Test 01 [ Audio ]

[albert__wesker]

[The last thing that Wesker remembers prior to his very Hellenistic ferry ride is lying in a pool of his own blood, diluted by the nutrient-rich solvent from the broken Tyrant tank. The shift between the two periods is, at its very best, unsettling-- but the voice that comes across the audio feed is cool and dry.]

Stars, do you read? Come in.

[

Comments

[Audio]

[zerosuitjill]

[Wesker has always been straightforward. Punctual. Logical, as far as the virus can deduce. So (finally) hearing the crackle of his voice on the feed catches Jill's attention entirely, enough to drop everything she was doing and redirect her focus to answering -- but there's no question as to his choice of words. It's not something she understands -- Jill herself, in the claustrophobic corner of her mind, wonders what he's playing at, but it's not in P30's nature to question.

A responding audio feed clicks on not two seconds after his transmission ends, her voice low and blank, but attentive. Expectant. It's not often it uses its host's name, but given the audio and unnatural circumstances, it doesn't hurt.]

Jill, reporting in.

Re: [Audio]

[albert__wesker]

Jill.

[No, I'll make you pay, Wesker? No, you're going down, Wesker? Interesting. A blonde eyebrow twitches above the line of dark glasses and Wesker touches his (uninjured) stomach before saying more.] Sitrep?

[Audio]

[zerosuitjill]

[There's not even a twitch in her tone -- it's entirely deadpan, almost robotic.] No injuries. Approximately three days, eight hours, and twenty-three minutes until my current virus supply reaches minimum requirements for maintaining control. I have been here for one week, two hours; Redfield and his partner do not appear to be present as far as I can determine.

[She stops there. There's more to say, but he only asked for a simple report.]

[Audio]

[albert__wesker]

[There's a moment taken to filter the information, Valentine's answer, her tone. (And still the fact that she's not trying to shove some high-minded moral crap down his throat. How many names had she called him? She'd looked so honestly wounded by his betrayal he'd almost laughed.)

Three days, eight hours, and twenty-three minutes until her current virus supply reaches minimum requirements for maintaining control.

Virus supply.

Maintaining control.

Interesting.

Oh, and Redfield. Hopefully the answer for his absence is death, though it would be a shame if Rebecca had succumbed to the same. Still-- a sacrifice for science is not a bad way to go.]

Tell me about the virus.

[Audio]

[zerosuitjill]

[Subject to the virus or not -- even going on three years -- it isn't as if he's gone and explained the finer workings of it to her; the more intricate, cellular details aren't hers to recite, but she knows enough from what she's gathered firsthand to recite her knowledge -- and someone reading from a book couldn't do it better.]

You developed a new strain of the T-Virus more than two years ago, presumably for funding. You called it "P30." It grants the subject strength and speed superior to the most advanced humans for a short period of time while allowing complete domination over the subject's will. The latter effect faced periodic drawbacks due to my host's resistance for several months after the initial injection before you assisted the virus' evolution to establish firmer control.

[Audio]

[albert__wesker]

Two years--

[Good thing the video feed isn't on, because no one has to witness just how very close to surprised Wesker's face is right now. And how, as he listens, his lips curve into a smile. Oh-- he doesn't understand, but that's never stopped him. Sometimes the best way to find answers is simply to take what you do know and dismantle from there.

P30. Progenitor... and, it is safe to assume, the thirtieth strain attempt.]

Your host's resistance.

Ah. [The smile stretches. What a lovely thought.] Do you have the means to find me, Jill? I've just been left on a dock by a ferry.

[Audio -> Action]

[zerosuitjill]

Affirmative. [She's already on the move.] I will be on site within five minutes.

[Using top speed, anyway. Which she will.

And sure enough, four minutes and fifty seconds later, she rounds the corner at a brisk walk -- she casts an alert glance around the area, just in case, as she approaches. Nothing's changed about her since she arrived -- dressed the same, still armed, the viral heartbeat on her chest still concealed.]

[Audio -> Action]

[albert__wesker]

[Wesker sets the timer on his watch out of curiousity-- every piece of data is important. And that four minutes and fifty seconds later, he finds himself impressed. And slightly shocked.

She's older. Nearly his age, if he'd have to take a guess.]

Jill.

[His fingers linger on the cool butt of the desert eagle at his hip.] What's the date?

[Action]

[zerosuitjill]

[Her eyes instantly and openly flicker to his hand, but only out of programmed habit -- if he draws on her, she has no reason to act; still, she takes that as an unspoken command to immediately stop, putting herself a couple yards further back than intended.

Her blank eyes return to his face, utterly unfazed. With no real way of keeping the date here that she knows of -- and the fact that she hasn't cared to ask anyone -- she can only add seven days to the last date she was sure of.] March 20th, 2009.

[Action]

[albert__wesker]

[She is... wrong. The tone, the posture. This is without a doubt, Jill Valentine, member of S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team and yet-- not. He can't say the change isn't refreshing, however. And apparently due to him? A beautiful piece of work.

2009.

Over a decade from his own year, which, scientifically speaking, is impossible. Of course Wesker has never been a proponent of quantum physics; he much rather prefers a discpline in which one can obtain physical results. He considers the fact that it may be a ruse, but... Valentine was never the type to come at an enemy from the side, for all her DF training. One of the reasons he'd been so surprised that she'd lived through the Mansion.]

You're blonde.

[Action]

[zerosuitjill]

[A beat.]

Affirmative.

[Action]

[albert__wesker]

Jill, stand on one foot. [Because now he's watching everything and the questions are forming. Is she only responsive his his instructions? And he wants a sample of her blood so badly his palms are fairly itching. The last time he'd seen her he'd been--

He'd been nearly dead. Waiting, not for death, but for that singular moment of opportunity. Waiting, and watching Jill and Barry run ahead of the Tyrant. But more than ten years later they were both still alive. Together.]

[Action]

[zerosuitjill]

[She shifts her weight instantly to her left boot, her body giving no sign of the subtle adjustment it has to make to account for the balance placed on one narrow heel.

Balance really isn't an issue with P30, after all.]

[Action]

[albert__wesker]

[So he sees.]

Jill, do you have any recollection of events from July 24, 1998?

[Action]

[zerosuitjill]

[And that's where the borderline becomes ambiguous. The virus integrated instincts and meanings of basic actions from Jill into its own repertoire -- it's the only reason Wesker didn't have to teach her to talk and walk in addition to training her. But actual, genuine memories -- events, people in Jill's life -- are just that. Jill's. The virus has its own perfect memory, but it's only a couple years' worth of material.]

No. That was prior to my development.

[Action]

[albert__wesker]

[Conclusive enough, in its own way. But he has to be sure. He holds out his hand.] Come here.

[And when she does, he reaches out to stroke fingertips down the line of her cheek. Jill was his team-- but his team had merely existed to produce a data set; he had no emotional ties to them. He touches her because he knows that Jill-- Jill-- would react.]