(Untitled)

[burbonmilkshake]

Faye has curled up in 202 with an English-to-Chinese dictionary. It's old, it's battered and well-used, but it's helpful!

...When it isn't torn and stained beyond use, that is.

Either way, she's desperately trying to learn to read Chinese. Come help her out! ...Or mock her mercilessly. Whatever floats your boat.

Comments

[tyrantmaker]

Wesker comes in. He's managed to stuff his usual air of self-satisfaction deep into a corner of his psyche, and is moving like a worried human instead. He seems not to notice her for a moment, wrapped in his own concerns, and then glances over with a small smile and a startled look.

"Oh, hello, Faye."

[tyrantmaker]

Wesker breathes deeply, lowering his hands to his knees and leaning forward so his face is harder to see--not that there's anything there but helplessness and dread. "That's the thing. He saw something. He zoned out. I--all he could tell me was that there'd be a very hungry vampire. He didn't see who. He said I had to be careful. But. . . he didn't see a narrow escape, he saw me die." Wesker snaps his head up, slamming his fists once against his knees, and then settles again.

"I'm not staying inside. I'm not hiding. If I'm not there, he'll just kill someone else. At least I have warning."

[burbonmilkshake]

"Albert...!" she says desperately, reaching forward to take his hand. "You can't. Just... go on patrol like everyone else!"

[tyrantmaker]

"What he also didn't say was when, Faye." Frustration boils up in Wesker's voice, although the source is entirely different than Faye imagines. "I could hide in here being useless for months, and still walk outside for a cigarette and be consumed. There's no point in standing back because I'm afraid."

Hear how honest he is, admitting it like that?

Once again, he outdoes himself.

[burbonmilkshake]

Her hand drops in her lap. "I see your point," she says sadly. "I just don't want to lose a friend."

Poor, naive little Faye. Pissing off a Tyrant is not a good idea.

[tyrantmaker]

"I'm going to try to take measures. I'm going to watch out, constantly. I'm not going out there alone--not unless I have to." He huffs out his breath in a sharp exhalation. "If Harth's really so hungry, he'll attack no matter how many of us there are, but it lessens the chances of him getting a full meal." How can he speak so dispassionately? "And maybe. . . maybe he'll do something stupid."

This is fine. This is what he's working on getting. But if she licks him? She dies screaming.

[burbonmilkshake]

"Be careful," is all she can say. She looks at him worriedly.

[tyrantmaker]

"Take it step by step." Wesker rubs his hands together, then rests them on the couch. "If Harth--it may not be Harth, but I don't know who else would attack a patrol--comes, we know he's most likely to come after me. The vision was about me, right? So we already know he'll be attacking. Then we know what target he's going after. That's narrowing it down enough that we're prepared to act when--if something happens. We haven't been able to catch him because we haven't been able to predict what he's doing. This could be it.

"Secondly, if he takes too long trying to scatter us, or if he underestimates us, or if he can't get me alone in time, we have a good shot at him. Yes, I could die. I could have died all along. But, Faye, we could kill Harth. It's one death versus that chance. It's worth the risk."

[burbonmilkshake]

"But... he could turn you," she says desperately, quietly, finally voicing what she never wanted to say.

[tyrantmaker]

It is vital that he not rush this part. He looks. . . stunned. And for the first time, afraid.

Finally: "I. . ." he swallows. "I'd just been thinking of how he killed Ed." He looks down at his open hands.

[burbonmilkshake]

Faye hides as much as she can between her short hair. Silent tears fall on the book in her lap.

[tyrantmaker]

Wesker thinks for a moment, then reaches over, collects the blanket at the end of the couch, and drapes it over her shoulders. Then he puts an arm around her.

Next time he's going to have to pick a hardier one before requiring her to think that far. Ugh. She was the one to raise the possibility. Now it just has to stick. But if he doesn't settle her down again, she'll be in no shape to do anything. So. . . comfort without being too comforting?

"Faye." His hand rubs a small circle between her shoulderblades. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. . ." He shakes his head. "I didn't need to drop so much on you."

[burbonmilkshake]

She shakes her head, sniffling a little. "I'm sorry. It's just. We're becoming friends, and I have a --problem--with losing people I care about."

Yes. Manipulate the emotionally fragile one. Brilliant, Albert!

[tyrantmaker]

"It's my fault. Like I said, we don't know he'll win. Maybe with more people, he'll be driven off. Or slink back into the night and step into a puddle." His expression is someone trying to bring a little humor in to lighten things.

"Stay inside if. . . if anything does happen." His tone drops again, with an element of concern. He just saw me dying, so any other patrollers probably will escape. You'll know.

"Just be safe. It's important to remember--well, remember how Krycek was changed? How he was a slimy, distasteful traitor before, and afterwards he was, ah," his expression twists a bit with confusion, "slimy, distasteful, and homicidal?" He taps his fingers together. "Well, there's the Magog, who now are worse than they were before, because they. . . kidnap and eat people." He looks confused. "Still. But despite the cases we know of, it could be the turning itself that changes people, and not who they were before. So stay inside."

Yes, he is, isn't he?

[burbonmilkshake]

She sniffles and nods. "Okay," she says quietly.

Vampire paranoia? Confirmed.

[tyrantmaker]

Wesker doesn't appear to have heard, lost in thought. ". . . although I actually heard we had a vampire here who fought the Magog, didn't eat anyone, didn't cause trouble, and who we lost track of in the thick of the war. . ." He shakes his head. "Still not worth the risk."