(Untitled)

[iamwesker]

Who: Wesker and whoever drops by
Where: By the fountain
When: Today
Summary: Wesker is wandering around, looking sketchy as usual.
Rating: TBA

Comments

[iamwesker]

Wesker's head lifted a fraction of an inch, a breath drawn in much like a wolf scenting the air for prey. The monster that looked like a man turned his head enough to face the other man, Chris reflected back in the black lenses of his glasses. The set of his mouth didn't change to show pleasure or any other quirk of emotion.

"Christopher," he said conversationally before turning back to the part of the fountain he had been studying.

A yawn came from the side of the fountain as the black furball with stubby legs and big clumsy paws known as Janus came ambling around. A tailwag was given to Chris as the direwolf wandered over to them, stopping on the way to gulp down a passing by bug. None of the deadly grace and viciousness the direwolf had shown a few nights ago was to be seen now. The creature was now puppy clumsy, plunking down at Wesker's side with all the grace of a drunken water buffalo. His tongue lolled out and the visible blue eye gazed up at Chris with another tail-thump.

"I am looking at the damage or the lack thereof. When a person hits another person with a blunt object, it's habit to tighten their grip. They know from experience that there is going to be the inital impact and recoil. I do wish Claire's murder weapon could have been recovered. I am assuming they did the one used to murder Stark."

Wesker didn't question Chris showing up where he had requested. If one went by appearances, Wesker seemed to have been expecting the other man. Crouching down, Wesker absentmindedly ran a hand between Janus' ears, studying again whatever he had been before Chris' arrival.

There was a decided lack of fear with Chris' approach despite the fact that if there were anyone in World's End dead set on putting a bullet in his head, it would Chris Redfield. It was debatable whether or not anyone else had more of a right. Wesker was silent as he stared at the brickwork, letting his mind work. The last time he had seen Chris in their world hadn't precisely been Russia, a bit of information he didn't let on.

Standing up, he dusted his gloved hands against each other. A half-turn towards Chris revealed that he was armed. At his side hung the S.T.A.R.S. issue M92FS Samuri Special. His Killer7 was against his ribs in a holster. The gods themselves only knew where Wesker had gotten his old gun from the S.T.A.R.S. days or if he had kept it on him so long that it was brought over with him. With his eyes shielded by his sunglasses, any expression he had at being face to face with Chris was hidden. If he knew or guessed what Chris' reasons for coming were, he didn't say.

Perhaps he really had thought there was no other outcome to this situation besides that Chris would show up when he asked him to, no other conclusion that could be reached.

"Show me where Claire died," he said shortly.

[dragonism]

Observant was what would have most accurately described Chris' expression amidst a bundle of feelings as he came to a halt not too far away. Arms crossed, he stood his ground, waiting for the other with as much patience as someone like him could muster. Unlike Wesker, he was never very good at the 'poker face' game and tended to wear his feelings rather readily. It was no wonder that his expression was currently difficult to read, but "observant" definitely would have been a good sum of the picture. Because, he was. Despite the nip and burn of hearing his full name spoken by that voice not over a radio being unnerving at it was enraging, the elder Redfield couldn't help but have his curiosity get the best of him. He never really had gotten to see Wesker that night, just a quick glimpse here and there through the fog in between arguing with Alex and those monsters engaging... and, well, he wanted a good look. And what he saw was not much different from what he remembered back home, or really, what he would have expected if they were still back home and now stuck in some Purgatory bullshit hell.

The only real distraction that pulled the younger man away from the other was the presence of the direwolf and its puppylike tendencies for the day. Really, it was cute and something he'd never have thought to have found hanging around Wesker. In fact, inthe short time he'd spent with the animal, Chris ventured to say he even liked it. Then again, once upon a time he'd liked Wesker, too. So, he guessed everything was subject to change.

But, as quickly as Janus had pulled Chris' attention away, Wesker pulled it right back when he spoke again about the murder weapon. Speaking of it, Chris did remember seeing it at the crime scene as he looked around when initially talking to Leon, but hell if he knew what happened to it after that.

It was funny, Chris realized, how calm the older man was in light of this meeting. Despite initiating it, Chris hadn't actually said he was coming, but Wesker didn't seem the least bit surprised. Did he know him that well? That Chris wasn't going to irrationally pull anything, at this point, if he could avoid it? (After all, killing Wesker here was indeed, pointless, just like Wesker had mentioned of him not so long ago. Claire coming back had proven that in cold hard truth for him.) Or was he just that confident should Chris be stupid enough to pull something? (Okay, so Wesker was armed. Well, so was Chris. And anytime, anywhere Chris was willing to take Wesker on, but deep down he knew the other had gained an advantage over him by sacrificing his humanity. That wouldn't stop him from engaging with the other, but hell if it didn't make confrontations a little disheartening from the getgo, no matter what kind of cocky firsthand appearance Chris put on. It wasn't cockiness-a feeling that he'd be definitely able to avenge his comrades-that drove him to hunt Wesker anymore. Not after Antartica. It was a stubbornness that wouldn't let go. An obsession that wouldn't settle.)

Guess it didn't matter why Wesker was acting so calm, in the end, though. Since, he really had no reason to act otherwise.

As Chris stared forward at Wesker, he did his damn hardest to try and see something-anything-past those lenses now that the other was looking at him. Nevertheless, try as he might, he was only greeted by his own reflection just short of scowling back at him, suspicion tensing through his body at the command. Something about showing this person where his sister died didn't settle well with him. No, something about being told by this person to show them where didn't settle well with him.

That's why he was here, though. "I'll show you where Alex found her," Chris finally relented, shifting his weight was he moved from his standing position to turn and start walking. And that's exactly what he'd ultimately do assuming no hiccups in travel: done without another word, leading Wesker down the same route he'd run a few nights prior before finally encountering the scene of the crime. He'd seen a lot of fucked up things in his life; been involved in a lot more fucked up things, too. For whatever reason, though, just being back here made him itch for a smoke. "Here."

[iamwesker]

If Wesker were troubled by the past, he didn't show it. The disguise of his black lensed sunglasses never turned away from Chris despite the head-on gaze. A there and gone again twist of his lips in the suggestion of a smile was all he allowed to escape before they started down the path towards Claire's deathsite.

Janus was a strangely silent canine. He didn't bark, whine, or make any other noise as he trotted along at the side of the two men. He would be at Wesker's side for awhile before moving up to Chris'. The pup would look eagerly up at Chris before racing off after a drifting snowflake or two. If a bug crossed his past on the crust of the snow, it was easy prey.

When they reached the place where Claire had died, Wesker finally drew off his sunglasses. A slight wince narrowed his eyes against sunlight that reached them. The B.O.W.'s eyes hadn't changed since... too long ago. They were still fiery red with the snakeslit pupils, an inhuman feature set in a deceptively human face.

"Here then," he said unnecessarily.

The first emotional response of the day fled across Wesker's face, visible if Chris was quick enough to pick up on it. The slit pupils narrowed slightly, a white flush overtaking the Tyrant's lips as he studied the broken in sewer grating. The bars were thick as a a two-finger span all the way around. Whatever had broken it had done so with brute force.

Wesker crouched beside it, the two side of him that were trying to tear apart going to war.

Let it go. Ignore it. Tell Chris to fuck off and go on!
Look at this. See what's before you.

Wesker fingers touched the broken and bent in bars of metal. Blood clung to them, crusting and matted on the metal.

"Damn."

Wesker cursing was a miracle in and of itself. His fingers moved down the grating to where it hadn't been destroyed. A finger slid over one of the bars lazily. When he pulled, the metal stretched deceptively like taffy, giving under the strength until it broke. Pushing the edges in, it looked just like the busted in area on the other side.

[dragonism]

Chris, unfortunately, was doing a hell of a damn good job not paying attention to Wesker for the moment now that they had entered the scene of the crime. Instead, he was taking the opportunity to look around, observing where he'd seen that boy randomly show up and then disappear into the fog before being replaced by that pyramid head monster. Even though it had been only a few days, and something not quite out of his range of experiences, the entire ordeal had seemed so surreal that he found himself almost questioning himself if it had even really happened. If not for having had Alex and Wesker there for further proof, he may have started to doubt. In addition to taking in such details, Chris turned to watch Janus and his little escapades within the area. It wasn't that Chris didn't care what Wesker was doing, he just didn't want to deal with watching him right this second only to be completely and utterly confused by whatever it was he was looking for and doing.

Which had often been the case back in their S.T.A.R.S. days. Maybe Wesker thought of him as observant, but Wesker himself was on a completely different level with things like that than Chris was; one that the younger man didn't even attempt to try and compare to.

At least, not in that arena.

It was only when the tyrant cursed that Chris turned his attention fully on him, shifting and moving over the small distance to peer over Wesker from his standing position with a resounding "What?" He'd never admit it, but if he'd been here alone checking this scene out, there wouldn't have been much hope for a good conclusion to figuring the puzzle of the evidence out. As he watched in silence, Chris blinked at the result of the other's actions. On one hand, he was suddenly jumping to conclusions in the back of his head. On the other, he wasn't sure what the hell that meant or the point that Wesker was trying to make to himself by doing that.

"And this means...?" Chris asked, unable to help himself. Sure, he could think of a world of things, but why assume when the guy who was doing it was right there doing the action just waiting to be asked?

[iamwesker]

If Chris looked, there was a deep cut in the shattered remains of what had been a paved road. It would go for a bit beyond the length of a man's stride. Then there was a dip where it had pressed deeper with the next stride. The line continued unbroken until it reached where the fight had broken out. Other marks dotted the snow and pavement where the spear had hit, where the Great Knife had crashed down, and where his own bullets had ricocheted off that metal helmets the things had worn. Spent rounds glinted in the snow when the weak sunlight played over them.

Each footstep the two things had taken was sunken slightly into the asphalt, the prints bigger than Chris' own.

While aware of Chris moving behind and to the side of him, Wesker hadn't paid much attention to him despite the fact that Chris could have easily put a gun to the back of his head and pulled the trigger. Even when Chris was at his back, he didn't look up. The thought simply never occured to him. Wesker relied far too much on Chris' sense of honour to not do something that... well, Wesker himself would have done. It was too easy to fall back into his S.T.A.R.S. era mode when in his lighter aspect, more apt to be the man instead of the monster. In that time, a pointman's place was watching the captain's back.

"This means that I was physically capable of killing Claire. I've done it before, but I remembered doing it then. Alexia wasn't around to, Alfred can't bend metal, and those that can here are few and far between. One of the demons may have, but they care little about any of that. The Remnants and Sephiroth couldn't have bent metal like that from what I've seen."

Drawing his hand back, Wesker crouched there, staring thoughtfully at the Claire-sized hole and the smaller one he had torn into the metal.

"It's one of my tunnels, and that doesn't make sense. I wouldn't do that."

Tilting his head back some, Wesker glanced up at Chris. Not exactly Chris' most attractive view.

"What are your thoughts?"

In other words, Chris had just been put back to S.T.A.R.S. sounding board.

oh i'm back sorry \o\

[dragonism]

His thoughts?

Chris pursed his lips, refraining from the Are you fucking kidding me? that wanted to spill from his mouth. Was Wesker really asking his opinion on this? The very idea of this feeling even remotely like the old days was completely foreign to him, nevermind feeling like the old days with someone like Wesker. Still, Chris prided himself in the fact that he could hold his tongue better than in his younger years and this personality of Wesker's really did make everything so much easier. It was almost possible to temporarily put aside the-

-no, no it wasn't. Well, no one could say he didn't try.

"My thoughts?" Chris repeated, looking down at the other before shifting his gaze to look down at the scene and study it a little better. He had quite a few in all honesty, but which one did he believe was about as baffling to him as anything else. Sure, it was quite possible that the answer was staring him right in the face. But, then again, since when were things so simple? And yet, wasn't half the problem with life that people often times over complicated the simplest of things?

"I've got a few," he admitted reluctantly after a minute or two of silence, still not sure which of the many he was leaning towards. The fact not many could bend metal like Wesker made the possibility for a copycat more difficult, but if there were gods involved, who was to say? "But, if I was to narrow it down on this information alone, I'd say either someone is setting you up, somehow, or..."

Chris moved, coming to crouch down near Wesker for a better look. "-you're a regular Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde case."

He paused, not sure if he wanted to leave it on that note of technically inadvertent accusation. As easy as it was, the law always was innocent until proven guilty and hell if Chris was going to go run his morals into the ground over Wesker when he wasn't acting like a complete asshole. "Ada wouldn't have video taped murdering one of our own, either. So maybe someone is just a really shitty copycat."

Oh, hell. "I think the important question is; what do you think, though? You're saying you wouldn't do it, so you must have a thought?"