Know When to Fold 'Em (Closed for Obuzeti)

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“There they are~” Kara says, pleased as ever to find herself in the company of four legged friends. The dogs do not look terribly different from the nearly hairless, irradiated mongrels that roam the wastes-just better fed rather than starving. Kara tries not to think too hard on what they get fed on. They’re just cute, if hopped up, puppies to her. Particularly after spending so much time around Hrolf, who was the biggest puppy Kara had ever seen.

She wiggles her fingers at one missing half an ear. “Hey Traxel.”

The gunshot sounds and the bullet pings, skittering the twitching dogs a brief moment. “And there Vi is.” Kara notes unconcernedly. But...Vi sounds freaked out. Like…really freaked out, not just jumpin’. Hm.

"I'm pretty sure I managed to skim the cream off the crop when it comes to picking up Raiders. Your show, Kara."

“Flatterer.” Kara returns before she drops into a crouch, her attention still on the dog she’d called out to specifically, a little shake of the treat bag. “I got snacks for good boys, puppies.”

The half eared mutt sniffs the air, drops his snout to sniff along closer-and then lets Kara pet him, receiving a ruffle of scruff and scratches behind the ear that make his tail wag. Mutt jumps in close too, gets pet-and both dogs receive a treat before she stands back up, tosses a treat to the remaining two and then the bag itself to Jonah. “Pet Traxel.” She says, chipper but also somewhat serious, a glance towards the watchtower. “He’s a good boy, he’ll like you.”

And then Kara clambers up onto a car quick as a wink, utterly heedless of any danger posed by the drugged out Fiend or her rifle.

“Vi! Vi we brought snacks!” Kara calls, gesturing back towards Moray with her flag. “I told my friend all about your dogs and-”

“MY dogs! Can’t have my dogs! FIEND dogs. Meat’s for dogs, not snacks!” Kara can see that helmet wobble around some. She’s assed up, and doesn’t remember her. Or maybe did. Maybe it’s Jonah being here that has her extra on edge.

“I just wanted to visit! GnashBone and BoneGnash were doing good, and that reminded me I should come say hi to their brothers!” The wildly wobbling helmet stills a moment, and then Violet sticks more than just the very tops of her eyes over the railing, actually looks down at her.

“With friend!” Violet screeched accusingly, a gesture. “Not dog friend Kara, man friend!” Whoops, it was Jonah.

“Well, HE has a dog too! C’mon, at least let me say hi to Violetta. Is she up there with you?”

“No snacks!”

“Okay, I won’t give her any snacks!”

“No friend!”

“But he wants to see Violetta too!” Kara gestured again with the flag and a stomp, looking a bit like a deranged conductor throwing a fit. “Your dogs haven’t even TRIED to eat him. Let's all meet up together!”

Violet had set her gun on the railing as the ‘negotiation’ had started, and now leaned over it to peer past Kara and the car she stood on. Her dogs were, indeed, not eating Moray. She leaned back again, slow-and then nodded, pulling her rifle off the railing as she headed inside.

Kara turned and hopped off the car, triumphant. “Alright, audience granted.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah's not sure if it counts as that or if Violet had just recognized that without her dogs to back her up, she pretty much had no way to defend herself. As jittery as she is, he just doesn't see a point in pushing harder. He doesn't have anything to say to Violet in the first place, and she's clearly worried about him more than Kara (like most rational people, admittedly), so for once he disagrees. "You go on," he says, and slides down the side of a car to plant himself in the thin dirt. "I'll stay out here."

He's silent for a bit, then adds, "I don't have anything to offer her, and she's bone-terrified of me. I don't need to be in there. You go, talk to her. This isn't a person we need to be threatening."

Jonah wonders, idly, why she was so scared of him. There are people that frightened, but that requires a personal touch that he never forgets afterward. Dean's probably that scared, presuming he's still alive. Benny, too. He can't remember saying or doing anything to Violet in particular. Maybe he killed a former Raider leader of hers in some exuberantly violent way?

No knowing.

Inside, Violet's puttering around nervously, picking things up and putting them back down, hands visibly shaking. The needle tracks on her arms are a lot more obvious, and she's skinny in a way she shouldn't be, not with the dogs helping her hunt. She glares ferociously at Kara as she comes in, waits for the other, and nothing happens.

Finally she whirls back around and unloads and starts cleaning her rifle. "Why Kara here?" she says, mutinous. "Thought was Khan. Off other side of Mojave, everywhere, leave tracks. Here make deal?"

Her pidgin is broken. Violet barely knows how to speak.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Kara can't argue the logic in it-Violet had seemed edgy as hell about him, almost betrayed she'd brought someone other than a dog with her. Best not to press her luck-and it gives her more room to lie however she wants to lie, spin her yarns without an ill timed-but hilarious-correction or two from him.

"I shouldn't be too long."

The dogs follow after her, mill about outside as she Kara knocks out an absent tune before poking her head in. She smiles in the face of Violet’s nervousness, casually flippant, cocky, affable-the usual Kara special. “Left my man friend behind-he has his own dog to play with."

Violetta was Violet’s personal personal guard dog, vicious but aging-and Kara’s favorite out of the whole bunch. She isn’t phased by Violet’s mutinous tone or questioning-for a Fiend, it was downright friendly, and to take apart the gun-well, seems they’re still cool, after all. The red head sails in and drops down beside the curled up hound, happy to give her some pets-and think about what to say. Once they off Nelphi, back up would be a long way away for the dog trainer. She doesn’t want Vi sticking around anyway, not with Dhatri having such an interest in removing the Fiend presence from the Ruins. At the same time, that vault sucks, Motor Runner sucks, and Kara can’t blame the woman for wanting to be here alone with just her dogs. Hm...

“Here make deal?"

That was the tack to take. Kara sits crisscrossed and grins, hands loosely gripping her ankles.

“Of a sort!” Full sail ahead she sways back and forth a bit, cheerfully flippant. Yes of COURSE she’s here to make a deal-she’s always out to make deals! What sort of deal? A dog training deal, an opportunity! A great idea, the best idea!

“My Khan friends are heading further North-things are heating up, you know?-and leaving Red Rock Canyon, the Mojave for a while. I thought, ‘Gosh, my friends could maybe use some dogs up there.’”

More pets for Violetta.

“So I go looking, and I find some. Stole eight Legion mongrels, just the other day. They’re good boys, but I don’t know if they’ll be as good for the Khans as they are for me, Vi. I’m real worried about it. I don’t know how to train dogs to be good for other people-but you do! And with Red Rock all to yourself, if you want-seems like a good place to train dogs before sending them North. Not too far from Motor Runner, either.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Violet's eyes sharpen and she perks up at the thought of working with Legion mongrels, the one type of dog she's never been able to steal away. Just as important, the offer of tribe, to get the fuck out of Dodge and have people that will fight with her. The people themselves, she couldn't care about, but more guns to tell people to fuck off, that's worthwhile.

Motor-Runner she couldn't give a fuck about, though.

"Big dogs good," she murmurs, as she half-stands to peer out the window at Jonah. He's sitting down and watching Violet's dogs circle and warily sniff him. He doesn't have as much mongrel stench in him, but then he doesn't really need it. He's pulled out his big damn knife and is sharpening it idly. "Legion come get dogs? No want cross."

Her fingers rattle nervously on the half-assed table she's set up, covered with old plates and dog meat. She doesn't wash them, so everything is just slightly greasy.

But it's dogs! More dogs, bigger dogs. No one to bother her.

Her mind's made up almost before Kara responds, and now she's just biding time to see what she can get out of it, watching Kara out of the corner of her eye. It's so rare to be wanted for something, instead of having it just - taken.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"Even if they somehow heard you had 'em, I don't think they'd come for these turncoat puppies. I didn't just steal 'em," Kara's smirk broadens into a grin, the next few words tinged with glee. "I turned 'em on their masters."

The courier laughs. As with most things-she finds that hilarious. And if anybody would get it, Violet would-she had the same affinity for four legged friends. Kara stretches, comfortable, easy. She knows she's got her on the line, it's just a matter of reeling the other woman in and sealing the 'deal'.

"Anyway, Papa and everybody decided not to ally with the Legion, so no worries there. They're all brothers and sisters, and they're not down with the idea of the sisters being slaves. That's why they're heading North. You could go with or stay in Red Rock, so long as you're training dogs I'd imagine. They won't mind."

She doesn't need to check with Papa or Regis about it-they knew how she rolled and would ascribe it to some hare brained something of hers. She's one of them, after all. Papa had said so.

Some part of her feels warm. But the deal!

"I can give you half of what they gave me if you do it. That'd be like, forty caps a head. Some of that I'd have to give you in prewar bills, but it all spends about the same, right?"

It occurs to her that was 20 caps over the promised reward from Dhatri, IF they could even convince him to pay out for a removal rather than a hit. If not, they would have essentially offed Cook Cook for free. That was a joke all by itself.

The other consideration-one she doesn't bring up-is that the New Khans have been providing the Fiends with their drugs for a while now. Violet would be set up as far as that went, allying even closer like that. Kara would count that as a downside secretly, but...what can you do?

"What do you think, Vi? Can you help me out? I gotta know someone's taking good care of these fur babies, I can't hardly trust anybody else with them, not like I can with you."

This was coming together even better than Kara would have figured on.

 

[Obuzeti]

Violet laughs, hard and vicious at this. The Legion crucifies Fiends just like everyone else; knowing that they got their own, at the paws of her favorites no less, is balm. The caps are honestly more than she knows what to do with - she mostly scrapes by on what she steals from unlucky bypassers, and there's not much she can spend it on, anyways. It'd be nice to have a rifle that didn't jam, but aside from that, what would she even buy?

That's a question she can answer once she has those caps, though.

"Deal," she says anxiously, scratching at the marks on one forearm. "Dogs best dogs. When go?"

There's nothing tying her here. The dogs will come with her, and that's what matters.

And she has a job! Not a lieutenant, not Motor-Runner's or Cook-Cook's bitch, but something of her own. It's weird. Nobody does this. But nobody likes dogs like Violet, so why not? Of course other people would know she's the best with dogs.

The corner of her mouth jerks up, tiny and erratic.

~*~

Outside, Hrolf has appeared and padded close enough to survey these new additions to the doggie census. He seems unimpressed but this is normal. Rather, he has planted himself a safe two feet from Moray and stares down the other canines, and it really puts their relative size on show; Hrolf stands a full two feet higher at the shoulder than these smaller cousins, as big as a young child, but considerably longer and heavier. His coat is also - not glossier, but more full, and padded against both cold nights and teeth.

Moray glances up as Kara comes out. "Good news?"

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“Why wait?” Kara says cheerfully as she pops to her feet, a gesture to Violetta. “Take the pups and head soon as it’s dark. I’ll give you what I got on me now, and then the rest when I bring the turncoats.”

She pats around in her pockets, genuinely pleased, even happy-the familiar thrill of a heist or a prank gone right. Violet doesn’t have to die, the mongrels could be trained to help the Khans wherever they settle, and-and? She doesn’t know what else.

“I’m just glad I was able to call on the expert.”

~*~

Kara looks full of herself, which isn’t abnormal. The mouthy merc was always kind of cocky, had that trademark damnable smirk on her lips. But rather than mischievous mockery glittering in those vibrant blue eyes there’s a spark of genuine happiness, accomplishment.

“Well my two favorite pals, she says she’ll take the job!” Kara announces to both man and dog, despite Moray not knowing what the supposed ‘job’ was. She sounds like she’s on one of her stories again. The smirk becomes a delighted grin, a bit of a conspiratical feel as she drops down to look at him, hands on her kneepads. “She’s going to train the mongrels we stole for the Khans, head up there tonight. I promised her half my finder’s fee to do it. S’good deal.”

Kara winks, then offers a hand up-which was mostly symbolic given their size differences. She’s got all that wiry energy, the general feeling of excitement to her-fun.

She’s having fun, and nobody had even gotten a face full of paint or nothin’.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah doesn't care that much - he offers courtesy to everyone, but there's exactly one person anywhere that he'd change his plans for. Still, helping Violet has clearly put Kara in a good mood, and the corners of his mouth pull up at her fresh exuberance. He takes the hand up mostly as an excuse to touch her, still something he does at every opportunity, and instead unfolds from his Indian stance straight into a stand. "Collecting and protecting misfits wherever you go, Kara," he says, gently teasing. His thumb rubs over the back of her hand. "As idiosyncrasies go, it's not a bad one."

Hrolf, besides them, offers a woof.

The last one on their list is Driver Nephi, and he's apparently some moron that managed to kill a dozen NCR soldiers with a fucking golf club, which hardly raises his opinion of the NCR as a military outfit. Moray translates this as "use explosives" and once they make the trek to where the Fiend lieutenant is hiding out, he takes a moment to survey the layout: there's a small burned out building they've laid scrap metal on, and on that makeshift wall there's a handful of Fiends. Only one is walking around with a golf club. Moray guesses that's Driver Nephi.

It's a pathetically easy shot, so much so that he decides to be asinine about it. Jonah turns to Kara and says, "You know, I could just shoot him, but that sounds kind of boring. You want to go bug him together before I shoot him in the head?"

It's possible her sense of humor is wearing off on him. There's something twinkling in the back of Moray's eye like a sense of humor, emerging from long hibernation. There's no need to go fuck with this guy, it's blatantly unprofessional and it's vastly more likely that something will go wrong this way.

But why not?

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Kara opens her mouth to protest the fact, but he’s so soft and adorable she doesn’t even feel made fun of. No, he’s in on the conspiracy, and the fact that he was supportive of it makes her feel...well, good. He saw through her bullshit and he had nothing bad to say about it.

He loves her.

“So long as ideo-secrecy ain’t a fancy word for idiot and you don’t tell anybody…” Kara says with mirth, starting them on their way without letting go of his hand, the slight swing of it falling perfectly in rhythm of that lazy, pepped saunter of hers.

It occurs to Kara that the dangers of bleeding heart altruism-not that she does that! She super doesn’t do that-were lessened if you were in the company of someone as big and mean as Moray.

~*~

All sorts of things flit through Kara’s brain as they approach and then survey the scene before them. Violet had been her only allowance for antics on this job, least until they hit up that centurian-but she’s never mind numbingly bored in his company, so it doesn’t bother her much.

Still, it sure would be funny if-

“-that sounds kind of boring. You want to go bug him together before I shoot him in the head?"

Kara’s head swivels and she stares at him a moment, eyes wide-looking from him to Hrolf and back again.

“Does the desert got sand? Because yes, of course I do!” He must be sick or else she’s corrupting the shit out of him, and if Kara was buoyant before-”Oh man, I’ve been thinking up all kinds of trouble the whole way here, too.” Now he’s gone and done it-Kara the troublemaker, at your service.

“He was looking for me this one time? But I blew the summons off ‘cause, you know, I don’t like mini golf-but that was months ago. Can you imagine if I waltzed in like I was just now getting around to seeing what he wanted? That’d be hilarious, ‘specially with what I hear about his inflated, dumb ego.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah looks incredibly amused. "I'll give you ten caps if you somehow manage to work mini-golf into a comparison to his dick size. He'll probably try to kill us for that, but it will be incomparably hilarious."

There's a - strange lightness in him, now. They're about to go provoke a noted mass murderer in the worst way they can think of, along with his entire band of drugged-up crazies. It should be stupid, but the reality is that Moray has existed in boredom for so long it had ceased to bother him. There were things to accomplish but this did not mean he found them fulfilling, just that they were objects worthy of accomplishment; like a carpenter learning to sculpt. Objectively, someone enjoys it, or at least the completion of the task. What he wanted has never been an issue.

Now - now.

He wants to see Kara laugh. The rest he can figure out as he goes.

The Raiders see them coming, but the casual pace of the pair approaching seems to throw their usual viciousness askew, and the raider dogs totally failing to so much as bark keeps them cautious. One of the mixed breeds, some kind of blocky bulldog thing, slinks up next to Kara and butts its head against her leg, but the others stay distant.

"The fuck's this?" One Fiend says, and it's one with the golf club. "I don't know you."

Moray nods in recognition of the successful English. It's an accomplishment for a Fiend. "I wanted to annoy you."

Nephi stares back, strung somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

"I'm not very good at it," Moray admits. He hasn't blinked yet, or looked away. He just stares, dead-eyed. "Kara's better, but I thought I should make a token effort before she pisses you off."

Moray considers this for a moment, then adds, "Your have terrible acne," before he nods to Kara, passing the initiative.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Kara can’t believe he’s really on board with this. She’d spent so much time antagonizing and trying to provoke a reaction out of the implacable mercenary only to later find herself thrilled just to wring a smile-and then some-and NOW he’s considering trouble for its own sake, improvisation and entertainment in what would otherwise be an open and shut case of a headshot.

She’s over the moon, is what she’s saying.

Her lazy saunter was further accentuated by her hands being clasped behind her head, smirk on her lips and an amused survey of their surroundings as they waltz in. Of course, that oh so cool approach is interrupted when she gives the friendly dog a happy pat, predictably in love as always.

The exchange is nothing short of hilarious-Moray explains the joke, stares at him-and then breaks off with an insult. It’s decidedly adorable, but Kara regains her flippancy quick enough as Nelphi’s face twists even tighter into a disbelieving scowl, his eyes flicking down to her as his fellows close in a little around them.

“You’re Kara? Kara Walker?”

“Yep! One and only, you’re welcome.” She starts, propping her hands on her hips with a slight head tilt as if he might be going senile. “You sent for me, remember?”

“That was fuckin’ months ago.” Nelphi glanced at Moray as Kara blew a pink bubble, then back to the redhead, his irritation growing.

“Eh, I was busy.” Kara says with a shrug, a bored roll of her eyes as she roots around in her pockets, produces a pack of gum. She offers Moray a stick before extending the offer out to Nephi too. He flashed it a look of disgust and might’ve slapped her hand away, had Kara not ‘psyched’ him out with a “Oh wait, that might be my last piece!” With immense amusement, withdrawing the arm.

“Anyway, I figured you could wait. You don’t usually have anything all that important going on, right?” She popped the stick of gum past her lips, a grin. “Overcompensating aside, I mean.”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” His hands tightened on the golf club, eyes narrowed and a bit shifty between the pair as she blew a bubble.

“I ‘unno,” Kara said around it before it popped. “You’re wielding a big boy’s 9 iron when you’re packing a putter.” She elbowed Moray and made a crass gesture to her own groin with a snicker. “Nelphi can only play mini golf, if ya catch my meaning.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Moray takes the gum. He chews it once. Then he just stands there, awkwardly and deliberately, staring holes in Nephi's head until he looks back at Kara to escape the death gaze. Between her provocation and his own obvious lethality, he doesn't really know how to respond. Then she calls his dick tiny, and Driver Nephi swells with rage. "You stupid bitch, you think you can walk in, months late, and talk shit about me like that?" he seethes, reaching for the handle of his infamous golf club and taking a step forward.

Moray shoots him in the face. The crack of his pistol firing is already echoing by the time anyone but Kara has even registered him holding a weapon (her quick draw is just as fast as his own, curiously) and then he pumps four more rounds into Nephi's collapsing body before it hits the ground. Driver is very thoroughly dead before he can regret making the threat.

Then Jonah holsters his pistol, and nods gravely to Kara. The rest of the Fiends are frozen, half flinching back for cover, half reaching for the own weapons. It won't help any of them; Moray is completely confident he could kill them all before anyone could accomplish something useful, and that certainty seeps out of him like a stormcloud, heavy and choking. "Does that conclude this business interaction?" he says, studious.

He looks down at Nephi's dead body for a moment, then nods at the club. "Claim the departed's assets. Unless anyone would like to direct me to a will that Nephi laid in preparation for his final day."

Jonah pauses. No one answers.

"Good."

He chews exactly once, then makes a face. "What flavor is this."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

The dogs don’t react in any way that mattered towards the pair and the Fiends stymie- the bulldog mix actually growls at the one nearest him, which has the strung out raider backing off a step.

“Whoa now Moray, right of conquest first-”

Kara neatly steps over and plucks the driver up from where it’d been dropped, then back beside him, focused on the surprisingly pristine and well maintained weapon-but also the raiders in her peripherals. “Bubble gum flavor, of course! I also have grape, I think, somewheres-you don’t like sugar?” Just an empty headed redhead on a lark, per usual. She sees several exchange bewildered looks, and it’s hard not to laugh.

Kara looks at the head of the golf club a moment, smirks-and then shoulders the weapon proper, laying clear and obvious claim to it. There was an ace of Spades engraved on the head of it, apparently the source of her amusement.

“See, that was just plain unfriendly, boys. Here I was, arguing that Fiends could make decent neighbors-wasn’t I saying that Moray?-and then Nephi here had to fly off the handle like that, middle of a friendly conversation. Tsk-tsk.” Kara shook her head as her eyes trailed across the faces of those assembled. With their leader dead and Moray’s clear lethal capabilities, none of them are in a hurry to make a move. Nephi wasn’t their friend. Raiders don’t really do friends. He was a fast, previously vicious fuck who got himself killed in the usual way. Whatever his previous feats, he was a weakling, now. Kara knows how it goes.

Kara blows and pops another bubble, a thoughtful chew before she turns to address Moray with a dramatic shrugging sigh.

“But what can ya do? Guess I was wrong.” Isn’t she just so put out?

She glances back to one of the burlier Fiends. "What'd he want anyway? Never did say."

"He was supposed to send you to Duke."

Kara laughed. "That guy again? Steal ONE Neon sign and-ha, whatever. Anyway-" She drops her dramatics and the empty headed act to lay it out for them, opting to make life just a littler easier on Dhatri and the NCR, if it meant he could focus on the Legion.

“The ruins ain’t no where for you guys anymore, got it? You stick close to that vault of yours and don’t set up shop out here again.”

“Says who?”

“Uh us, doy.” Kara jerked a thumb to Moray, the threat behind the order. “My partner and I got a permanent gig keeping the ruins clear of you types.” She taps the nine iron against her shoulder casually, that cocky smirk. “Jus’ business boys. Money talks, you understand. You can tell Motor Runner I’d hear out a counter offer, though." Wiggle room. "In the meantime-get your shit and get gone, Cook Cook and Nephi ain’t getting any deader.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Moray has never heard of a Duke, but then his exchanges with Fiends are typically limited to gunfire. The way it's phrased makes him think of Devon, all that time ago, and he nods at the confirmation of something he'd been considering - for all of her wild, playful nature, Kara had been set on a course for self-destruct just as surely as he had. Their communion had been mutually beneficial, at least. Sometimes he wonders.

That said, he looks the burly Fiend in the eye and jerks his head towards the ruins farthest from the NCR camp. "You want to listen to her," he says, quiet. "I'm not interested in arguing."

It's the quiet threat under his words that get them moving, grumbling but power-walking all the same, gathering up the few things they have. The group sets out in a disorganized clump for another ruined building just visible on the horizon much like the one they're leaving. Jonah experiences a moment of deja vu, which is strange, because leaving survivors is something he doesn't do. Maybe it's just the sensation of his world tilting on its axis.

"Not my usual style of problem solving," he admits, and glances at Kara. He's smiling, just a little, the new kind that's recognizable as what it is rather than the the unwilling contraction that had been its substitute before. "But worth doing. Think two out of three's good enough for Dhatri? We can probably scoop up his centurion and call it a good day's work."

If for nothing else, Jonah's looking forward to that just so he can tell the Legionnaire that he killed Dog Hat, whoever he was (didn't he say a name? Moray doesn't remember). He looked like an important guy.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"Mine either-a lot more wheeling and dealing goes on when I'm operatin'. 'Because I said so' usually isn't an option on my lonesome. Don't worry though, I won't go and get lazy."

The raiders are heading out at a good clip, Jonah seemed relatively content, and Kara's pleased they didn't have to make a bigger mess out of these dummies.

She steps back away from Nephi-the dead Fiend hadn't received so much as a glance from the red haired merc aside from the theft of his club-and smiles at him. "I would say so-two dead, and one heading for greener pastures-hopefully it frees him up some." Kara quiets before blasting ahead again, a puff to her chest. "I'll get us paid for Vi though, don'tcha worry. We convinced her to leave, and that ought to be worth something to him.". It'd offset what she had paid the Fiend, too-though Kara is mostly amused by her self swindle. The courier gives that familiar tug of finality to the front of her jacket, starts back towards the encampment again.

"Sounds good my hardworking friend! And hopefully the dude's just a run of the mill asshole rather than-well.". Kara hesitates. "Not going to lie, Dog Hat kinda...and it's hard to do! But-". She waves a hand dismissively, shaking the thought off and stopping short of admitting to anything.

"He was just a major fuckin' weirdo, you heard him talk. I've dealt with -alot- of psychopaths, but that guy? Damn. I'm glad you killed him."

A shake of her head before she brightens back up some. "But hey, we see if we can get anything outta Dhatri's prisoner he's too good to torture and then, and THEN?". Her brows rise and fall as she gives him a suggestive look, more fitting of a perverted old man than sultry seductress.

"You, me, and Gomorrah's silk sheets.". Kara laughs, doubly so on remembering his drier than dry expression when Betsy had uttered the come on.

 

[Obuzeti]

"I have a deep and abiding suspicion that the only thing that could put you down is boredom, so laziness isn't an option," Jonah replies. He sidles a little closer as they walk and his hip bumps into Kara's - lightly, because the difference in their bulk meant that he could put her into a wall if he's not careful. "You're not wrong about that guy, though. He was . . . I recognize that look. He enjoyed it, all of it. World's a better place with him gone. That's all the thought he deserves."

Moray considers the proposition of badgering a Centurion into revealing anything and shakes his head. "I don't know that I want to do any worse than the Legion does. Hard to top crucifixion. Maybe we go check Dog Hat's body if no one's moved it, check for identification, some kind of a symbol or badge? Convince the perp we're Legion deep agents? It'd probably be easier than trying to talk him to giving anything up the hard way."

On the other hand, taking Kara to Gomorrah and having a private room to themselves again is a thought with some tang to it. They hadn't really had any privacy since taking off from the Vault most of a week ago, and while they usually slept tangled up with each other for warmth against the desert's cold nights, the presence of a whole troop of dogs kind of made it awkward for anything else.

"Careful what you promise," Jonah says, a wry twist to his mouth, though it's easy to tell his attention's perked. His eyes aren't glazed over with thought anymore, for one, and now he's looking dead-on at Kara rather than scanning the horizon, raptorial interest fixated on her. "I do collect my dues."

All that said, he leans down and nuzzles into her hair, sweaty and dusty as it is.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Kara had turned it into a bit of a dance move, a breathed ‘cha-cha’ and all, a dazzling, mirthful grin.

It vanishes on Dog Head though. He’d unsettled even her. Just...gross. Made her feel sullied somehow, just with his voice. And all of those people up in smoke and strung up on crosses...

”To walk into the jaws.”

Fucking Legion.

“I don’t think I’d get away with it. Or want to, blech.” Kara says, eyes narrowing a fraction. Moray though...and there’s Hrolf. Could he bullshit though? She can bullshit for ages, but- “Caesar doesn’t use women for jack shit. Just slaves and whores. Or dead, they get uppity.” She blows and pops a bubble. “That’s less talent on his side though, so I guess it ain’t all bad, in a fucked up silver lining sorta way.”

"Careful what you promise,"

Kara’s eyes flick over, mischief and charm.

"I do collect my dues."

A bit of a thrill runs down her spine, but Kara just grins at him cheekily, the flirt. She exhales when he draws her close, and all told-she’s really thinking about it, now.

~*~

“I just want to know anything he’ll tell me-and I guess I want Dhatri to know what he knows, too. You know. Side benefit. And caps of course.” Kara waves dismissively. “Always gotta spin some of those.” The bulldog mix was following along a ways back, apparently abandoning whatever owner he had in the Fiends to toddle after Kara, tongue lolling out. Hrolf hadn’t paid him any mind, and Kara was bound up in ‘strategizing’, talk talk talking, turning the Centurion over and over in her mind.

“Vulpes Inculta was a die hard believer, you said. And he did like what he’d done, the twisted fuck. The Legion’s totally a not-so-secret club for sadists…smart sadists like him.” She pops a bubble. The gum was taking some abuse. “Raiders and gangs are usually stupid, kinda rabid, ya know? They die easy, got no staying power cept when someone really mean comes along, for a little bit-and even then they’re only as strong as what they got to work with.” She’s been thinking about Maara a lot lately, and she doesn’t even know why.

“Caesar and his ilk though, they put ideals on it, laws-all that noise. But they can’t all be like him and Vulpes, AKA Dog Hat McGee. They’d eat each other up, you know? Pissing contest after pissing contest.” Another bubble, eyes narrowing further.

“The tribes Caesar’s swallowed up? He didn’t get them all in conquest. Some, like he was trying with the Khans-some he sweet talked over. Some he beat in other ways, like the Hangdogs. They surrendered after he done threw their dogs on the fire. Like, holy shit. And you think they don’t remember that? You think all of those dumbass soldiers are there because they want to be? I don’t.”

“Maybe...if we’re lucky, maybe this guy they got, he’s one of the press ganged rather than a Vulpes. And if he is, I can get him to talk to us. If he’s not-well. He’ll get about two ‘prolifigates’ in before I deck him.”

She honestly wouldn’t know what tack she’d take until she was in the room with the guy. Her mouth was a good weapon all by itself, and her luck another. Moray is right-if the guy didn’t want to talk, if he really was a die hard Legionnaire- they can’t top crucifixion.

“All this damned thinking and politics-” They’re passing patrols and getting into camp proper, but that doesn’t stop Kara from swinging her pack around and withdrawing the clear and obvious bottle of whiskey.

Dhatri hadn’t even gotten the chance to turn around before she slaps the golf club on the same crate with the pile of damaged, to be salvaged gun parts. “Fore!” And then, now that she has a free hand proper-she uncaps the whiskey and takes a swig of that, catching sight of their stocky tag along off by some sandbags.

His name is Bruce, she decides.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah shrugs. "From my understanding of it, Caesar believes he can make the world a better place but thinks he has to conquer it first, and anything is permissible in the pursuit of that. The leading edge is the worst thanks to his slave armies, but the territories further back are pretty quiet."

A grimace works its way across his face. "That said, dipshit never planned past his own death. If he goes down for any reason, all that hits the wind, because all the Legionnaires he's created have no idea how to do anything but kill shit. It's an entire generation of murders, and whatever his plans are, he's never trusted anyone else enough to share the vision. It dies with him, along with probably half of everyone he's brought in."

It's a grim future, but the most likely one. What else would slave killers do but kill, once the leash is loose?

"I doubt they're all like him," Jonah admits, "But remember, this one's a centurion. He's command rank, and he'd have been vetted by Vulpes and Caesar before he ever got that rank, much less having held it since. Everything I've heard says that a centurion needs five years experience to be considered for the position. You might be able to talk him into turning, but be careful about anything he feeds you."

By that time, they've made it to Dhatri, who catches the tail end of the conversation and nods. "If you can flip him, it'd be a huge thing," he says, with a shrug, "But I'll take what I can get. This, for starters."

He picks up the golf club with satisfaction, flipping it over to check for the slightly dented driving wedge, which had been driven through multiple NCR skulls. "That's the real one, alright," the major says, appreciative. "You get any of the others?"

"Cook's dead. Too damaged for trophies," Moray says, reverting to his monosyllabic nature. His eyes lid over, bored. "Checked for Violet, but she's gone. Must have heard the fighting and took off."

Dhatri clicks his tongue. "Well, two out of three ain't bad. Think she's gone for good?"

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"Well, two out of three ain't bad. Think she's gone for good?"

“Pft, probably, if she was yellow bellied enough to take off like that, dogs and all.” Kara’s flippant disregard was believable enough to be fact-if Moray hadn’t seen her earlier happiness in the ‘swindle’, even he might have wondered.

“Anyway, I don’t think any of those crazies are coming back, not for a while.” A second swig. “Moray wiped two of the meanest they got in a lazy afternoon. Ain’t like the bench is deep for leadership, not in that outfit, and Motor Runner’s got no intention of leaving that cocoon vault of his, no way Jose.”

Saying stuff like that didn’t help Dhatri’s impression she was either too friendly with or maybe even a former Fiend-but she had always found that suspicion hilarious, so no big deal.

Kara capped the bottle back up with a jaunty flourish, tapped it on the crate like a gavel.

“Now you promised me a chat with mister serious earlier, so!” Right, them ‘experiences’ she had said she was after, earlier. “Where ya showing him hospitality at, and our dog can come too, right?”

 

[Obuzeti]

Dhatri considers that and gives it a pass with a nod, relaxing against a nearby crate. "Yeah, that should just about do it. I'll pass notice to the quartermaster about your bounties and give you credit for the two you did. If you ever happen on Violet, Moray, pick up the sleight and let me know, I'll give you the full bonus for the set. Can't give it to you know - that's the breaks."

"Fair," Moray allows, expressionless. "Is there anything else before Kara amuses herself with this prisoner?"

Dhatri glances down at the golf club Kara had offered him. He hefts it in one hand, and then proffers it to Moray. "Break this in half for me, would you?"

Moray takes the club and snaps it over his knee without so much as a blink, the echo of breaking steel ringing through the camp loudly. A couple of soldiers glance over, at at least one begins to laugh. A bubble of conversation ripples out.

"That'll do," Dhatri says, pleased, and takes the broken handle back, tossing the club end into a nearby garbage bin. "Pleasure doing business with you, Moray. Brig's on behind me, just tell them I sent you. Kara, work some of your magic on him, if you would."

"Aa," Moray hums, an acknowledgement somehow even more brief than words, and then turns to lead Kara towards the makeshift brig the NCR had managed to put together. Once they're out of earshot, he murmurs to Kara, "Any specific plan I should know about? Or should I just stay quiet?"

This is her game. He can bullshit with the best of them, but that's based on the fact that no one can read his straight face. Emoting as anything except himself is straight impossible for the man.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Dhatri has Moray bust the trophy, and it palpably raises morale then and there. Kara can see why. No more skulls cracked with that thing, messes for the purpose of messes. She decides she approves. “Sure thing, Major.” She pipes with a jaunty, left handed and incorrectly angled salute-before flouncing off after her much larger companion.

”Or should I just stay quiet?"

“If he’s press ganged, sure.” Kara murmurs back, a nod. That cocky smirk is on her lips and those vibrant eyes are looking around in empty headed interest, her body language casual, upbeat. This was entertainment, she’s just out to amuse herself. Classic Kara stuff. She even sloshes the bottle of whiskey back and forth at her side.

But she’s really thinking hard about what he said earlier.

“But pretend we get in there and turns out he’s nobody fun to talk to?” She gives a little flick of her fingers to Hrolf once she catches sight of him sniffing around what looked to be an old burn barrel. It was like he’d been watching her, at least out of the corner of his eye-the mongrel trots over immediately, and gets a ruffled scritch behind his ear.

“That’s a different story. You told Vulpes I was a contract and he believed you easy. So this guy...this guy we take a minute and let him think...let him come to realize-” The best poker face comes from pretending you really do have a good or a bad hand. The best, most convincing lies are the ones you pretend are true, at least for a minute. “That you’re in deep, and I’m your cover. The loud mouthed distraction, you know.”

It clicks into place same as ‘the deal’ with Vi had-except this was grim and not at all entertaining, not really. But if it helped Dhatri at all, good. And hell, she’s always wanting to know things for their own sake anyway-what she’s gathering pieces with this shit for she doesn’t know, but better to have them than not, she figures.

She stops outside the door, slipping a new piece of gum past her lips. "I'm a very good distraction, too." She says with a grinning wink.

 

[Obuzeti]

Hrolf sniffs the bulldog mixbreed, literally pushing around the smaller dog with his muzzle - the size difference is tremendous, it looks like it could ride around on his back - and henceforth ignores it in favor of Kara-scratches. As is his wont, Moray himself ignores all canines entirely and focuses on Kara's plan instead. "I know enough Latin to get by," he says, a little cautious of trying to sell anything, "but no callsigns or secret signals. He'll have to stumble into it on his own. That said, I'm willing to try it."

He knows personally how good she is at distractions and deceptions, but that's not his forte, so he just raises an eyebrow at her and then walks through the door into the interrogation room. He can't do it quite as effortlessly as her.

The centurion on the other side looks ragged, even moreso than how Legionnaires normally appear; they've taken all his armor, so what's left is the ragged cloth they all wear, and darkening circles under his eyes from stress and lack of sleep. He sneers at them as Jonah walks in. "More profligates to educate? Caesar grants me many opportunities."

Moray lets out a single, soft snort, and nods to Kara as he takes a seat. He doesn't otherwise respond.

Silus's eyes flick to her. "Even worse," he dismisses, and then starts to just ignore her.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Yeah, nope-two sentences in and she already knows he’s not worth a goddamn. Kara fails to be impressed. It’s too bad their plan doesn’t leave any room for decking him. Oh well.

Down comes the bottle of whiskey with a satisfying clunk and slosh of liquid, Kara remaining on her feet and leaning on the bottle a little. The attractive, if currently dusty red head smirks at the him, utterly unphased by his dismissal or his sneering imperialist air. Her fingers unwrap from the neck of the bottle with a flourish.

“Well they were GOING to send a pretty boy in-we all know how you Legion fellows are, death penalty or no death penalty-but they couldn’t find one with soft enough hands.”

Kara laughs. As far as opening shots go, she decides it’s a good one. That particular factoid she’d learned from Jimmy, a one time Legion slave now living in Westside.

She lets her smirk stymie slightly as she gives Moray a glance, putting juuuust a bit of worry in it-as if she was checking for either condemnation or approval- before her eyes flick back and narrow a fraction, smirk widening into a manic smile. “You’re in a right spot though, ain’t cha? Getting caught like that-Some Centurion you are. What were you going to educate us in again?” She blows a pink bubble.

Hrolf had taken up a spot in the corner, calm and seemingly disinterested. Poor Bruce, meanwhile, had gotten left just outside the door. She’d toyed around with whether he’d add to the ‘cover’ or not, but decided probably not, in the end.

She pops the bubble obnoxiously, considers the contents of her various pockets as she tosses out something else.

“Oh wait, it’s Kenturion, ain’t it? Guys just don’t know how to talk right, I forgot.”

 

[Obuzeti]

The slur turns the centurion's face red - accusations of homosexuality in the Legion are a capital accusation, and proof is a good way to die. That said, his eyes are flinty and hard, not outraged. "Trust a whore to know about whore's business," he says, the words sharp and hard. "The Legion punishes pederasty with death. As it will me for my failure. I am Legionnaire, but I am no weak profligate for you to mock into submission."

His jackal's smile turns vicious. "You have paraded yourselves through here, shouting and beating me and wheedling, but Lanius himself held my feet to the fire when I swore my oath, and I did not break."

He lifts one foot, and indeed, long and ragged burn scars mark the soles of his feet, where the flesh had boiled and healed badly. It must be agony for the man to march, much less sprint, especially in the shitty sandals the Legion prefers.

"He must have been proud," Moray says, eyes dark and hooded.

"It was expected," Silus sneers, above flattery.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Somebody else might have had the sense to pretend shame at the harsh verbal slap, given she was pretending to be said Legion whore-but Kara had never been ashamed of anything in her life, and wouldn’t know what it looked like.

She remains amused, blowing another pink, perfect bubble. She got him. Maybe not good, but she got him enough he was paying attention to her, talking instead of staying mute. Name dropping even, whoever this Lanius asshole was. And the fuck kind of ritual was that? Malcolm’s gang used to make their ‘fresh meat’ recruits cut off their left ear-Kara was dead certain it had started out as a joke and then got serious somewhere, lost in translation. Either way-Kara doesn't react to the scarring. Old news, as if she'd seen it a dozen times before.

"He must have been proud,”

"It was expected,"

Kara pops her bubble.

“Endurance is one thing,” Kara says with laughter to her tone, chewing on her gum. She glances to Moray again-and then back to the Centurion, the manic grin shrinking to a simple curve of her lips. Her wide eyed, empty headed amusement dims, vibrantly colored eyes more watchful and weighing as her voice drops an octave. “But use is quite another, isn’t it?” Her eyes narrow, decidedly unkind. “Question is...are you now a liability in addition to being without use?”

Blood in the water and her tone has become dangerous-but it’s not Kara carrying the edge here. She’s just the mouthpiece.