Angelina had surprisinglly found the next few days in the Legion camp pleasant at least by their torturous standards which wasn't saying much and would only serve to get her hopes up if she allowed it but she knew better. Things would only go back to normal or get even worse. There was no less horrible and certainly no future. If there was it was no future Angelina wanted to be a part of, she had let the one and only single thing she had ever promised herself would never happen again to occur. She had failed in the most pathetic of ways, completely helpless and unable to do anything. None the less she couldn't help but notice something was indeed going on and had caused the change and that was when she started to catch on, her suspicions fueled by whispered rumors among the slaves that she overheard. The Legion was on the war path. Centurion Tecumseh had received his reinforcements during the night before as they slept.
Early in the morning waking them all war drums began pounding sounding off signals of war accompanied by the thunderous sound of hordes of Legionaries moving as one, chanting loudly getting themselves worked up and motivated for the cruel and insane things to come. They would be staring death in the face and showing it to their enemies as well, making them intimately acquainted with it.
It was during this great display that the slaves barely managed to catch from where they were that Angelina and several others were forcefully pulled out of their cages and literally dragged along the rough ground toward the center of the camp. Angelina offered no resistance, only going limp to offer no resistance rather than to weight down her owners. Eventually they were all made to kneel in the center of the camp before the amassed Legion forces, Centurion Tecumseh standing behind them all as he spoke in a loud comanding voice that demanded fear and respect making several of the slaves whimper as he began.
"Mighty forces of the great Caesar! Fearless warriors of the Legion! Today is the day in which we meet our destiny, that destiny is to drive the pitiful degenerates back across the massive Colorado!"
The Legion roared as one and a thunderous cheer went up blood lust and violent intent clear in their voices even as they shouted nothing more than animalistic noises in unision, words becoming completely unnecessary and even incapable of carrying quite the same emotion and strength.
"Today, we make a sacrifice! May the mighty god of war Ares smile down upon us!"
Another cheer went up as Tecumseh drew his sword and took off a slave's head all in one smooth motion, instantly killing the woman beside Angelina though she didn't flinch even as blood sprayed across her side and even on her face. The body slumped over, head rolling off in front of them, blood beginning to pool around Angelina. Next was the man on the other side of Angelina who fell over much the same way as his head rolled roughly a foot before coming to a stop. This didn't faze her either and she simply waited staring blankly out into the crowd as two more of the small group were slaughtered for the Legion's amusement but their sacrifice wasn't complete just yet. Tecumseh came to a halt behind Angelina once again as he began to speak once more.
"Behold! These lucky few, they shall fight to the last in the arena! For our amusement for our sacrifice! Die well, slaves!"
Angelina suddenly found herself being pulled up to her feet and dragged along to the arena where Tecumseh wielded the later Curtis' war club one handed as if it weighted nothing at all.
"Die well." Was all he offered along with the weapon.
Angelina, the semi-legendary Frumentarius killer, took the weapon and set foot in the arena once more. She was tired, beaten senseless and hardly in any condition to be fighting yet again, her broken hand still not fully healed and unlikely to heal properly wen it was and in her ragged state her old wounds were once more acting up. It was all she could do to even stay on her feet and maintain a tight grip on ther club. Whatever her condition Angelina would go down swinging and maim, cripple, crush, kill and destroy until they put an end to her.
Charging out into the field of battle as her three competitors headed out much more hesitantly Angelina drew close to one and started swinging her deadly blunt weapon of war, going low and striking the side of her opponent's leg the man had his leg taken out from under him with a loud cracking sound and fell hard on his back. Angelina brought her club up around in a circular motion holding it over her head for an ever so brief moment before swinging it in a downward arc impacting with great force the solid weapon easily shattered her opponent's knee crushing bone and mangling his leg with ease.
Spinning into a turn Angelina swung her mighty weapon once again at another opponent, the two cowardly slaves had wordlessly decided to team up and work against the heavily armed wild woman and one of them earned a broken arm just above the elbow as they were thrown to the ground in a heap. The other was lucky and barely caught Angelina with the tip of their machete blade - but only barely - leaving a small irrelevant cut on her bicep as Angelina took a step back and prepared her might weapon once more. The third opponent, a woman, suffered possibly the worst of them all as Angelina swung high and widly; the end of the club caught the woman in the chin and could be heard crush, breaking, misaligning and otherwise rearranging her face as she two went down, Angelina quickly turning on the first man she had injured who had crawled away, propped himself up against the arena walls and gripped his machete tightly as he watched in fear and agony.
Angelina quickly closed the gap between them and as the injured man took a swing she took a step back, then stepped forward and forcefully slammed the bottom of her foot into his nose. Before the full effect of the painful blow could be felt she started to swing again and slammed her club into the front of his face destroying it and smashing his head between it and the wall.
The crowd only cheered louder at the first extremely violent and satisfyingly bloody death of one of the slaves eager for more and yet hoping the battle, or rather the slaughter, would last just a bit longer. Long enough for them to properly enjoy the viciousness of it all. Sadly for them it didn't and already Angelina had returned and crushed the wounded woman's head in front of the last remaining opponent who had only now returned to his feet and tightly gripped his machete ready to fight but knowing he likely wouldn't make it out alive. Regardless he charged Angelina and paid for it dearly before he could bring his machete down on her the experienced female warrior had taken her club to his exposed sized and crushed several ribs as she threw him to the ground a second time. While he was on the ground Angelina delivered the final killing blow without hesitationg and it was over. She had won yet another pointless fight that only served to let her live another equally pointless day, or so she thought as she left the arena, dropping her club along the way far too tired to carry on.
Tecumseh simply watched from where he stood rather amused and pleased with the display as he had come to expect to be whenever Angelina was involved. She had proven herself to be far superior to other degenerate scum but that was for another time. He would give her the reward that had been promised when he returned from his own glorious battle for the time being he turned and ralliedh is men to him and headed out while Angelina instead returned to the slave pens and passed out in exhaustion.
For two days Angelina rested and was hardly bothered as she remained pent up in the slave pens, hating every last horrible minute of her existence within her cage but accepting it none the less, calmly dealing with it by simply sitting in the corner all day and doing nothing for there was nothing to do, nothing of consequence at any rate and she refused to mindlessly waste time and energy alike just as her fellow slaves did.
It was during these two days after her last battle in the arena that Centurion Tecumseh had gone back out onto the frontlines as he and his men had longed to do and fought the NCR at first driving them back toward the Colorado; his temporary success however proved just that and he was slowly but steadily sent back toward his camp. The NCR however, eager to continue pressing their advantage,failed to realize that despite driving Tecumseh back nearly to his camp they had actually been drawn into a trap and soon found themselves out flanked and nearly surrounded. Either Tecumseh would encircle them completely or they would be driven back into and across the river, if they were fortunate enough to survive the crossing.
From where she sat in the slave pens Angelina couldn't help but imagine what that would be like - what the battle itself was like, teaased by the sounds of distant battle; screams of sheer agony and pain, barely audible at times over all the gunfire and explosions, every now and then Angelina wondered what it would have been like to wrap her hands around the throat of an NCR soldier and watch the life drain from their eyes slowly, painfully, until there was nothing left. As it stood she wouldn't get that wonderful opportunity nor was Angelina sure she would even be able to had she not been enslaved, she had been fatigued and barely made it out of her last match in the arena combined with her latest leg wound - which still pained her - her situation wasn't looking too good.
Angelina's mind began wandering slightly from the still on going battle to her own battle which was still going on as well. If her other recent injuries weren't a concern her leg and hand were; one had resulted in a limp that would have cost her had she not been fighting incompetent opponents thus far, the other kept her from properly performing many tasks. It still pained her to form a fist, keeping her from striking someone, from properly gripping anything with both hands. She was slowly but surely being crippled and the lack of any real care for the slaves was making it worse, their "doctor" was a fellow slave who whispered rumors said may have been a wasteland doctor in the past life. Angelina didn't know how true that was, flexing her injured hand gently as she stared down at it in her lap, but they surely hadn't been a good one - hadn't been a Follower. If they had been they surely would have been crucified or whatever other cruel and unusual punishments the Legion had up their non-existent sleeves. Whatever their past Angelina knew she couldn't expect to be taken care of and decided she would have to excercise at least some caution from there on out, if only so she wasn't judged useless and incapable of functioning and killed with everyone else.
All these thoughts continued to occupy Angelina's mind as she waited as patiently as possible for Centurion Tecumseh to return victorious. She hadn't had any experience with the Legion before being captured but already could see there was nothing the NCR could do to truly beat them back, nothing they were willing to do. They either fought with the same total war methods or they were already destined to lose. All there was to do was sit and wait for that to happen and so Angelina did until they could all hear and evnetually see Tecumseh marching back victorious two days later.
Tecumseh's return could mean only one thing and that was that the NCR forces had been routed, otherwise he wouldn't have returned at all knowing the penalty for failure. In his wake followed Tecumseh's victorious forces who dragged along with them very few NCR captures. Over the course of the day Angelina would come to learn just how badly the NCR had been beaten back, outsmarted and wiped out, all but the few that had been brought back had been slaughtered. They hadn't made it back to the Colorado let alone across it instead eventually becoming bogged down and surrounded, that was when the real massacre began and no one had walked away.
It was also during the course of that day as Angelina regained her energy and recovered from her injuries further that she heard further whispers of what had happened, that not all of the Legion had returned and they were already setting up bases further ahead. Preparing to close in on the Colorado once more. Whatever had happened none of the slaves could be sure and so Angelina tried not to think about it though she found the idea rather pleasing. She had quickly come around to the Legion's way of thinking and according to them the NCR needed to be destroyed, and so it was, and so they would be.
It wasn't until another two days later that Tecumseh finally showed up at the slave pens once more and beckoned Angelina again, everyone else as usual staying as far away from him as possible when he approached.
"Ah good, you haven't succumbed just yet." Tecumseh glanced down at Angelina's leg wound which seemed to have avoided becoming infected thus far, "Good."
Angelina simply stared ahead as he spoke keeping from matching his gaze but never actually looking away either. She stood there staring at him as the Centurion paused before going on.
"This is most pleasing. One more, profligate. One more and perhaps, I think, you will have your reward. But not yet."
Tecumseh allowed himself a tiny smile of satisfaction as he watched Angelina though he saw no sign of it bothering her now he knew deep inside it did, he got to everyone, he made sure of that. No one that had ever entered his camps without being broken and Angelina was no different. She had been brought in and destroyed, her will crushed entirely, and in record time it seemed.
Without another word Tecumseh left Angelina standing there watching as he departed. With the recent advance and reconquering of lost lands Tecumseh had much to do, much to prepare for, soon he would be marching to the river and likely across it once more. Until he was given the order however Tecumseh had to prepare and ready his troops for that next move, keeping them ready to move out at any moment. While planning for all of that however Tecumseh of course contemplated what exactly to do with Angelina. He already had an idea in mind but perhaps he would decide on something else, depending on how she performed in her next bout in the arena. That was still a ways off however ast he new arrivals had yet to be broken down and made ready to be slaughtered by the already well known Frumentarius killer.
Angelina on the other hand found herself growing restless, disturbed by the promise of some sort of reward or prize which she told herself didn't exist. The idea that it might still lingered in her mind however no matter how hard she tried to rid herself of it. No matter what Angelina always went back to it. While struggling to deal with this Angelina had finally broke her silence and isolation from the other slaves. She had dealt with them as little and curtly as possible but had found it impossible to not inquire as to if there had ever been any such occasion before.
As Angelina had expected she was informed that there had never been a single instance of any slaves being rewarded in any way, shape or form. The only such things they received were quick deaths, which Angelina wasn't looking for, but as soon as she got her answer no matter how the slaves pried she remained silent. Listening to their constant whispering and chattering was bad enough now she had them trying to get her to speak once more, to find out more, only knowing what she knew yet believing her to hold some information or other that they didn't.
Despite their best efforts Angelina was determined to remain silent and did so until two days had passed and she was finally summoned to the arena once more, limping slightly from her wound which was a thankfully dull yet persistent pain now. She had largely recovered however, enough so that she was confident in her ability. Whichever of the new arrivals had been chosen to be pitted against her wouldn't limp away but rather be dragged out and thrown into the desert to rot just as they deserved.
Stepping back into the arena once more armed with the club she had taken from Curtis instead of a machete Angelina gripped it as tightly as she could with her injured hand. Staring straight ahead, her face blank Angelina stared down one of the male soldiers that had been captured. Oddly he didn't look too fearful, almost comfortable, Angelina decided quickly that he hadn't realized even if he won nothing good would come of it. He just like she would just live to fight another way. Angelina had already come to that conclusion and charged into battle only somewhat more cautiously than before, knowing that if she died it would actually be better than living, swinging her deadly club without pause never giving her opponent a chance to react.
The soldier started ducking and weaving avoiding every blow, preparing to strike carefully, waiting for an opening that wouldn't result in his head being caved in as he pulled away. Angelina was almost as cautious but remained ont he offensive and swung continously. Keeping him off balance and eventually taking her opponent out without a fight was preferred over allowing him to fight back and learning if he really was more capable than her other victims.
The man's ability and willingness to fight and kill so that he might be the one to walk away from the fight didn't matter and didn't even factor into Angelina's thoughts and expectations. He would be crushed by her mighty club like all those before him had died their equally bloody and violent deaths. There was nothing special about him. He was another slave. Another number. Another body tossed in a mass grave of unwashed, unlcean, debased and unwanted heathens and degenerates. She too would meet that same exact fate eventually but Angelina had no intentions of letting that happen just yet.
Caught up in her murderous thoughts Angelina failed to catch the next attack in time and the man lashed out - not with his machete but with his leg, kicking her own injured leg out from under her. Angelina hit the dirt with a pained but mostly angry look on her face, baring her clenched teeth, practically snarling up at her opponent as she rolled back and into a low crouch.
Ignoring the pain in her shin as best she could Angelina launched herself at the still attacking man and lunged forward, holding her mighty club in both hands horizontally. The club struck her target just above the waist with enough force to nearly break bone and sent them both to the ground once more, rolling around and struggling; he'd lost his machete but had taken hold of the club despite the pain they were both in it proved to be an even match. It was even at least until Angelina let go with her weak hand and brought her elbow-forearm crashing down onto her opponent's nose breaking it almost without any effort at all; only encouraged by blood pouring out all over his face beneath her Angelina struck again and again, then once more with a rough punch to his still exposed face.
Finally content with how she'd rearranged her opponent's face Angelina tore her club from his grasp and brought it down upon his head as quickly as she could, moved, set her feet and brought it down again on his chest. Both resulted in horrible cracking sounds the likes of which she couldn't recall ever hearing - there certainly were few things that could make any decent person feel so sick. Angelina wasn't decent however and by no means felt sick over what she'd just seen, done and heard. To her those were unknown things especially now. She just simply lived, went on with her life, and that was that.
Breathing heavily as she stood victorious Angelina looked to Tecumseh who simply returned her stare with a pleased and amused look on his face. She turend after a moment and left. Back to the cages with her it seemed. She hadn't believed his lies about any sort of reward awaiting her in the first place but still felt oddly disappointed. If nothing else his appearances broke up the mind numbingly boring routine of slavery. Angelina wasn't even allowed to work her days away as other slaves did as she was a dedicated source of amusement for her captors and pain for her fellow slaves. At least those unfortuante enough to face her in the arena. The bodies were beginning to pile up but she didn't mind.
As she exited the arena Angelina was oddly but not quite pleasantly surprised to hear of Tecumseh wishing to speak to her which Angelina hadn't expected at all. He hadn't always seemed entirely pleased with her and she already hadn't expected any of his promises to carry any weight. Perhaps she would start taking him at his word, or at least a little more seriously, but that was yet to be determined. Whatever it was he wanted to see her about Angelina headed toward his office unaccompanied which was still rather strange. Her slave collar had even been removed rather early on a fact which Angelina had quickly picked up on. Tecumseh clearly trusted his training for lack of a better word to keep her from doing anything particularly foolish and he had been right to.
Stepping into the office Angelina found the Centurion behind his desk and paying absolutely no attention to her for a moment as he scribbled something onto a piece of paper, stood and then finally looked at here. It was only then that Angelina paid particular attention to it but Tecumseh for all his intimidating tactics and appearance wasn't quite as huge as he seemed. It was the armor that made him seem so. Still he towered over everyone and looked down upon them both literally and metaphorically and, if the stories were to be believed, he was brutal and barbaric enough to make up for not being qutie as gargantuan as he seemed.
"Come." Tecumseh beckoned her, motioning for Angelina to approach his desk.
She did so without a word and stood silently before him in her filthy slave rags which were as always adorned with a red X over the torso, hers still relatively fresh and dark though in time it would become as worn out, faded and nearly invisible as the older slaves. It didn't much matter. Slaves were easily visible without the marking and rarely if ever attempted to escape. It seemed to be more to remind them of their place in the world, their lowly status, and to further humilate them than anythign else.
"You have done well for yourself, surprising - for both one who is as corrupt as you, and a woman as well."
The words hardly stung if they did at all. Angelina didn't show it if they did. She stood and took the insulting comment silently without any sort of visible reaction.
"As promised, you will be rewarded. I've decided it only seems right. A wonderful slave such as yourself only deserves it." Tecumseh paused, "You've learned your place faster than any others I've ever seen, I dare say, and you certainly don't seem to forget your place as you once had."
Another pause which wasn't filled by Angelina. Instead she stood absolutely still and stared at Tecumseh. Neither moved for a moment before he shrugged casually.
"And so you will receive your reward - you are to be my wfie." He stated simply, without feeling of any sort, though it struck Angelina as if the mountain of a man had just punched her in the stomach.
Tecumseh couldn't help but smile as Angelina absent mindedly let her jaw drop open ever so slightly her lips barely parting before closing it a second later. She said nothing for a moment.
"Yes." She nodded.
That was all there was to it as she continued staring at him blankly now out of shock more than anything. She was to be taken by a Centurion for his wife. Such was life as a female slave she had quickly learned. If nothing else Angelina knew her life would likely be somewhat less harsh, though she doubted it would be by much, and didn't care.
"Wonderful, I'd have hated to waste such an obedient slave, even if crucifxions are always oh so fun." Tecumseh gave a small smile that was clearly forced and fake as possible though it was never his intention to make it seem otherwise, "They will take care of you."
Without another word he brushed Angelina off and she slowly turned around to leave, still somewhat dazed and confused, hardly able to wrap her head around what had just happened. Still not entirely sure what to make of it Angelina was taken by one of the guards to wherever it was Centurion Tecumseh stayed, she hadn't seen his lodging in all her time at the camp, in fact she had hardly seen much of the camp at all. Angelina had spent her entire time either in the slave pens or in the arena and now suddenly she was being thrust yet again into a new life. Whatever awaited her she didn't much care. Anything would be better than what she had been subjected to but she just didn't care. Whatever ended up happening around her, to her, Angelina didn't care. She couldn't.
Once Angelina had headed back outside she was escorted by a single Legionarie who took her through the camp to parts previouslly unseen. There the unwashed masses of slaves toiled beneath the watchful, brutal eye of the mighty Legion - and nothing escaped its gaze. There, more crosses were to be found both empty, occupied and with corpes - and sometimes even skeletons - still lashed to them. There she also saw the Legion itself busy as always with one thing or another, for now it was preparing for the mighty crossing of the Colorado once more. Centurion Tecumseh had absolutely crushed the NCR forces that had been thrown at him and now he awaited the command to cross the river and take the fight to the debased and corrupt. Until such a time the men under his command busied themselves with training and preparing themselves for that moment. They existed to live and lived to exist but above all did what they did on behalf of Caesar.
Almost right in the middle of all this stood the building Tecumseh had claimed as his home, at least so long as he resided in the city, which Angelina had come to learn was named Fork Hill though she couldn't for the life of her figure out how the name had come about. It didn't much interest her why exactly anything was the way it was however, and as she entered the old worn out pre-war house Angelina took a look around her, the Legionarie closing the door behind her. The house was furnishd in a rather sparse, bland manner as was to be expected of a Centurion. As eccentric and unique - for lack of a better word - as some of the Legion's followers could be Tecumseh seemed as squared away a Centurion he could possibly be. Nothing was out of place, nothing was dirtier than it absolutely had to be, and there was hardly anything beyond what was needed. A sense of interior design was both foreign to and hated by the Legion as were most things in the post apocalyptic world they had formed in.
Starting to orient herself Angelina began giving herself a tour of the house which was two stories, though as she made her way around somewhat awed by what she saw before her Angelina dared not even draw too close to one door in particular. What was clearly Tecumseh's quarters was left alone entirely- she didn't dare approach the door - and had he been there Tecumseh would have laughed in a most pleased manner as usual. The Legion had broken yet another filthy wastelander and shown her what true fear and terror were.
Backing away from the door and heading back down to the first floor Angelina felt almost frightened, a feeling she had once thought she was unable to feel, something that had died away inside of her never again to return. She had been completely and utterly wrong in every possible way. There was fear within her and it was plentiful. Fear of the Legion, of Caesar, of all his men and what they might do- and fear of Tecumseh. In the end it was he who held both her leash and control over whether she lived or died and how either of those happened. Everything in Angelina's life was now controlled by the one horrible man she now called a husband. And she accepted it. It was now a fact of life and that was all there was to it.
Knowing exactly what was now expected of her Angelina couldn't help but put it off not because she didn't accept what the reality of her life now was but rather because it made her sick. She stumbled over to what passed for a living rom and dropped onto the couch, leaning forward her elbows on her knees, face burried in her hands. She was a Legion wife. That was to most likely a step up. Somehow it only made Angelina all that much more aware of her situation. Yet again she was painfully and horribly reminded of her position. That of nothing. She was still a slave with a different title. A woman. Still nothing more than a hunk of meat to be used up however the Legin wished, however they saw fit, in whatever way they deemed necessary and then thrown away just like the trash she was. It was all her life would amount to and she just barely avoided breaking down into tears.
Rising from where she sat after a moment Angelina regained her composure as best she could and went about what she knew was expected of her. She was a house keeper now. That was her job, her duty to the Legion. This was her reward. Something told her she would know the adrenaline fueled cruelty of the arena soon enough however. Somehow she just knew it would be waiting for her as it always had been. Angelina was nothing more than entertainment to them, this wasn't where she belogned, no matter what Tecumseh said. Angelina would know the feel of a machete in her hand once more before her life was done and over with and no amount of mind games would convince her otherwise.