entirely, nothing could bother her at that exact moment as she observed her target carefully; the heat, dust, rocks, various creatures of the Mojave - none of them would distract her. None of them mattered. All there was in the world that mattered was Angelina, her rifle and her target.
The NCR hadn't taken control of the Mojave and forcefully added it to the list of conquered territories now part of the Republic without making more than a few enemies and this one in particular had caused enough trouble to earn the honor or a price being put on his head. Angelina was there to collect.
When she was good and ready Angelina finally pulled the trigger. The old level action rifle was aged but still in great condition; the trigger pull was perfect and it broke cleanly. The hammer fell and a split second later the .45-70 Government round in the chamber shot out from the weapon's barrel and connected with Angelin's target. The man was struck just left of his nose and collapsed mid-step dead before he hit the ground already covered in his own blood as it began pooling around him on the dust covered ground. Angelina calmly pushed the lever of her rifle forward, pulled it back into position and grabbed the empty cartridge that had been ejected tucking away the small brass casing in a pocket before getting up and heading down to where her target lay to claim her prize.
There had once been a somewhat powerful and far reaching group in the Capital Wasteland, where Angelina had once made a living as a mercenary, known as the Regulators who functioned similarly to how Angelina did now. They would take the fingers of targets as proof of their death and wold also accept the fingers of targets from others that sought to assist them in their efforts to rid the wasteland of what they determined to be evil scum. Angelina didn't make that moral distinction in her work and preferred taking the ears of her kills instead, finding them easier to remove and carry, and now had taken the ear of her target. Searching the dead man with a rather large chunk of the back of his head missing Angelina wasn't bothered by the sight, she simply took what valuables she found, particularly ammunition and started moving leaving one more dead Great Khan in her wake as she did so. It didn't matter to Angelina who her targets were but as she walked away from the man laying in a pool of his own blood she couldn't help but feel satisfied, the Khans were little more than barely cultured raiders, but raiders none the less. Angelina had a deeply personal grudge against anyone even vaguely associated with raiders let alone those who were raiders, but that didn't matter. What mattered was getting back alive to collect her payment.
It was a long way back to where she needed to be but Angelina was no stranger to physical exertion and was in fact quite familiar with it though old wounds of hers had seen fit to start acting up should she wear herself out too much; her ribs ached where she had once been shot and had a couple of them shattered, her leg which had nearly been crippled by a shotgun from close range pained her whenever she strained it, she had taken a round underneath each shoulder blade though those thankfully didn't flare up, at least not as often as the others. There were other less severe wounds both old and new and then of course the myriad of undocumented and hard to keep track of mental battle wounds and scars. which still plagued Angelina. Those were the ones she preferred to avoid thinking about the most as well and ignoring them was just what she did as Angelina adjusted the faded baseball cap she was still wearing two months after arriving in the Mojave, two months during which she still hadn't entirelly adjusted to the desert climate.
"Shit." Angelina breathed quietly, unslinging her rifle and ducking behind a large nearby rock as she heard voices in the distance.
As far out as Angelina was she wasn't going to take any chances. Plenty of people were attacked within city limits of whatever city they might reside in but many more attacks occured and ended badly out in the wasteland where one was all alone and only had themselves to rely on. Luckily for Angelina she had never been given to relying too strongly on others. Instead she simply kept her wits about her while out and about and if anyone decided the lone bounty hunter was their next target they would quickly, painfully and fatallly learn why that was a horrible idea.
Carefully peeking out from behind her relatively solid cover and could see two men wandering toward her in similar garb as he target clearly alerted by the shot she had fired not too long ago. Raising her rifle Angelina kept the men in her sights, noting that they too were Great Khans. She had been told her target had possibly been holed up with others. The others hadn't had a price put on their heads individually but Angelina had been offered a small bonus for each additional Great Khan she took out along with her intended target.
"Too easy."
Keeping her rifle steady Angelina watched the two men cautiously scanning the area around them without seeing her and continued walking slowly out in the open. Neither of them would be leaving there alive. Angelina fired and one of the Khans hit the ground with a large bloody hole just left of the center of his chest, collapsing almost like a puppet with its strings cut as the life was instantaneously snatched out of him. Quickly ejecting the empty cartridge and chambering another round Angelina lined up her second shot and fired again, this Khan was dropped just as easily before he could take cover or figure out what was going on. He dropped to his knees and toppled oover with a hole just under his chin.
Two more literally filthy raiders of the broken tribe that had once dominated Bitter Springs and then Red Rock Canyon lying dead Angelina approached and quickly removed an ear from each other their corpses before setting back out on her way. The small group of Khans had been hiding near the still abandoned Camp Guardian, using a nearby cave as the group had often been known to do struggling to barely survive and foolishly raiding any and all passers by in addition to attacking any NCR units they had the chance to. It had been those attacks whether out of necessity or revenge that had alerted the NCR to their presence and the job had eventually been handed down to Angelina once it had become clear a once prominent Khan was behind the trouble. All that was left was to collect the bounty for him and his two partners in crime. As she kept walking along back to where she'd picked up the job Angelina mulled that over, the men she had killed were criminals and yet she didn't feel too strongly about that, the only real feelings she had about the situation being the sick delight of revenge carried out. Raiders above all were scum in her book a place they had earned not only by being just that but by attacking her long ago leaving the bounty hunter scarred and angry ever since, the ill will she felt toward them greater than anyting else and still dominating her life even as she attempted to change. More than once she had considered the possibility that it wasn't possible at all to change whether she wanted to or not, Angelina still didn't know, but she was there to try. Changing her life had been the motivation behind arriving in the Mojave in the first place.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind Angelina proceeded toward cvilization or what passed for it in the post-apocalyptic nightmare that the United States had become. At the moment nothing much mattered other than getting back alive and in one piece all other thoughts only served to distract her from that task. Distractions were one thing Angelina couldn't afford as they would mean a possibly slow, horrible death and death in general was one thing she wished to avoid if at all possible. If not who or whatever it was that killed her would find it was no easy task killing her.
The thought of Angelina putting up much if any of a fight hadn't occured to another man out in the wilderness she was completely unaware was watching her carefully. It hadn't occured to him because being one of the remnants of Caesar's Legion that hadn't fled back east and tried desperately to regroup he viewed women as truly incapable of anything even vaguely related to combat and waging war. She, as a female, was beneath him in every way. She was domestic being meant to serve him in every way and make his life easier in whatever way that he demanded but that thought wasn't what drove Curtis at the moment, though the thought of a wife taken by force and shown as a trophy of his conquest was always pleasing it was instead his drive to carry out the will of the Legion that fueled him. Several other men such as himself had been left behind and operated largely on their own in order to cause as many problems as possible for the NCR in their own territory while the main Legion forces regrouped and continued fighting back east. This filthy degenerate woman that he carefully tailed with ease due to years of experience as one of the frumentarii had been responsible for the death of one frumentarius that had given himself away by mistake as well as generally helping the NCR allowing them to focus more on their war effort instead of domestic issues such as the Great Khan remnants. For this she was to be dealt with.
Moving carefully until he was well within range Curtis let out a terrifyingly loud and indimidating war cry just as Angelina spun around and prepared for a fight; she was too late however as the frumentarius swung his club and caught her left arm in the bicep knocking her footing off and sending her reeling until she regained her balance. Angelina barely unslung her rifle and started to bring it up when Curtis swung his club again this time striking her left hand itself likely breaking several bones as intense pain shot through Angelina's arm and she clenched her teeth hard enough that they felt as if they might shatter into dust.
The frumentarius didn't stop as Angelina lost her grip on the rifle and stepped in close, jamming the end of his club into her stomach doubling Angelina over before he brought his elbow down sharply into the base of her skull. A sharp pain spreading quickly from where she'd been struck Angelina was dazed by the blow as it knocked her to the ground and she felt a booted foot stomp down on her right hand before kicking away her rifle almost effortlessly. Despite her injuries Angelina was far from done fighting and rolled over, drawing her knife and slashing at Curtis' legs leaving a searing hot gaping gash along both legs.
Curtis simply clenched his teeth and raised his war club high above his head fighting through the relatively minor pain, ready to deliver a blow to Angelina's head he barely missed kicking up clouds of dust and dirt surrounding Angelina's head forcing her to close he eyes as she brought a leg up and forefully kicked him in the crotch.
The move bought Angelina time as Curtis nearly fell over and barely held onto his club as Angelina painfully crawled out from under him and struggled to her feet, shedding the pack she was carrying as she did so. Tightly gripping her knife Angelina paused to gain her bearings still shook up from the violent serious of blows she had taken before charging Curtis who was now fighting to raise his club, still in pain and all around discomfort. Angelina closed the distance between them in a few short steps and kept her off hand up and ready to defend herself as she planted her feet and swung with all her might putting her body behind the blow as she stuck her combat knife in Curtis' side before he could avoid the attack. The familiar sensation of her weaopn piercing someone's torso was oddly satisfying and only further fueled Angelina's counter attack; pressing her shoulder against him she pushed and threw Curtis flat on his back and ripped her knife out at the same time.
Sent sprawling Curtis lost his grip on his club and fell back onto the ground scrambling to put some distance between him and Angelina before trying to get up. She didn't give him a chance to however and charged him again, bringing her booted foot across his face knocking a few teeth out in the process, sending the tiny white specks bouncing across the ground along with a small streak of blood. Bringing her boot down on Curtis' throat once he was flat on his back Angelina listened to his pained coughs as she raised her foot and brought it back down again this time on his nose easiily breaking it.
Curtis took the blows rather well and despite the intense pain shooting through his body caught Angelina's next kick and pushed back throwing her off balance and a moment later she fell flat on her back. Curtis scrambled to his feet, warm blood flowing freely all over the lower half of his face as he did so reminding him of his painful wound that he was fighting through. For Caesar, for the Legion, nothing would stop him except death. Angelina had barely gotten to her feet before Curtis tackled her throwing his full weight into her sending them both to the group in a heap, his larger body crushing her against the ground as he fell on top of her, Struggling to get an arm out from underneath Curtis and start punching him; the first blow struck his already injured nose stunning her dazed attacker just long enough to strike again before he forefully back handed her which was more loud than it was painful.
Angelina stared up at her attacker and struggled to fight back but with one severely injured hand and on her back with him atop her it quickly became a struggle simply to avoid his blows or otherwise block them. Curtis didn't care, didn't hesitate and certainly didn't stop as he rained down blows upon his trapped victim mercilessly beating her, furiously punching and striking with all his might knowing that to relent was to show weakness, to invite this pathetic woman beneath him to fight back, to allow her the chance to do so. He had felled many a greater opponent than her. This NCR loving profligate would be no match.
Raising his elbow high above Angelina as she uncovered her face and attempted to strike back at her attacker, having hardly done so the entire time, Curtis brought it down and struck Angelina between the eyes knocking her out as her head bounced off the ground beneath her. For the second time in her life Angelina was at the mercy of a raider.
The temptation to simply kill Angelina with a crushing blow to her skull from his war club had been great but Curtis had managed to keep himself from doing so. He had decided on another fate for the degenerate wastelander that lay before him and after restraining the injured woman started to carry her off to where he had made camp. For several days Curtis had followed the NCR's bounty hunter from afar using the skills of a frumentarius to remain undetected and when she had ventured forth into the wilderness so too had he, adopting a new series of tactics and remaining entirely unseen instead of simply blending into the background as he had before.
After watching Angelina and properly deciding upon a plan of action the highly trained, experienced frumentarius struck when she least expected it and had captured his target alive. The only obstacle left standing in his way was to hand her off to the Legion proper and send her back east. Tending to his wounds once he reached the nearby camp Curtis watched his new capture carefully, she was not after all as poor a fighter as he had suspected, however he certainly did not fear her. If the woman awoke and decided she wished to be beaten more than he would happily oblige. Until then Curtis simply continued tending to his wounds and planned his next move carefully.
Curtis was certainly no stranger to operating deep behind enemy lines having done so since before the ill fated Second Battle Of Hoover Dam which had driven the Legion back considerably. Now was no different than before save for his lack of support close at hand but it wasn't the first time Curtis had operated under such conditions and likely wouldn't be the last. There would an opening across the river nearby and that was where he would slip through and deliver his capture to the rest of the Legion, carefully making his way through dangerous territory as he had so many times before, once the hand off had been made Curtis would return to the Mojave to continue his secret war against the NCR.
Continuing to plan his next series of moves as he ignored the pain his wounds were causing him Curtis started a small camp fire and found his capture stirring, her hands tightly boud as well as her feet for now. Curtis always made sure they were only as mobile as needed and if not needed at all then the captures were rendered immobile. Angelina was the latter because she didn't need to be the former.
"Be still wench." Curtis spoke in a commanding voice, glaring at Angelina where she lay on her side, "Be still and quiet."
Angelina's mind was barely able to register the fact that someone was speaking let alone to her or what was being said. Instead she continued to wake up in intense pain and start struggling as she opened her eyes.
"I said be still!" Curtis quickly rosed closing the gap between them and kicking her in the stomach, "Lay there and know your place profligate."
Angelina could do little more than curl up in pain and attempt to shield herself from any further blows as pain flowed through every last inch of her beaten body, unable to fight back just yet as she angrily waited for the moment when she could get loose and beat whoever this man was to death. Until then Angelina struggled to keep herself from attempting anything further lest she be beaten until she couldn't make her escape when the opportunity presented itself. When that moment came whoever Angelina's attacker was he would meet a bloody brutal and preferrably drawn out end that would put him through twice the pain she was experiencing.
"Good. Now stay that way."
Angelina simply clenched her teeth and glared at Curtis as he took a seat across from her and started cooking something or other over the small campfire he had started.
Some time later with her hand still shattered and pain almost crippling her Angelina fought through it as she stumbled along after Curtis who tirelessly drug her along after having dangerously crossed the Colorado nearly drowning her in the process. He had simply beat her shouting that she was nothing but a filthy burden and slowing him down, that it would almost be easier to simply kill her, but still he dragged her through the wasteland further east. Angelina simply kept up as best she could to avoid further beatings which, if she fought back in her current state would only bring on a more severe beating. Instead of fighting she went along with whatever Curtis demanded and waited.
Curtis had turned his back started leading Angelina along further east toward friendly territory for him and unbelievably hostile territory for her. It was finally what appeared to be the perfect moment - exactly what she'd been waiting for - Angelina lunged forward raising her bound hands and bringing them down in front of Curtis. She simaltaneously put a boot in the back os his knee then put her own knee in his back as she pressed him down flat on his stomach, pulling back and beginning to strangle him with the rope that bound her hands together. Curtis struggled and fought back but it was no use despite her own injuries Angelina had taken him by surprise and was more than capable of keeping him beneath her now and slowly but surely, painfully, the life drained from Curtis' and he went limp in her hands.
"Fucker." Angelina let Curtis' head hit the ground and freed herself with a knife he carried.
Once free Angelina quickly scanned the area around her and found that she was alone - at least for the time being. Acting quickly she took Curtis' sheath for his knife and put it on her own belt, sheathing the knife she hesitated as she examined his club for a moment. The surprisingly well made weapon had been hand crafted and having been on the receiving end of it Angelina knew just how devastating the surprisingly small, light weapon was. After a moment she took it in her good hand and propped it against her shoulder as she started moving.
Angelina had completely lost track of which direction they had been moving in during the rough trek across the post-apocalyptic wilderness of Arizona. Whatever the man had planned to do with her it wasn't good and Angelina knew enough to figure out he had been with the Legion. They had been heading east. Now she had no clue where she was or where she was going but Angelina knew anything that wasn't in an NCR uniform was hostile and that was more than enough motivation to kill who or whatever she ran into without waiting for them to take notice of her. The only problem with that plan was with her hand still badly injured Angelina likely wouldn't be able to use the club she had taken from Curtis and though she still had his knife which likely wouldn't save her from a concentrated effort.
Unfortunately for her Angelina quickly learned just how correct her assessment of the situation had been moments later upon running into a group of legionairies who quickly spotted her and gave chase. Unable to flee and evade them Angelina stopped, turned quickly and swung her stolen club one handed striking one of the men in the side of the head resulting in a loud sickening snap as he fell to the ground dead. Angelina dropped the club instantly not bothering to try and recover it but by the tie she'd unsheathed her knife it was too late. The group was all over her and soon enough she was yet again beginning to lose conciousness while the group beat her endlessly.
Hours later Angelina awoke in even more intense pain that when Curtis had originally captured her, not knowing just how long it had been since she had stumbled into the legionairies who had immediately recaptured her in her wounded state. All that Angelina knew was she was bound hand and foot much more securely than before and laying on her side once again.
As Angelina came to her vision was filled with a dimly lit room, quickly realizing she was in a tent of some sort with a low fire lit nearby, surrounded by men speaking to each other apparently unaware of her recovery. More Legion men. She was at a camp, Angelina decided, they had taken her to a Legion camp at an unknown location somewhere in Arizona likely deep in hostile territory.
"Ah, you have awakened." An evil, demeaning yet smooth and calm voice carried through to her.
After a moment of looking around a man in mostly crimson clothing crouched before Angelina and she barely managed to lift her head to look him in the eyes. A smile tugged at hsi lips threatening to give away how amused he was with the capture. The fact that even now facing slavery or crucifixion anyone would have the nerve, the bravery, to stare him down with clear aggression and anger in their eyes bumped her a notch up above other degenerates of the wasteland. That wouldn't save her from her fate.
"You have killed a great man, you know. For this you may be put to death but that is yet to be decided."
Angelina continued glaring up at him unflinchingly and her returned the favor during her pause, his eyes drifting over her as she struggled slightly less than before, still working at the ropes that bound her.
"Try as you might you won't free yourself. It is over for you, I am afraid." The legionairy shook his head, matching Angelina's gaze once more, "You will not escape. You will not meet any other fate but what we decide for you - what the mighty Caesar decides. You will suffer as he sees fit."
"Fuck you." Angelina spat, "Fuck you. With a barrel cactus."
"Ah, such colorful words, and yet - they carry no weight." The man chided shaking his head, "It's okay soon you may not be able to spit your filthy profligate insults, flinging them about so carelessly as you go about all your business. Filthy vermin. You will learn, however short the rest of your pathetic little life may be - you will learn."
Angelina fell silent as she clenched her teeth and nearly shook with rage, wincing and regretting it as she attempted to ball both her hands into fists. The pain that shot through her body from her shattered left hand was great enough that not even she could ignore it and Angelina had suffered many, many horrific wounds in her relatively short life.
"Ah, see? You have already learned a valuable lesson. If you wish to avoid pain do not cross the Legion. You have learned this too late, I fear. But we will see. Perhaps this valuable lesson will be put to use after all."
Apparently finished taunting and insulting their capture the man stood and left the tent they had left Angelina in surprised they hadn't simply left her out in the open to freeze in the disturbingly cold desert nights. Whatever the case Angelina found herself restless and yet unable to free herself, her restraints cutting into her skin even more every time she struggled against them which only served to further her pain and misery simply making her suffering that much worse and yet she couldn't bring herself to quit. Not until, eventually, as the legionairies all returned to their tents - and even a few to the one she was in no doubt to keep her from attempting an escape - and Angelina simply wore herself out. Eventually she passed out into a fitful sleep that was none too satisfying.
Angelina was rather rudely awakened by suddenly being forcefully nudged by a legionary's booted foot until she woke up, even receiving a light kick to the head as she opened her eyes.
"Awaken debased wench, we move."
It was when she went to get to her feet Angelina realized that they weren't bound with rope any longer and the tents had been broken down and the group was ready to move. It had also been as she rose from the dirt that Angelina realized her injured hand had been crudely set. Upon noticing she was aware of this the man that had taunted her last night smiled to himself, looking over at her.
"If you are to be a slave you are no good broken."
Angelina once again simply clenched her teeth and imagined what it would be like to watch the life slowly drain from this man's eyes as she had watched Curtis die not all that long ago, before running into a Legion patrol, one that she could hardly believe had captured her alive. It would have been an understatement to say her pride had been wound instead it had been stabbed, beaten and left dying on the side of a caravan route. All she could do for now however was continue marching along with the fast pace of the legionairies who stopped for little to nothing along the way as they headed further and further into Legion territory taking Angelina to the nearest real settlement. She had avoided slavery years ago when captured by raiders in the Capital Wasteland and now as Angelina looked about her for an escape route she couldn't find she had finally met that same fate in a new, possibly worse setting. Being sold to the Paradise Falls slavers and then possibly those in the Pitt was bad enough but even they could hardly compare to the stories she had been told of the Legion. Crucifixion, slavery and whatever other sick pass times they had weren't high on Angelina's list of things to experience in her life time but as she marched along behind her captors she prepared herself for the worst and to fight for her life yet again.
Trudging along behind the crimson clad warriors Angelina only now realized her old sun bleached baseball cap that had lost most of its color had been removed leaving her closely shaved head exposed to the elements. Rather uncomfortable but hardly noticeable given her circumstances. The mild discomfort was still nothing compared to knowing what lay ahead which dominated Angelina's thoughts as she desperately searched for a way out that wouldn't simply get her caught and beaten again but found none. These were not the same kind of people that simply went out raiding, these men were trained, they would catch her unless she thought things through. Curtis had let his guard down and underestimated her as nothing more than another degenerate and a woman at that. These men didn't seem too and in her current condition Angelina doubted she could take on one of them without having great difficulty let alone the whole group.
"We are almost there. Prepare to face your judgment." The Decanus spoke suddenly without looking back, his voice easily carrying to Angelina, "Face it with some sense of decency, unlike your degenerate bretheren."
With that the veteran Decanus continued leading the march to the Legion city, or what had once been a city, a small yet prosperous that had long since become a Legion dominated city and had at one point acted as a forward base until the day when the Legion took what remained of Arizona and proceeded further toward Nevada. Now pushed back into their own territory they were rebuilding even as the NCR kept slowly advancing, just how effective their efforts were was shown when frumentarii such as Curtis could operate with near impunity while teams like the one Angelina had run into safely left their own territory and ventured out looking for targets of opportunity. As the city drew closer and closer Angelina knew she had to make her move and take her chances in the Arizona wildness which was just as unforgivinly punishing as it was in Nevada with the added threat of Caesar's far reaching Legion.
Without hesitation Angelina stepped between two legionairies in the group and slammed her elbow into the side of one's head catching him completely off guard; his comrade reacted quickly but Angelina had already taken a step in his direction and swung her other elbow at his face as he drew his weapon. The man stumbled and fell over before Angelina regained her balance and took off running. The rest of the raiding party weren't far behind shouting loudly after her, machetes drawn and ready to carve her like a slab of meat when they finally caught up and that was more than motivation enough for Angelina as she kept moving her feet pounding against the bland sandy ground.
It was all Angelina could do to keep running, fleeing, the legionairies in pursuit still shouting for her blood but she didn't stop. Didn't hesitate. Even as she stumbled and nearly fell Angelina quickly found her clumsy footing and continued into the barren wasteland ahead almost glad that she was heading out into nothingness. There she would be alone. There they would lose her. Anywhere else would likely be filled with more Legion. Out in the wasteland Angelina knew she could survive and thus it was her only salvation - the only place no one would find her Legion or otherwise. It had been a mistake to ever set foot in the Mojave. It had been the most horrendously ill thought out action she had taken in a long time. As Angelina ran out into the endless sea of nothing she knew that, and barely keeping ahead of her pursuers she knew soon they would have her.
In the split second between tripping over herself again and hitting the ground Angelina gave up. Years of fighting and a trip across the country and nothing had truly changed, she was as equally hopeless there as anywhere. It was only the slightest sign of giving up but Angelina had cracked and in her mind had started deciding it was over, reacting slower, almost giving herself up. It was in her sluggish struggle to return to her feet that the legionairies caught Angelina and it began once more as it always would until she died, punches, kicks, a few machete blows that barely pierced her leather armor, and it didn't stop like it had before. The legionairies flew off into a blind rage and even their Decanus joined in the vicious display of power, control and dominance. It wasn't until the Decanus had finally decided that Angelina had been shown yet again that she was theirs and had no way to escape that the attack ceased.
Throwing Angelina over his shoulder one of the legionairies carried the nearly cripplied woman who was now nearly unconcious and incapable of fighting let alone escaping once more and so they marched on back toward the city they were still near which stood in the distance proudly displaying Legion banners all over. Wherever the degenerate they had captured came from this would now be her home from that point on until the end of her miserable worthless life if that was what their superiors decided. Perhaps it wouldn't be and instead she would be put to death or even thrown into the arena and given a chance to fight to the death and regain a scrap of honor. It didn't much matter to the legionairies who submitted to the will of Caesar and carried out his and his officers' orders without question or hesitation of any sort. Thus was the Legion in all their might.
So severe had been Angelina's several beatings and the Legion's neglectful treatment of their captures that upon being literally carried into one of the larger cities near the front line of the on going war that she had taken two weeks to recover enough to be able to function. The fact that she was unable to function didn't help in how the Legion treated her while she was caged and had a slave collar forced on her, cutting into her neck like nothing ever had. It was painful and wholely uncomfortable experience and recovery which Angelina couldn't imagine wishing on her worst enemy even as spiteful and vengeful as she could be though it was also something Angelina couldn't have imagined despite knowing what raiders and slavers were like the Legion seemed to make them appear rather tame in every way possible. Hearing the cries of nearby crucified and watching them be torn from their friends and family before being thrown up on a cross tended to have that effect on everyone.
Slowly over the next week Angelina began adjusting for lack of a better word to her decrepit, hopeless new existence which didn't seem to be much more than waiting around all day hoping she wasn't put on a cross or otherwise brutalized - something she'd surprisingly avoided. The legionairies were particularly brutal with their treatment of female captures, and women in general, and yet other than leering at her and constantly muttering to themselves and each other about the captured women none of them attacked Angelina. Other than the usual rough treatment she hadn't been dealt with in quite the same way which was something Angelina noted but appreciated. If anything like that had happened Angelina didn't know whether or not if she would have been able to capably defend herself, at least until more men got involved, given her current state but she would have fought. Angelina had already had that particular horrific scarring life experience once and didn't plan to ever let it happen again no matter how much she had given up on everything else. It was almost hard to simply sit by and watch as it occured semi-regularly to others but Angelina refused, deep down in the part of her that hadn't died, to let herself become like them.
"You, our might Centurion wishes to speak with you - filthy wench, up!" One of the legionairies kicked the large chain link fence that surrounded the captures near Angelina, "Up! Filthy woman."
Angelina groaned quietly as she stood bracing herself against the fence and using it to pull herself up mostly using her uninjured dirt caked hand. At that point she almost doubted it would ever be clean again. That any of her would ever be able to function even approaching properly ever again. Still she shambled over to the gate as it was opened and she was taken from the pen the captures were kept in day and night, rain or shine, at least one having died already from exposure to the elements.
Angelina was dragged along by her escort in no real shape to walk on her own anyway despite the time she'd spent in the Legion camp it had been a harsh period of time the likes of which she had never really experienced before even in her hard life as a mercenary. That did't matter now as it was an entire country and a complete life time behind her. Angelina's life now was that of a future slave. Broken, beaten and broken more when she finally thought things were at their worst. A couple of weeks with the Legion had shown her that thigns could always get worse and she had seen nothing in regards to how horrible the world could truly be. While all this was still running through her head Angelina found herself lead to some sort of large pre-war building that was still intact, a surprising but not rare occurence, and was pushed inside in front of the legionary who had retrieved her before he started pushing her up to the second floor and into a large office, or what had become one since its use after the nuclear apocalypse.
There before Angelina stood the first Centurion she had ever seen and if he so wished it the last, towering above her in his large suit of finely created armor that had no doubt stood the test of time and seen him through many battles, though now it lacked the blood his enemies and their entrails smeared all over it as it would have during most campaigns. Now however was rare moment indeed as he had fallen back and regrouped, awaiting reinforcements so that they could all storm the front line once again and take the NCR by surprise - but until then he had other ways to keep himself and his men entertained.
"That is all." The mountain of a man spoke calmly though his sharp eyes showed that it was a ruse, just below the surface was a sociopathic murderer ready to tear everyone apart within a ten mile radius.
The nameless Centurion and Angelina were left to stay at each other for the brief moment it took the legionairy to disappear back out the door on his way out of the building. In that extremely brief moment the two had easily read each other and made their first evaluation, she deciding he was definitely in control whether she liked it or not and more than a match for her, he deciding she was almost what he'd expected but somehow, just ever so slightly, less disgusting and reprehensible than he'd imagined.
"Come." He spoke after a moment and motioned for Angelina to step forward.
Angelina couldn't help but wince inwardly, doing what she could to keep from doing so outwardly as well, as she realized she hesitated at the gesture. She had learned to fear again. Angelina stepped forward and the two continued to observe each other carefully scanning for any signs of weakness like the one she had already displayed.
"You... you are the one who killed Curtis, or so they tell me."
Angelina couldn't help but smile slightly at that, "Yes."
"They say he didn't die well." The Centurion chuckled, crossing his arms and shaking his head, "Unsurprising to say the least. Always expected that of him."
"Glad I could please."
The Centurion smirked, "You've some fight left. Good. This pleases me - you will be needing every ounce of it left."
The Legion commander paused for dramatic effect as he unfolded his arms from across his wide chest and allowed a smile to cross his face.
"We are to open a gladiatorial arena soon. I think the woman who bested one of the Frumantarii."
"How do you even know about that?"
The Centurion grinned now, "That patrol that caught you, they were no random patrol. We had heard of you, your efforts benefitting the NCR - they were to meet him and collect you."
Angelina cut off a verbal response but realized too late she had already given away her surprise and the Centurion's pleasure showed on his own visage. They had tracked and hunted her like the animal they considered her and then captured her. Now they were going to throw her into the arena and watch her sweat and bleed for their own amustment and there was little to nothing Angelina could do about it. Now that she was firmly in their grasp the only thing Angelina could hope for was as they referred to it a "good death". As good a death as they allowed "profligates".
"When?" Angelina croaked, her voice low and raspy, hardly having spoken since she'd arrived at the horrid slave pen weeks ago.
"We should have a suitable arena built and an opponent soon. We will fetch you when you are needed." The Centurion paused again, looking her over, "Die well, profligate, not many receive the chance to redeem their pitiful ways."
"I'll try to keep that in mind." Angelina murmured, her voice still low and weak, something she hated but couldn't fix like so many other things.
"You are dismissed." He waved her off in as dismissive a manner as he spoke and sat once more at his desk, quickly losing himself in his work.
Angelina proceeded out back to the slave pen on her own knowing full well that if she didn't her collar would detonate as soon as she strayed too far from her designated area, the size of which she didn't know exaclty, and if she tried to do anything else the Legionairies would slaughter her as they had so many others long before she had arrived. Yet again Angelina was reminded of the fact that every day of her life from then on was lived at their mercy and there was nothing she could ever do about it. Returning to the pen Angelina slumped over in a corner and brought her knees up, burying her face in her hands barely able to keep from screaming for the first time in years.