#manwithafoxhead

Whatever it takes to comfort yourself, I suppose…

1. Yellow Light || Of Monsters and Men (x)

2.My Boy Builds Coffins || Florence + the Machine (x)

3.Sweet#hart || Closure in Moscow (x)

4.Heavy in Your Arms || Florence + the Machine (x)

5.Hoodoo || Muse (x)

6.Happy Together || Filter (x)

7.Hunger of the Pine || alt-j (x)

Ada was getting tired of bouncing between camps. Antos was reassigned monthly, it seemed, and his young wife was dragged along behind him. She was sixteen now, she thought - assumed - because the summer heat had cooled into a smoother fall, and her birthday was in July... As she thought, her hand moved to absently trace her collar.

God, she was tired. Exhausted, physically and emotionally, because servitude would crush even the strongest spirit, and Antos was just so nice to her. He wasn't a cruel master in any sense, but he was still her master, for all he gave her boundaries and time. Ada sighed quietly, wandering between the tents in search of the mess hall. She needed food, and Antos had taken pity on her and pointed out that if she was hungry she could always go and ask the mess hall for a meal, say it was for him - he'd never disagree.

FAR EAST MENTION MANNEQUINS - Wannabe

What she got that he wants so bad?Is her sugar that much sweeter?What does she got that I don’t have?I really wanna be her

This is a part of the Mojave that, up till now, Duchess has given a very wide berth.

She's curious, nosy, and reckless to a point most others might call extreme, but she isn't stupid. She knows there's probably some sort of prize up for the first Legionary to successfully stick her up on a cross; she's certainly written enough against them to warrant it. And down here, near the river, is thick with Legion. Contrary to popular belief, Duchess doesn't have a death wish.

But what she does have, as surreal as it is, is an invitation. To the Fort, of all places, somewhere the reporter only figured she might see someday on the off chance that the NCR actually managed to do something right for once and stormed the place. Even then she'd probably have to sneak in, but at least in that case she'd be able to be relatively sure she wouldn't be tortured and killed if caught.

She's not feeling so sure now, in spite of the crumpled note clutched tight in her hand. The entire journey down, she's been reading it over, trying to find something she missed. She doesn't trust anything about it; not the claim to amicability, not the initials it's signed with. V. I. She's sure of that they stand for, and she's just as sure someone is trying to scare her with ghosts.

The prudent would never have come this far. Better to stay in Vegas, surrounded by the NCR and House's metal flatfoots. Can't play into their hands if you don't play, can you? But Duchess knows it would just eat at her, if she didn't go. So maybe she is just a little stupid.

Somehow, walking into Cottonwood Cove is almost more eerie than it had been walking into Nipton. The reporter's eyes dart left and right behind her glasses, but she lifts her chin defiantly and continues forward, as if she does this every day. That's right, just a noted, notoriously anti-Legion journalist strolling into a heavily fortified Legion camp, nothing unusual about this. Even now, though, her natural instinct to snoop is at work, her eyes pass over everything; the position of the tents, the command building, a pen that appears to have people in it, which makes her frown harder. 

Men in Legion armor stop to watch her as she passes, but no one tries to hinder her. It seems she's been expected. It almost feels ridiculous, but the whole thing is frazzling her nerves so badly she doesn't know how long she can keep up the act. So she settles for waving sarcastically at each stony face that turns towards her, grinning wide. For some reason, it helps.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Reaching the dock, the reporter strides down it towards the Legionary standing at the end. She waves the note beneath his nose. "I gotta formal invitation to your little shindig, friend."

Likes:

With your calculating mind I feel there are a lot of things that standard soldiers do not consider that you handle. We all benefit from the work of the Frumentarii.

That same outside-the-box thinking that tactically benefits us… It keeps you open-minded, I think. Though you handle details better than most, you are not so zealous about minor rules that the grand scheme of things gets clouded.

You didn’t simply forbid Olivia from speaking with me. You humored her idea of having a dinner even. I’m not sure what to think of that really, but it is not some brash jumping to conclusions anyway.

Dislikes:

The levels of deception you and your Frumentarii will lower yourself too.. It is not honorable.

That you would carry this into your interactions with servants of Caesar? Why don’t you just come out and say your intentions? Why play games?