Everything was silent.
The normal thrum of activity across the Mojave reminded Aerius of the pulse of life, the frantic beat of a heart as it was ripped savagely wrong a fool prey’s chest. It, combined with his duties for the Legion, was enough to distract him from other notions he did not understand. He could not understand.
But everything was silent.
Nights like this one were rare; the desert empty with little even in the name of wildlife about. Ranging back from paths long desolated by destruction and neglect the young redhead found himself pause on one of the outcroppings, green eyes flicked to land on the bright, excessive lights that burned from were he could see New Vegas all those damnable miles away. Despite Quincy’s best efforts he’d never grown to like those lights, never grown to understand and adapt to the beacon of civilization that burned on the horizon.
The thought of the dead man brought that strange welling back, a lance of pain that spasmed through the Legionary as incomprehension darted through his senses. He was not wounded. He’d checked himself over for that previously - yet he did not understand the pain that still came and went, especially when he thought of his former lover. Stupid thing, really.
All of it was so damn stupid.
Emotions, feelings, wants, needs. They got no one nothing. They got them nowhere in life.
There were still no tears. There had never been tears, not since his own days of youth torn away from his tribe and assimilated into the Legion. How could there be? He shed none for Quincy; shed none for the man that had stepped into his life and had impacted it more than he’d ever once care to even admit.
Aerius stared down the City of Hate, the place where he’d first met the only person he’d ever learned how to miss, before closing his eyes and shaking his head as he turned away. He ignored the burning of his vision, the heaviness and ache in his chest, as his focused on the easy slide back down to earth off the outcropping.. instead focusing and relishing the use of musculature, the feeling of his own vitality as his own body worked to serve his needs. He needed to stop this. It needed to end - there was much to do and little time left before the Legion marched on New Vegas, sought to claim it for their own. It would be a battle he knew he’d relish, although he knew he would likely not walk away from it alive.
A smile, brief and predatory, curled the cannibal’s lips at the thought before it died. Quincy wouldn’t have wanted this, hadn’t wanted this. Would have wanted him to fight and die from the faction that had all but enslaved him. Had wanted them to leave, to go elsewhere.
Teeth bared rapidely in a snarl in which no sound was uttered, green eyes blinking as he tore away the sudden surge of welling pain in his chest. It was done. It was over - Quin Quin was dead. Nothing could be changed. The past could be changed and he’d known there had been no future for him a long time ago.
"I will serve the Legion until I die. It was how it was to be. How it always was to be.” The young man snarled at the shadows, shoulders hunched defensively as he glowered around the still, empty area.
And the only answer was silence.
It is the way of men to make monsters…and it is the nature of monsters to destroy their makers.
Hm, hardly a flinch. I wonder… does Caesar chop off your manhood on top of stripping you of your pride and personality? Wouldn’t put it past him. That Caesar’s one sick fuck, am I right?
[Grins.] My pride is untouched by the Legion.
As for Caesar – my own opinion of him doesn’t matter. If you are so curious, female, than perhaps you should go ask him for yourself. The attempt would be comical.