I Love Legion; Episode One

Caesar beckoned Arcade onto his lap. Now, this was an incredibly common occurrence, but the problem with it was that, this time, Caesar wore nothing but his incredibly furry feather boa. It was lucky for Arcade and Vulpes both, that it barely covered a certain part of his anatomy.

"C'mere Arcade, I have a special present for youuu." He batted his eyelashes, waiting expectantly for his personal doctor to 'attend' to him.

Arcade continued his stare like he were a Brahmin. "...Oh joy." He remarked, quite flatly.

Vulpes snorted quietly, though his expression remained quite neutral.

"You should have been here for our last New Years party, profligate," he said, a hint of condescension audible in his voice. "I won't bore you with superfluous details, but you have nothing to complain about."

His gaze switched to Caesar, as painful as the sight was. "Shall I fetch the, ahem, 'present' you asked to me prepare for the profligate?"

"Yes, hurry up, Vulpes, honestly, do I pay you to just stand here and guard me?" He asked, crossing his arms like the big grump he truly was on the insides. He looked to Arcade, rolling his eyes. "What does a guy have to do to get a good manservant around here, amirite?"

He elbowed Arcade, smiling like the sparkly princess he was truly not on the insides.

"...You don't pay him." He remarked, frowning only deeper. The man was an idiot at times, and yet such philosophies.

"You would do well to learn your place," said Vulpes cattily, glaring at Arcade. "You are speaking to Caesar, not some common profligate associate. Crucifying you would take less than two minutes--I've timed the scenario in my head repeatedly."

Despite his irritation, Vulpes quickly left the tent. He returned a minute or so later, holding a package wrapped in brown paper.

"I hope the girth is sufficient," he said with a straight face.

Caesar smiled widely, taking the package from Vulpes and passing it to Arcade.

"Sit on my lap, then open it." He replied, a slight blush spreading across his cheeks. It was like a schoolgirl, giving a present to a crush.

He frowned, perplexed, then hesitantly obeyed, expression unchanging as he opened the box. This could not be good.

Inside the box was a cake, but that wasn't the surprising part. It was the fact that the cake was adorned with what could only be described as several penises sculpted out of icing.

"I wouldn't eat that, were I in your place," said Vulpes darkly. "Caesar was quite specific about a...special ingredient. Something he wanted inside of you, I believe he described it."

"Vulpes Puppydog Inculta!" Snapped Caesar; you could tell he was serious because he was using Vulpes's totally canon middle name. "You apologize to Arcade and tell him you were just joking right this instant."

He stared down Vulpes, a stare that had crowned him Caesar in the first place. Once not even Vulpes Puppydog Inculta could match.

Arcade stared into space as always, frowning softly and quite angrily into the distance. This man was an idiot. A complete and total idiot.

Vulpes frowned, trying to hide his confusion.

"...But Caesar, I instructed them to bake the sexual tool into the cake myself. Just as you commanded."

"You did what?! Arcade, sweetie, don't eat the cake~ It's a trap by Arcade I mean Vulpes~" He sighed dramatically, attempting to grab Arcade and force him onto his lap at the same time.

This plan is perfect, though Caesar.

Arcade frowned harshly, being dragged into the lap of the strange, older man. "...oh. Pleasant." He spat, frown not even slightly changing.

"Hold your tongue, profligate," said Vulpes, mildly jealous of Arcade's position but at the same time not.

"Caesar, if you are displeased with me kindly say it out loud. I tire of these strange accusations."

Caesar wrapped his arms around Arcade, promptly kissing him on his neck.

"Shut up Vulpes, can't you see I'm busy??????"

A full bodied shudder coarsed through the blonde man--and he groaned audibly. Not good, not good.

Vulpes made a low groaning noise of his own.

"...Do I have to be present for this?" he asked, glancing to the side. It was a painfully awkward situation, to say the least; even worse, Vulpes knew he couldn't harm either of them. Solving problems was so much harder when crucifixion wasn't an option.

"Yes." Caesar replied. "I need you to hold my boa when I take it off. If it got dirty, I'd have to crucify you."

He laughed.

"No, seriously."

Then, he turned back to his cutie pie Arcade baby, nuzzling his neck.

"You smell like oranges."

Arcade shivered and made yet another groan, frowning and furrowing his eyebrows further. ".........why me" he muttered, quiet and hesitant.

Vulpes held out his hand, attempting to keep a straight face. After years of practice, it wasn't difficult; still, something about the way Caesar touched the profligate proved significantly irritating.

"Please hand it to me and I will place it with the rest of your clothes," he said in as respectful of a tone he could muster. "That way, I can do more useful things with my time than stand around."

Caesar removed the only thing left keeping Arcade from feeling an incredibly awkward lump on his bum, and handed it to Vulpes.

"Now, Vulpes, I need you to follow very specific instructions, can you do that?" He smiled at him condescendingly. "I need you to take that, and go pluck more feathers from my pet eagle, Chernaboob, and then add them to the boa. Okay?"

"As for you Arcade, I think you know what you need to do."

(I watched that cheeky video

I wish I hadn't)

Arcade slumped slightly, wincing at the sheer idea. "....dear lord."

"...Chernaboob," repeated Vulpes. It wasn't a question so much as it was a statement of confusion.

He glared suddenly at Arcade. "What have you done to him?" he demanded. "You are supposed to be healing him."

"Vulpes! Bring me Chernaboob! I will feed it your liver every single day." He giggled at his own totally candid reference. "Seriously, Arcade, get on your knees."