10-10-2015, 08:26 PM
Only a few minutes had passed since the Courier walked past that lucky, old and broken down wood sign in front of the entrance to this Camelot place, and Six was already quite impressed. All around, she could see various onlooking citizens wearing no more than cheap brown and white clothing, all different shapes, sizes and colors. Especially of the like she hadn't seen before back on that dusty old rock she called Earth once.
Things seemed peaceful as she walked across the one, big road in the middle of all these carefully handcrafted buildings lining the city streets. Even a few folk riding on horseback quickly galloped through every now and again. Needless to say, it was quite the sight, considering horses were extinct where she had come from.
All of this seemed so surreal to the Courier, it was unbelievable how she managed to keep on reading those signs leading her way to yet another path of death.
The very moment she thought of such a thing, Six stopped in her tracks for a short moment, slowly beginning to realize what she put herself into. After all those horrible and heart-wrenching experiences in the Mojave wastelands, the Courier still found the time to play her part in a tournament of battle for sport. The real kicker was how fast it reminded her of the Legion's slave arenas, to which she had liberated countless times before.
Six almost gagged, had not she had been reassured by the thought of what Omni said to her so shortly before all of this even happened. If she could remember correctly, he explicitly stated she should not fear the concept of death, for rebirth was always possible. Though she had her doubts, if all he said was true, she could also count on his word that there were others like the Courier in these realms. Adding it up, hopefully killing somebody wouldn't have as much weight.
Besides, if all of this did end up looking like a Legion slaving party, then no doubt she'd turn every single last one of these twisted old-timers on their heads with a few .308 caliber bullets. People who could even try to justify doing such a thing definitely deserved their privileges of life taken away from them in the Courier's book, and no doubt she's done it before.
For now though, she continued to walk through the rowdy, music-filled streets of Camelot, letting her mind wander in the meantime.
After taking a painfully long time getting to the city hall, the only thing Six was grateful for at this moment was the fact that the destination of the Colosseum she was supposed to be signing up to was marked on her Pip-Boy, considering she even remembered passing it only a few moments ago.
Sighing, the Courier began backtracking to where she had saw that hulking structure of stone and metal, pacing herself in the process. It took a bit of time, but as soon as the Courier got to this Colosseum again, she finally saw the booth to sign up at, seeing a few rather colorful individuals lined up in front of the desk.
It was certainly a welcoming thought to note that the Courier would soon either be spilling the blood of, or would be spilling blood because of these people, all sarcasm intended. Groaning, Six slowly walked to the short line of "Primes," as she heard from the lady at the desk ever so faintly. She could only assume she looked intimidating enough, since a few puzzled eyes were already on her at the moment.
Silently getting to the back of the tiny line, Six crossed her arms, noting back to where all of this reminded her of the Legion a bit too close for comfort. If there was one thing the Courier could assure herself about it though, it was that at least the Legion pretended to be warriors in battle.
If there was anything to learn from those displays of foolishness however, it was that the Courier must treat all her opponents with at least some notion of respect. Looking at the few Primes in front of her, Six could only hope that respect was enough to convince them not to stab her in the back as soon as this tournament ended.
Things seemed peaceful as she walked across the one, big road in the middle of all these carefully handcrafted buildings lining the city streets. Even a few folk riding on horseback quickly galloped through every now and again. Needless to say, it was quite the sight, considering horses were extinct where she had come from.
All of this seemed so surreal to the Courier, it was unbelievable how she managed to keep on reading those signs leading her way to yet another path of death.
The very moment she thought of such a thing, Six stopped in her tracks for a short moment, slowly beginning to realize what she put herself into. After all those horrible and heart-wrenching experiences in the Mojave wastelands, the Courier still found the time to play her part in a tournament of battle for sport. The real kicker was how fast it reminded her of the Legion's slave arenas, to which she had liberated countless times before.
Six almost gagged, had not she had been reassured by the thought of what Omni said to her so shortly before all of this even happened. If she could remember correctly, he explicitly stated she should not fear the concept of death, for rebirth was always possible. Though she had her doubts, if all he said was true, she could also count on his word that there were others like the Courier in these realms. Adding it up, hopefully killing somebody wouldn't have as much weight.
Besides, if all of this did end up looking like a Legion slaving party, then no doubt she'd turn every single last one of these twisted old-timers on their heads with a few .308 caliber bullets. People who could even try to justify doing such a thing definitely deserved their privileges of life taken away from them in the Courier's book, and no doubt she's done it before.
For now though, she continued to walk through the rowdy, music-filled streets of Camelot, letting her mind wander in the meantime.
. . .
After taking a painfully long time getting to the city hall, the only thing Six was grateful for at this moment was the fact that the destination of the Colosseum she was supposed to be signing up to was marked on her Pip-Boy, considering she even remembered passing it only a few moments ago.
Sighing, the Courier began backtracking to where she had saw that hulking structure of stone and metal, pacing herself in the process. It took a bit of time, but as soon as the Courier got to this Colosseum again, she finally saw the booth to sign up at, seeing a few rather colorful individuals lined up in front of the desk.
It was certainly a welcoming thought to note that the Courier would soon either be spilling the blood of, or would be spilling blood because of these people, all sarcasm intended. Groaning, Six slowly walked to the short line of "Primes," as she heard from the lady at the desk ever so faintly. She could only assume she looked intimidating enough, since a few puzzled eyes were already on her at the moment.
Silently getting to the back of the tiny line, Six crossed her arms, noting back to where all of this reminded her of the Legion a bit too close for comfort. If there was one thing the Courier could assure herself about it though, it was that at least the Legion pretended to be warriors in battle.
If there was anything to learn from those displays of foolishness however, it was that the Courier must treat all her opponents with at least some notion of respect. Looking at the few Primes in front of her, Six could only hope that respect was enough to convince them not to stab her in the back as soon as this tournament ended.