It was odd, how blood tasted like metal. Such a smooth fluid, and yet, when it hits your tongue, it has that same sharp twang that you might expect from a blade. Even stranger yet was how it clung, its colour staining every unfortunate fabric it comes into contact with, leaving behind its remnants of the past that are not easily scrubbed away. At least, not from the cheap, frayed robes they were made to wear by those who saw them as lesser.
Klaus spat out a wad of saliva and blood, the thick mixture dripping down his mouth like a drooling dog as he stared at the rocky dirt beneath his hands, now dyed scarlet. He locked his jaw and shut his eyes, bracing himself before another blow hit him square in the face with enough force to knock him back. A thinly-disguised yelp of pain escaped against his will as the frames of his glasses dug hard into the bridge of his nose.
"What do you say to me?" The sinister voice hissed from above, coupled with a hard kick to his side from a boot to push him onto his back. Klaus had learned to fear that voice, but he did not let it show. No, he would be damned if he gave them another reason to punish him.
When Klaus didn't answer, due to the wind getting knocked out of his lungs, he earned himself a stomp to his left hand, the pain of his bones being pushed to their limits making him wince, biting down on his own teeth as hard as he could just to keep from crying out. "Speak!"
Even when angry, that voice sounded calm, collected, deep, and smooth as honey. It was easy to listen to, it rolled off its owners tongue easily, but that satisfying baritone held a sociopathic madness that edged into his every word.
"Sorry," Klaus coughed out as best as he could, but that wasn't good enough for his superior.
"I didn't fucking hear you," he snarled, emphasizing his distaste by digging his boot harder into Klaus's hand.
"I'm sorry!" Klaus instinctively tried to yank his hand away, but that only made the agony grow in intensity. It kept getting worse, until he thought that his knuckles might break, but then that foot was lifted, taking with it the pain. Both of his hands had started trembling when he pulled his injured one towards him, still throbbing with a dull ache as he examined it. Nothing broken, but it would definitely bruise, and nastily.
The quick self-assessment Klaus was performing was interrupted when the world blurred over, a cruel hand ripping the glasses off his face. He rapidly and clumsily sat up, knowing that he couldn't protest if he wanted to stay out of the arena. He could only watch with squinted hazel eyes as his constant tormentor dropped them into the dirt in front of him, simply to step on one of the lenses with his full weight as he sauntered off, the canine's head that he wore as a status symbol blurring over more as Vulpes headed towards the food tent.
Klaus scrambled over to his glasses, wiping the dust off of them with his dirty sleeve. The right lens was chipped and cracked to the point of almost shattering, but, astonishingly, it kept together. The frames were bent now, and sat crooked and awkward on his face when he slipped them on with hands still shaking from lingering adrenaline, but it was better than nothing.
"Are you okay?" A hushed, but concerned voice jostled Klaus's attention up, where another slave was looking over him with sympathy, and offering her hand for support. He gladly took it, and used the extra leverage to pull himself up. He recognized her as Silvia, one of the women who made and distributed the primitive stuff that the Legion passed as medicine. That powder stuff could heal minor injuries without a problem, but more intense physical abuse was out of its league. "I'll see if I can fix your hand, or at least make it more bearable while it heals, but I can't do anything about your glasses." She gave him an apologetic look.
Klaus nodded, still a little shaken. "S'okay," he mumbled in thanks. They were used to helping each other out by now, the slaves. When one of them fell, the others helped them back up. Less could be said about the Legion, who would sooner slaughter their weaker links than address their flaws and train them to be better.
Silvia tried her best to lead Klaus to the medical tent without notice, sticking to the wall and avoiding the troops. If they could just get thee, she could sneak him some extra healing powder, wrap up his hand, maybe do something about that bruise that was starting to spill from the side of his nose and leak to the skin near his eye. They all had it bad when they screwed up, but Klaus seemed to get the worst of it, especially from Vulpes. That man beat the poor guy like they had a score to settle, with a vindictiveness in his flaming, borderline demonic eyes that's usually reserved for old enemies.
The shock seemed to be wearing off of Klaus as they neared the tent, and he lifted a hand to wipe the excess blood and saliva off of his face and push his unruly hair back and out of his eyes. He felt around in his mouth with his tongue, finding that one of his canines had been knocked out at some point, leaving a bleeding gap where it once rested. They were almost inside when an authoritative voice cut through the noise and got their attention.
"Hey, you!" A young scout with a scarf covering the lower half of his face approached them, gesturing at Klaus. "Blade, sharpen, now." he demanded, dropping a broad machete in Klaus's hands, seeing and taking notice of the slave's injured hand, but clearly not caring about how this might affect his comfort. "I'll be eating lunch with some other scouts. It better be finished before I am." With that warning, the man took his leave.
Klaus looked down to the weapon in his hands, and let out a long, resigned sigh. "I guess I'll catch you later," he said to Silvia, who looked irritated with this wrench in her plans.
"You could ask one of the others to cover for you. I don't think they care who does what as long as it gets done. Hell, I don't think they even take the time to register our faces."
Klaus just shook his head. "It's not a big deal, I can do it."
"I will never understand your lack of self-preservation in this environment." Silvia crossed her arms disapprovingly.
"Neither will I," Klaus shot her a forced smile as he started to walk off, towards the nearest unoccupied sharpening stone.
"If your hand gets worse, don't start crying when I patch you up this time, you idiot."
"I'll try my best!" He called to Silvia in a chipper, teasing tone, but when Otho pushed past and shot him a threatening glare for making his voice heard without express permission, Klaus quickly, if reluctantly, shut his mouth.
"I'm going with you." A first recon sniper firmly stated, leaving no room for argument.
"Me too." An NCR-trained sharpshooter expressed drowsily, perhaps a little chagrined at having been woken up so early.
"Ruff!" A cyberdog barked in excitement, his tail wagging hard enough to make his whole body wiggle.
Happy beeping could be heard from an eyebot.
"Lily?" Arcade asked the nightkin who had been quiet until now.
She looked to her friends, thought about going, but ultimately decided against it. "Someone has to keep Leo in his place, and it looks like you are more than capable of getting my favourite grandson back." she said in her low, gravelly neutral tone.
Arcade didn't blame her for staying; her mental issues often spelled danger for not only herself, but those around her if she experienced a break at the wrong time.
"Raul?" Veronica drew attention to the pre-war ghoul who was watching this all unfold with crossed arms.
"Hate to say it, but I'm gonna have to stay. M'not exactly as combat experienced as I used to be, and I think an arthritic old man would only slow the rest of you down. Plus, someone has to make sure that Lily doesn't try to adopt any more grandchildren while you're gone. I'd hate to come back to a pet nightstalker she took off the street because it followed her home." Raul shrugged, always having been one to serve his honest opinion with a healthy dose of sarcasm.
Arcade nodded in understanding, and addressed the group as a whole. "We're all here because Klaus decided that we were worth more than we knew, so it's time that we repaid that favour. Get your weapons, pack as many supplies and as much ammo as will fit in your bags, and then pack more, because this is going to be a long road ahead. Let's head out while we still have a lead."