He doesn’t seem surprised by the reply- only a glance made to the legionary before he bowed his head.
"It does not matter anymore what happened to me. The radiation in my flesh will kill you- for me, you are nothing but a dead fool now. No monster, no equal."
"You will not fight?"
Perhaps that question was an odd one - unexpected - but it had caused Aerius to pause, confused yet again as he tilted his head and stared at the mutated man. "You will not try to claim your own life?" Another. "You will go mindlessly into your own destruction?"
It was almost as if he were talking about himself too, in a displaced way.
Quincy had wanted such things for himself, but look where all that had gotten him anyway.
Cottonwood cove. Wonderful place, it was. Sparkling, clear waters free of radiation. Sandy beaches. The sun always shining. The incompetent strung up to crosses. The tribal girl too great pride in her handiwork, and even grew excited when tasked with nailing up even more of the unfortunate. Something dark and twisted ran through her mind, but only her closest confidant could relate in some manner.
Hazel eyes darted around and down the winding road, eyeballing limp bodies and skeletons—all needed to be disposed of and replaced. That she could do with ease, minus the struggles she had with those who resisted. In her peripheral vision, victims to be sat huddled in a holding pen—typically used for slaves. She could spot out which would be compliant to their untimely demises, and which would cause trouble. And trouble was why she’d always been handed an escort of some kind.
Recruits, Frumentarii, slaves … all had accompanied her and witnessed first hand how brutally one’s life could come to an end—though most had the pleasure of doing so long before. This time, a brazen redhead had been sent with her on the four-hour long journey to the cove—tongue sharp, teeth even sharper. For the entire trip, she’d been wondering whether or not he’d take one of her arms off, or a leg … or her head. He looked even more savage than she did, and may have been so. She knew nothing of him.
She wouldn’t speak unless absolutely necessary.
Focused on the task at hand now, padding up to one of the dozen crosses littering the stretch of road, she unsheathed her machete and began knocking sun-bleached bones down from the first. Brittle, most simply splintered once they fell to the ground. Once all was clear, the effigy was set to be taken down, and a new man put in the sacrifice’s place. This—is what she needed assistance with. Quietly, she motioned for the other to join her in removing stones from the base, all the while screams and pleas echoed behind the pair.
The first victim, and not the last.
This practically reeked.
Aerius knew he wasn’t mentally… normal. Even for him, whatever oddity that he considered normal. The monster could not come to terms with the event that had oddly shaken his world, a part of him refusing to accept the blatant truth - Quincy was gone, dead, and there was nothing he could do or say to change this. The unit he typically worked with had wisely noted the change and had kept out of his immediate range - just in case - but there was nothing but sighs of relief when the redhead had been assigned to escort some foolish wench to Cottonwood Cove for slave duty.
It rankled. His pride was a limited thing at best but this rankled - there were others within the Legion that could play babysitter to some female. It took much for him to not turn on her and rip her apart as they traveled - she was just a female, a slave, he could have always made the excuse that the fool tried to run - so at best he mostly ignored her. There was one benefit - she did not speak, did not waste her time and breath with heedless prattle. For her sake it had been wise indeed.
Viper green eyes darted, scanning the area after they finally reached their intended target easily. Cottonwood Cove. Just another place in the Mojave he loathed - a place with too many others in cramped painfully close together - but he ignored that factor as he prowled over towards the woman when she finally motioned towards him… intending to reach and toss the bones she knocked down to the side out of their range. They’d be moved later, unceremoniously tossed for the wildlife to finish what had already been started.
Perhaps it should’ve bothered him. Perhaps if the young Legionary remembered many of his own tribal beliefs it would have - but these were not warriors. They were cowards, weak, pathetic… their hearts deserved to remain beating helplessly in their chest until they finally blissfully ceased.
If anything it was the screams, the pleas, that brought a cruel sneer to the man’s lips - a curl of lips that showed more tooth than necessary as he shot a glance to the whimpering bastard. Maybe, just maybe, this could be fun.
Maybe, just maybe, for one damnable miraculous moment he’d be able to forget him.
"The super mutants are sterile, so they must capture humans and mutate them manually. Typically, they do so by injecting humans with the FEV virus— however, to create centaurs, they are more likely to dip a human into a vat of the material. The methods vary- or so I have been told."
Eyes followed the Legionary, but his body remained relaxed. After a moment of consideration he sighed and closed them.
"I see. Then- you are planning to kill me?"
"And that is what they did to you?" If anything the Legionary sounded bored - really, it was a bunch of nonsense anyway. Super mutants and centaurs were both lesser creatures anyway, plagues that would be wiped out when the Legion took the Mojave and beyond.. or so Aerius firmly believed in any case. He knew no better.
"Yes." there was no hesitation in that answer - he did plan to kill this fellow monster before him. There was no anger, no hate - he simply was acting on his own base nature, a predator, and hunting and killing were equal parts of what he was. "I am hungry and you will suffice."
It [ h u r t s ] every day —
the absence of someone who was
My muse is not always nice.
My muse can and will kill.
This is in character, and in no way, me against you.
I will warn you.
I will explain why my muse behaves like that, if it is appropriate to, timing and plot wise.
I will attempt to give you a way out of it.
But I will not change my muse’s character for you.
If your muse pisses off my muse, and my muse wants to attack and kill yours, there is only so much I can do to ensure that my muse is still in character. If you do not want your muse to die, please discuss with me.
But if you keep pushing my muse, despite being warned that death is what my muse desire for yours, please face the consequences with no negativity.
"No- my mutations are the result of the Forced Evolutionary Virus- the same that creates Centaurs and Super Mutants." He shifted, limbs curling into each other in an attempt to find a comfortable position.
His head tilted to the side slightly at the others’ answer/
"Are you a monster because you are of Legion?"
A flicker of confusion darted through bright green eyes as they studied the mutated man, head tilted slightly to the side. What? Scientific terms went well above the primitive man’s head and without Quincy or Acanthus there to explain it to him it really only served to be frustrating at best. Shifting his weight the young Legionary ranged in a half semi-circle around the creature, muscles tense and ready to drive him forward in attack. "Forced Evolutionary Virus?" There was a disbelieving note within his voice - anger and hatred coloring it.
"No." A pause, wavered and brief but gone so damn quickly. "I am a monster because I am me."