What's Chris doing? He's out to go get himself some food!
Okay, so he's actually out for a walk. A long walk over to the Target to get himself some more of those noodle bowl things. He figures they might be good for trade with other people.
If he sees anybody, that is. As it stands, he's ambling along, minding his own business. But then somebody crosses at the intersection a few hundred feet ahead. Somebody wearing black.
Chris pauses in mid-step. And then he follows as quietly as he can. Time to go say hello to an "old friend".
That's not a bad idea! Chris is quite the entrepreneur.
It dawns on Albert that he's got a tail rather sooner than it would have in the past. Not Chris' fault. . . he's just more sensitive.
He considers shedding his tail, but he's far too confident for that, and he might be able to spin a confrontation. So he puts down the basket, leans against a sturdy wall, and waits quietly for Chris to catch up.
He's just standing there, looking lazily superior.
Hey, you do what you can with what you got. Besides, Chris thinks everybody's tired of Spam by now.
Chris continues along as quietly as he can, but then he just gives up and moves along as normal. Stepped on broken asphault and gravel included. He even starts whitling a tune. He looks as unperturbed as can be.
But Wesker can probably tell that Chris's heart rate just spiked, along with his body temperature. Oh yes, he's not happy. And he's surprised.
Hm, smells like confrontation. He can't kill him; not here, not with an obvious trail. He could try to make it look like a Magog encounter, but he knows better than to think he can fool everyone.
No. He'll watch for a better opportunity.
"I don't understand why that confusion always seems to take place with those of us who are of any use.
"You've been well, of course. . . using your common sense, for once."
Yeah, somebody might catch on that Chris didn't die via Magog. Probably Buffy or somebody else well-armed and competent.
"Shit." Chris is staying out of arms reach, thank you very much! He's also looking like he just saw a bus drive by with an ostrich in the driver's seat. Wearing a sombrero. He stares at Wesker, half-expecting this to be a hallucination.
"...I always use my common sense. It's why I'm still here. But you know that." He glares before crossing his arms. "So... when did you crawl out from your grave?"
Hallucinations don't smile slightly at your idiotic staring, Chris. "I've been out here for quite some time. I lived out here alone in the early days, if you recall."
Yeah, that might hurt, getting punched a lot by Hellboy. Ouch.
A hallucination definitely wouldn't be that snide. It's Wesker, all right. Chris puts one hand on his gun (hidden in his pocket). "I'm not asking how you're surviving now, damn it. I'm asking how you're here now."
"I've no idea why she'd say that, Chris. I've been outside," Wesker recaps. This is why he was such a good leader. He's so very patient, and always made sure everyone was on the same page.
"Uh-huh. Sure." Chris looks at the basket of dirt. "Been busy working, right? Trying to help humanity and what-not?" Why yes, he is being snide! How did you know?
"You bastard. I knew this would happen sooner or later."
"I'm always working. You've never been able to apply that focus of yours to the larger picture. You could accomplish something, perhaps, if you had that ability.
"--what?" Wesker looks between him and the basket. "It's only a basket."
Chris snorts. "Forget it. I work just fine as is, thank you very much. I don't need your help, if that's what you're getting at." He's dead serious, but when is he not when dealing with Wesker?
"Uh-huh. Right. And I'm the Queen of France." He takes a step towards the basket, intending to look closer at it. "So what is it this time? Killer geraniums? Lots of Plant 42 seeds?"
"No. Just my leadership. But that's an observation, not an offer."
When you're absolutely humiliating your mortal enemy, tone is important. You must state the obvious and do so in a tone reminding each of you just which was a lab researcher at eighteen.
"I'd rather die than work for you ever again." Woah, that tone of voice is downright hostile. Looks like you hit a raw nerve there, Wesker. Nice going!
"Dirt? Probably trated to make plants into human-eating menaces." Chris examines the basket, squinting suspiciously. "Helping people's never been your style. Nor is leaving innocent people out of it."
"Mmn. Noted." There's the faintest glint of white to his smile this time. "Pity--that was the time you were most of use to the people you wished to serve. Besides the Air Force that rejected you, of course."
He shakes his head. "Nothing grows here at all, have you noticed? I intend to change that. If you must, you can put it down to my selfish reasons." He spreads his arms out to the street. "Look at this. It's burned away. I'd rather have a green world."
Oh, that doesn't bode well. But Chris is too pissed to care. He takes a step towards Wesker, sneering in contempt. "I'm not dying anytime soon." Another step. "I'm doing fine on my own." And one last step for good measure.
"I might not be Air Force, but I'm still STARS. Always will be." He smirks in a very un-Chris-like manner. "And you know what? I really doubt you want to restore the world to normal."
Okay, so he's actually out for a walk. A long walk over to the Target to get himself some more of those noodle bowl things. He figures they might be good for trade with other people.
If he sees anybody, that is. As it stands, he's ambling along, minding his own business. But then somebody crosses at the intersection a few hundred feet ahead. Somebody wearing black.
Chris pauses in mid-step. And then he follows as quietly as he can. Time to go say hello to an "old friend".
Reply
It dawns on Albert that he's got a tail rather sooner than it would have in the past. Not Chris' fault. . . he's just more sensitive.
He considers shedding his tail, but he's far too confident for that, and he might be able to spin a confrontation. So he puts down the basket, leans against a sturdy wall, and waits quietly for Chris to catch up.
He's just standing there, looking lazily superior.
Reply
Chris continues along as quietly as he can, but then he just gives up and moves along as normal. Stepped on broken asphault and gravel included. He even starts whitling a tune. He looks as unperturbed as can be.
But Wesker can probably tell that Chris's heart rate just spiked, along with his body temperature. Oh yes, he's not happy. And he's surprised.
"Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
Reply
No. He'll watch for a better opportunity.
"I don't understand why that confusion always seems to take place with those of us who are of any use.
"You've been well, of course. . . using your common sense, for once."
Reply
"Shit." Chris is staying out of arms reach, thank you very much! He's also looking like he just saw a bus drive by with an ostrich in the driver's seat. Wearing a sombrero. He stares at Wesker, half-expecting this to be a hallucination.
"...I always use my common sense. It's why I'm still here. But you know that." He glares before crossing his arms. "So... when did you crawl out from your grave?"
Reply
Hallucinations don't smile slightly at your idiotic staring, Chris. "I've been out here for quite some time. I lived out here alone in the early days, if you recall."
Reply
A hallucination definitely wouldn't be that snide. It's Wesker, all right. Chris puts one hand on his gun (hidden in his pocket). "I'm not asking how you're surviving now, damn it. I'm asking how you're here now."
"Faye said you were dead."
Reply
Reply
"You bastard. I knew this would happen sooner or later."
Reply
"--what?" Wesker looks between him and the basket. "It's only a basket."
Reply
"Uh-huh. Right. And I'm the Queen of France." He takes a step towards the basket, intending to look closer at it. "So what is it this time? Killer geraniums? Lots of Plant 42 seeds?"
Reply
When you're absolutely humiliating your mortal enemy, tone is important. You must state the obvious and do so in a tone reminding each of you just which was a lab researcher at eighteen.
"Dirt."
Reply
"Dirt? Probably trated to make plants into human-eating menaces." Chris examines the basket, squinting suspiciously. "Helping people's never been your style. Nor is leaving innocent people out of it."
Reply
He shakes his head. "Nothing grows here at all, have you noticed? I intend to change that. If you must, you can put it down to my selfish reasons." He spreads his arms out to the street. "Look at this. It's burned away. I'd rather have a green world."
Reply
"I might not be Air Force, but I'm still STARS. Always will be." He smirks in a very un-Chris-like manner. "And you know what? I really doubt you want to restore the world to normal."
Reply
"And this kind of damage can't be restored, but it might be replaced."
Reply
Leave a comment