(Untitled)

[stars_survivor]

Who: Chris Redfield and Albert Wesker
When: Tonight
Where: The base of the clocktower.
Rating: PG-13? Nothing too bad.
Warnings: Possible cursing. Other warnings to be determined as the thread continues.
Summary: A meeting has been arranged. Now to follow through...

This had to be the single craziest thing he had ever decided on. Hands-down, flat-out

Comments

[iamwesker]

Wesker's gaze tracked the other man's movements, his poise relaxed although he wasn't fully in his mind. While his memory was faulty, Wesker knew enough to not forget that Chris was very likely dangerous to him. Hadn't that Oracle awhile back predictated that the Dragon would crash on a Field of Red or something of that nature?

The silent observation under those alien eyes continued for a few moments longer, Wesker silent as he thought over Chris' words. Not what he had expected, but not unwelcome either.

"Leon Kennedy thinks it's best I never remember anything," he said finally, the light dimming out of his eyes to leave them in the utter darkness that ruled beneath the Plate. Above it, there would have been stars and perhaps a moon, but down here, there was nothing.

"I remember the occasional bit or piece, never anything important. The dream we had, I didn't recall much of that beyond knowing Sergei was there and that I had the disk. I remember little of Spencer Mansion. I have a report of it all written down that I'm sure you and everyone else has hacked by now to read. That is all I know. I take it you would like to fill in the blanks? I know we don't like each other because I betrayed S.T.A.R.S., but if we were friends, family, lovers, or whatever before that betrayal, I don't know. I suppose it must be frustrating to be fighting and hating an enemy that doesn't remember you beyond the occasional flash or seeing your name written down."

The small crook of a smile that came to his lips was without humour or mercy, there before it had begun.

((What Wesker is referring to is: http://iamwesker.livejournal.com/7719.html#cutid1 I can't remember if I mentioned it before or not. Most everyone has hacked it by now.))

[stars_survivor]

Chris knew more than well enough not to try anything. The last time he had looked his former captain in the face, they'd be locked in the middle of a fistfight. A fistfight that Chris would have lost if it weren't for his usual last-second moment of luck.

He shifted uncomfortably from one fott to the other. "We weren't friends. You were always distant from everyone. Always off somewhere else or shut up in the office." He smiled grimly at the memory. "You were... someone I looked up to. Someone I trusted."

Chris never trusted authority easily. It was what had gotten him discharged from the Air Force, after all. "Which is what made what happened at the mansion even worse. That you could kill my friends, my coworkers so easily..."

"I'll never forgive you for that."

He laughed at Wesker's last comment. "Are you kidding? It's infuriating."

[iamwesker]

Wesker stepped to the side, his gaze sliding along the few blocks of stone near the clock tower. Brushing one off, he took a seat on it. The day had been long all in all, and he didn't feel like standing anymore than was necessary. That old gesture came again as he patted down his pockets, drawing out one of his ever present energy bars. Here in Purgatorium, he had needed to keep his energy up or fall into a hibernation state. While it hadn't been that way before in his world, Wesker had no idea of that.

Taking a bite, his gaze locked on Chris once more. "Hero worship then. That would explain your obsessive behaviour and drive better."

Cold and clinical detached, Wesker treated the entire situation as if it were a specimen under his scalpel to be dissected and understood. There was no emotional attachment for him in any of it. Then again, there probably hadn't ever been any emotional attachment consider how casually he had treated the murders before.

"You mean the Spencer Mansion incident, where the two S.T.A.R.S. teams were killed except for a few lone survivors. I sent one and led the other."

Wesker nodded to that, finishing off the bar and pocketing the wrapper. Here he was in Hell of all places, and he didn't litter. Strange the turns his mind went through.

"Chris, were I able to regain those memories, would that be better? Leon fully believes it would make me a worse monster. Granted, most people in Purgatorium already put me on level with the boogeyman. But if you could, would you see them returned to me? Is your revenge worth that?"

Sorry for the delay! My Internet's being intermittent.

[stars_survivor]

Chris's stomach grumbled slightly when Wesker found the energy bar. Chris ignored it, of course. He wasn't abut to show weakness in front of anybody. Least of all Wesker.

The clinical way he spoke was infuriating in and of itself. Chris was someone driven by his emtions, his beliefs of what was right and wrong. Maybe that's what landed him here; he couldn't say for certain. But Wesker's tone rankled him nonetheless.

"You're already a monster," he said bluntly. "I know that, Leon knows that, probably everyone here knows that a little bit." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and frowned. "But..."

"I have honor. I... I want a truce. You leave Purgatorium alone, and I'll leave you alone." He smiled, but there was no mirth behind it. It was more of a grimace, really. "And maybe I'll tell you a little bit about home."

I know that pain. My does it all the time.

[iamwesker]

Another bar was drawn from his pocket and tossed towards Chris. Either Wesker had good hearing or he was in a sharing mood. Knowing him, the former was more likely than the latter.

The Tyrant's head tilted thoughtfully as he watched his former teammate. The red of his eyes brightened, the slit pupil widening.

"I imagine they do, yes. However, a truce is something I am unable to give you at present, Chris. I would like to know, yes, but not at that price. Every story needs an evil force, and how can people repent if they don't know the horrors of evil. I have tried here to be one of the 'good guys'. Twice. Twice I was rebuffed. I am no one's dog despite them putting an electrical collar on me."

Pushing to his feet, Wesker stretched, glancing away from Chris and to the rest of the sleeping city.

"I am unable to do that."

At least it's working now for us?

[stars_survivor]

Chris fumbled for a moment but managed to catch the bar before it hit the ground. Catching things in the dark was harder than you might think, especially without any starlight to help.

"Playing the villain, huh?" Chris shrugged and sat down on a stone block not too close by. "I'm guessing I can't change your mind, can I?" He sighed and shook his head. "...I feel sorry for you."

Which meaning the phrase took on, either piteous or sarcastic, he wasn't going to explain.

"If you're going to keep on doing things like this, you realize I'm going to stand in your way." Here Chris smiled for real. "It's my job now, you know?"

Mine is in and out again... stupid thing.

[iamwesker]

"Sorry? For me?"

There was pure confusion in Wesker's voice at that. Sorry for him? Who would ever do something of that sort? The darkness was full around them as he glanced back to Chris, lips set in a thin line of distaste. There was the rough grit of the soles of his shoes against the ground and a rush of air as he moved with that freakish speed. He tried to stop bare inches from Chris, head lowered to attempt to be nearly nose to nose with the former S.T.A.R.S. member.

"Sorry for me."

His hellish eyes flared to life, his flat reptilian gaze locked on Chris' face.

"Chris, don't feel sorry for me of all people. I am freer here than you will ever be," he said quietly, voice cold and even despite his closeness. "I may not be the man you looked up to before. I may be better or worse. As for your job, I imagine you are quite good. I trained you after all."

((Your call, of course, if Chris would let him get that close or not or if he'd stay still while Wesker was speaking.))

Aaw, I'm sorry. D:

[stars_survivor]

As fearless as Chris had been acting up until that point, Wesker's sudden approach made him flinch. He barely stifled a yelp and recoiled a few inches away from Wesker's face. "Y-yeah. Sorry for your state."

Oh, he was startled. And he was decidedly not making eye contact. That brought up the memory of their first reunion. Of being strangled while his sister was in danger hundreds of miles away...

"You trained me, yeah. But only in the basics of being a cop. The rest, I learned myself." That much was true; Chris had gone into the mansion blind and came out with a lot more knowledge on how to fight Umbrella's monsters.

"Freer than I will... what do you mean by that?"

No worries! It happens.

[iamwesker]

"Do not be sorry for me."

It puzzled him as to why anyone would pity him. He was faster and stronger than any of them would ever be. Chris reaction to his speed was proof enough of that. So why? What was there to pity him for? That he couldn't walk the streets of Purgatorium? That he didn't feel as they did? What was there?

Ever the scientist, Wesker mentally took down each of Chris' reactions to him. Some were easily understood, but others were as enigmatic as the man's words. The refusal to look at him was the most annoying. Wesker preferred to see people's faces when they addressed him. Those who didn't usually feared him too much to make eye contact. But that wasn't the case here, was it? Nothing except for Chris' first jump at his approach bespoke fear.

A gloved hand rose, Wesker trying to grasp Chris' chin and make the other look up at him.

"Look at me, Chris."

There was some secret here that he wanted to know, needed to know. Was it connected to that 'trust' that Chris had of him? A refusal to accept who he was now versus whatever mental image Chris had held of him back when he had been his superior? It was a mystery Wesker didn't want to leave unsolved if he could manage to make the other look up at him.

[stars_survivor]

He really did pity him. Chris wondered how much he would lose if he died here. What would he lose first? The memory of his parents' faces? the code for his locker back home? He never wanted to test it for himself.

He looked back, definace in his eyes. "I'm looking," he drawled. "It doesn't look any different from the first time I saw it. From when I punched you in the face." Now that had been a moment of pride for Chris. Useless, yes, but he had decided t fight for his life at the time. "Sorry, but I don't tend to look monsters in the eyes."

A little punchy. Defensive, maybe? Chris wondered sometimes just how much of Wesker's time as captain had been an act, and how much of it was really him. Whatever the case, he knew one thing. He was never going to trust Wesker again.

Especially not now.

[iamwesker]

He was pleased when Chris met his gaze, a rare and barely there smile coming to the Tyrant's lips.

"Much better. Did you? I don't remember that. It must have been quite the moment of rebellion for you. I take it this was after you realized that I had those you called teammates killed?"

There was a low and insidious tone to Wesker's voice, one that signaled him digging for something. Chris may have heard it before when Wesker had a rookie who had royally fucked up on the ropes or a suspect that he wanted information out of afraid and in a cornre.

His fingers tried to tighten on the other's chin, drawing closer to where they were at kissing distance. Despite where he tended to be, Wesker's gloves smelled of cinnamon and freshly cut grass. How he came by either of those in Purgatorium's dark tunnels was anyone's guess.

"From a man you admired to a monster. Are you sure that I am that still? Or is it too difficult for you to imagine that man you called 'Captain Wesker' behind this?"

[stars_survivor]

"The Captain died almost ten years ago." Chris's voice was blank, carefully schooled into sounding matter-of-fact. "Whatever you are now, you aren't the captain anymore." What was he? He would never ask.

Freshly cut grass? The smell made his mind reel in confusion for a moment. There was grass down here? Then he realized how close they were and grit his teeth. "You've got three seconds to back out of my face before I punch you," he snapped.

"And yeah, it was after that. When you attacked me when I was looking for my sister." He would never reveal what happened at that meeting. How close Chris had been to helpless.

How Wesker was slowly strangling Chris to death. And all the while, Chris knew that his sister was in danger, waiting for him to save her.

[iamwesker]

"But I am, Chris," he said, pronouncing the other's name as if it were an exotic chocolate on his tongue. "I am Captain Albert Wesker no matter what you believe, or rather, try to tell yourself."

That sliver of a smile grew at Chris' words, Wesker remaining close enough that the poison-seeming light from his eyes illuminated the other's cheeks. The pupil thinned again as if taking in the details of the other's face. He nodded slowly, the grip of his hand tightening fractionally before loosening and falling away. Stepping back from Chris, the Tyrant's attention stayed on Chris a minute longer before he looked away. It left him vunerable to an attack, or at least as much as he could be should Chris choose to lunge at him.

"I do not remember that unfortunately. Strange being hated for something that is nothing more than words on paper."

[stars_survivor]

Chris sat there for a moment, quietly. If he was thinking or merely planning when to move, he wasn't saying. There was complete silence. Then he broke it. "All right then, Captain. If you're still him, then I feel no guilt about doing this."

He jumped to his feet and lunged for Wesker. He wasn't trying to knck him over or anything. No, he was just taking a wild swing for his head. If he missed, he missed. But he was rapidly losing control of his own outrage and emotional ground.

Wesker was pushing every single right button when it came down to it.

((Feel free to have him dodge the punch if you want! Chris is kind of fighting in the dark. Literally, even!))

[iamwesker]

Wesker started to turn back towards Chris as he spoke, catching the other's movement out of the cornre of his eye. Speaking of which, they made excellent targets in the dark. Experience had taught him this before, but he hadn't thought that Chris would actually go for him. These were the problems of not having a full memory of someone.

It was a damn good thing Sergei himself wasn't here.

Chris' fist caught him right on the point of his jaw and lips, crashing against his face. Scarily enough, Wesker's head didn't even snap to the side with it, taking the blow full on. Lifting his head, Wesker's tongue flicked out to gather up the one droplet of blood that formed. Chris had dropped a pallet of iron girders on him before without a broken bone or wound. Whatever the T-virus did for Wesker, it did it well.

"Feeling better, Chris? Or do you need to do that again?" Wesker asked, sounding bored more than hurt. "Come on, Chris. Show me why I should think you're worth my time. You whine that your leader failed you, the man you trusted. How did you fail me before that?"

His words were acidic, meaning to bring out Chris' fury if possible, get that mental wound lanced to let the poison drain out. If Chris happened to spill some information at the time, so much the better.

[stars_survivor]

For a moment after the blow, Chris felt deeply proud of himself. After everything that he had tried, a punch managed to make Wesker bleed. He hadn't expected any reaction to the punch, to be honest. He had dropped a group of pipes on Wesker's head, only to see the man climb back up without a scratch.

That last comment stung, though. No, not stung. It burned. "I never failed," he snarled as he rubbed his knuckles. "You said it yourself once." Here Chris eaggerated Wesker's own voice. "'You're one of my best men.'"

Okay, so he had said that before leaving Chris to be killed by Alexia Ashford. But Wesker didn't need to know that.

Chris took another swing at Wesker. How could he just stand there? He had to feel the punches, didn't he?