Travels.

[tyrantmaker]

He can't get used to the light being all around him. He hates what the first night did to him. He's found another black turtleneck with a thicker collar, and has pulled the collar up as high as it will go. It helps, somewhat

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[soldierunknown]

HUNK had his spear he crafted earlier in the apartment with him, not his TMP. An odd choice, considering how the Survivor's mind worked, but it was not completely out of the ordinary. Perhaps he had run out of bullets? Who knew.

He wouldn't tell.

With his gas mask under his arm, HUNK peeled through the pharmacy looking for anything he could find. He had already collected some cigarillos and a good carton of cigarettes. Now, however, he was looking for lighter fluid and a few other items that he needed back in his room.

"Hn." He maneuvered through whatever he could and tried to keep as quiet as possible. However, with all of his combat gear on, he a bit of noise as he tried to step over broken glass and whatever else had collected over the floors over the years.

[soldierunknown]

HUNK felt his weight fall on his knees as he tried to keep himself from hitting the ground. His head and his body felt so off balance.

"Human Unit, Albert. Human.." He tried to grab onto something to keep his balance. "..Human Unit. That..is an accomplishment. A..standing."

His body swayed and his knees started to buckle.

[tyrantmaker]

Wesker hastily caught him, tossing the spear away, but quickly grabbing his wrist again in case it was a decoy.

"Of course. You were well-compensated because of your skill." Wesker's voice reflects a little warmth now. "Your value-"

The bite this time is to the neck, very light. Wesker doesn't want to make him so lightheaded he can't talk--he just wants him to have another dose of that feeling. He draws away, licking again quickly before he can be too tempted to just keep drinking.

"-is quite high. Which leaves me with something of a dilemma, Alexander."

[soldierunknown]

HUNK's teeth set in place as the second bite came to his neck. He tried hard not to make a sound; he didn't want to give Wesker the satisfaction. But a little growl escaped and rolled against his set jaw.

"If I'm..of value, then wh-why do this. I-I...I'm fine. I w-was fine.." The Survivor groaned and shook again His whole world was spinning and there were conflicting thoughts and emotions running through his usually clear head.

And that was driving him crazy. But what woke him from his stupor was the one thing he never thought anyone would say.

"...Alexander? Why did you.."

Sierra breathed.

"...Alexander."

[tyrantmaker]

"Because I don't know whose side you're on." Wesker rubs the site of the first bite on his wrist in small, absent circles with a thumb, just because he's curious as to how closed the skin is. The bite on his wrist was fully healed after Beckett licked it

[soldierunknown]

HUNK's teeth were still set in place by the time Wesker indulged himself in another bite. However, as before, he tried to surpress anything he could from the Tyrant, but he failed this time around. A growl, low and menacing in tone quality, escaped the mercenary and rumbled deep in his throat.

"What do..you want with me then..? O-Obviously, you're st-stil pi-pissed off about-" He paused, trying to catch his breath. "-Doctor Birkin.."

Suddenly the urge for a cigarette that had drove him to this place had vanished and he felt horribly famished for a few things that every human desired. It was a horrible craving that HUNK had done his best to avoid.

That was when fear took hold of him again.

"What have you done.." The mercenary dug his fingers into Wesker. "What have you done!?"

[tyrantmaker]

HUNK wants to growl menacingly? That's so. . . Wesker quashes a condescending smile before HUNK sees it.

And he almost sympathizes. He knew Beckett's bite, for example, was addictive (although Tyrants seem just differently affected by vampire bites; just as well, frankly.) He'd come close to asking Beckett to bite him again after only one. Alexander's fighting it.

"No, I'm not angry. That would be a waste of time. He was dead; here, he isn't." Wesker thinks, then takes HUNK's knife from its sheath and drops it. He reaches out to the storage racks beside him, running a hand along the boxes there. There's some sort of horrible canned energy drink, doubtless with a roof-high sugar content. He rips the box open, one-handed, and eases a can free. "Drink this. You're a little dehydrated, and you need to raise your blood sugar level again

[soldierunknown]

The mercenary snatched the drink in silence and sucked on it vigorously. His teeth bit into the can as he drank and he slowly let go of his employer to hold the drink firmly in his hands

[tyrantmaker]

"Spain?" Wesker snorts. "You thought you'd die in Spain? I thought there were two points, perhaps, where you might have fallen. No more."

Unfortunately, nothing takes out a good employee like a chainsaw to the neck.

"All I've done is hold off starvation for myself and drain you a little. You'll recover completely, with rest and time. Nothing new remains in your body. No changes have occurred. It is not a lingering magic, nor do my fangs inject anything chemical."

No, the effect he's trying to induce is psychological. Wesker considers biting him again, but decides to let him recover his equilibrium a bit first. "I'm not Harth's handiwork. There's a rather less. . . destructive vampire in town."

He considers that last statement carefully, largely because it sounds to him like the blood loss talking, and nods. "Go on." Because he's a little confused as to where Sierra is headed with that.

[soldierunknown]

HUNK pulled out his dog tags and stared at them for a good long while. His name, his origin, his platoon, his rank; everything he had accomplished was there, imprinted on the cold-hard steel by the Umbrella Corporation.

"If I am to still stay on your contract, then I cannot remain in the apartments, I presume." He eyed Wesker. "The question is, though, what is my chance of survival now, if I were to follow you? Would someone surely take me out?"

He shifted his weight.

"Because I don't plan to die in this shit hole. I want to die on American soil."

That was HUNK's pride talking. He would probably regret that later.

[tyrantmaker]

"If I were to ask you to leave the others, your odds would be quite low. Of course you should stay with the group. I'm not about to weaken you with blood loss and then drop you out where the Magog can finish you off."

To someone who isn't aware of how long they've spent callously discussing and stacking the odds of their survival, or haggling about the prices on the lives of acquaintances or friends, it must seem an oddly congenial discussion.

Wesker isn't sure Sierra's addicted, yet. He still has his other wrist, so he lifts it, turning it over, just seeing if he's going to pull away.

"I haven't altered your precious humanity in the slightest. If you don't tell them, if you don't remain near those who can detect my scent before you bathe, nobody's going to have an idea."

[soldierunknown]

Sierra didn't move. He just watched Wesker and took in another sharp breath. There was fear there, yes, but there was a horrible need for it all. Like a drug, it took hold of HUNK's system.

"..Thanks."

That was all he said, nothing more, nothing less. Now he just waited for what Wesker was going to do.

[tyrantmaker]

. . . yes, he'd like to see Redfield top this. It's a fairly sweet deal. And it won't give HUNK black lung! Maybe an iron deficiency problem, but that's if Wesker's not careful.

"I don't intend to make myself a crowd of enemies and be hunted as Harth is. There's no long-term survival there." He rewards the lack of struggle with another very small bite. When they're both out of the feeding trance, he adds, "I'm not going to turn a crowd, either." He leaves HUNK leaning against the wall and goes for the wooden spear. "I like this. More of a reach advantage than a stake, and more suited to fighting humans." He glances up. "You want to stay as you are?"

[soldierunknown]

"..Fighting humans?" HUNK was taken a little back by the comment, but the stupor he was in didn't make him question in. The only thing that was on his mind was if Wesker intended the comment to be for him

[tyrantmaker]

"So true." Wesker smiles, just a little. "We'll meet again." When cigarettes don't cut it. "If you become damaged in the meantime, you can reassess what you want. I intend to force nothing on you." He doesn't have to.

He wants to bite, one last time, but he recognises that as just the clouding of his thinking by his hunger. Any more, and he risks HUNK being forced to go to the infirmary. "Here." He returns his knife. "I'll watch you on the way back to the apartments, this time. Go. Rest, recover." He considers. Telling him he knows that Alexander's reliant on the bite would just make him fight it. He'll have to give a pretext for another meeting. "When you want to know what I've learned about Harth's forces, come find me again; I'll be near and outside at night, and probably on the path to the hospital."

It's too bad the Redfields allow themselves no gnawing addictions to replace. But that would make things too easy.

"Is there anything you want to know now?"

. . . no, he won't bite you again.

[soldierunknown]

HUNK just shook his head. He needed some personal time to himself now