recolle | closed | holiday company

It's an echo of the "real" me, as far as Retrospec's concerned, right? It ought to suit me.

[ But that's laced with a thin sarcasm, and perhaps a little laugh at the end, still tinged with a weird sense of... melancholy? Maybe even nostalgia? She's not sure. ]

That's a bit strong, I'd say.

[That's likewise a bit dry, though; "real" selves, good lord.]

True, I've never seen it like that.

[ But it seemed like you might??? Retrospec always seems to??? ]

I know you don't.

[...]

I don't know how I feel about it; it seems pointless, at this time, to deny that these memories we're getting are ours. But the idea that those people are...that we're less genuine than they are, that this is what we're supposed to be, and what we're absolutely going to be again - it doesn't strike me well.

I still want nothing to do with that, I think.

I realize it's a little philosophical, but I think I agree with Officer Togusa and some others who've said that it's impossible for us to completely become those people, now that we've lived the way we have now. That's... been comforting to me, but I would understand if that can't work as well for you.

It's something I want to believe as well - I've been saying something similar to Jaeger, at least.

[It...seems to calm both of them down when they require it, anyway.]

My life here has been similar, in ways, to the life I had back then, but there are enough fundamental differences that I can't imagine being that person again. Not completely.

It's possible there's still something I don't know, and I'm aware of that. But it's a nice thought, at any rate.

I'm just sure it's literally impossible.

[ . . . ] But I suppose, in that sense, I do have it easier. "she" was an entirely different species and I'm sure she was at least a hundred years old.

...I don't know if he was human or not.

[And that's...strange to say to someone who isn't Pitou, because it's kind of a given that Pitou won't give a single fuck about anything Wesker tells them, and Pitou is just kind of an all-around weirdo that talks like the world is their science experiment.

Either way, it's easier to discuss this portion of it in third person, just for clarity's sake.]

He certainly seemed to be at first - he didn't have much, but he had people he likes, things he enjoyed doing. At one point, there was a relationship he enjoyed with a woman he seemed to care about. Steady work, even if it wasn't particularly ethical.

But at some point, something changed, and I don't know what - I just know that beyond a certain point his actions seem to be governed more by instinct and anger. Hatred. Very little else, otherwise. Which I would assume could possibly be due to trauma of some sort, perhaps, but there seem to have been...odd powers that manifested as well.

I can't say for certain, obviously, but it was such a drastic shift that after a certain point in his life, I don't know if he was human anymore.

[ Oh that's... dark. That's very dark, actually, and it gives her pause. Not to much doubting Wesker or fear or anything but looking for how she wants to respond to that. She had been surprised and perhaps even a little confused that as near as she can tell the woman she "was" had always been a vampire. born as one, grew up as one. It was strange? Very strange. But...

... Huh. ]

Could it be that it goes back to those biological weapons? Some experiment on himself gone wrong?

Perhaps.

[He does remember injecting himself with...something, though he doesn't know what it was.]

...I believe that's how he died, sometime later. He deliberately infected himself with something that killed everyone else that had been exposed to it; I still don't quite understand why.

I haven't recalled dying to it, so I suppose it's possible he survived. But it's also likely that he just died immediately and as such there's nothing to remember.

... Wait, so he was dead before whatever turned that world into... what was the world she said, shards?

[ . . . Weird. ]

...I'm not certain. But that's the belief I've been operating under.

[...]

He infected himself with the same thing that caused what happened to Excella.

[ . . . Oh.

... So dead, or ... possibly, he would one day turn into a giant monster like that? She frowns, both of those are... terrible. And she's not sure what to say in response for a long time other than to keep her red eyes in contact with his own, not noticing that they shifted into the catlike predatory mode.

... In the end, she reaches out for his hand. ]

We'll handle whatever happens to you, Albert. I promise.

[...Oh. That's...

...He'll accept it, anyway; this is...it's nice? It's nice. (The eyes are also nice, though for admittedly different reasons.)]

I don't know if I'm concerned about Retrospec trying to do that to me or not. On the one hand, they seem determined to make us into the people we used to be.

...On the other, they would have to deal with the results of setting that loose on their city. Which I don't think anyone would appreciate, given how difficult things like that are to kill. Uroboros seems to consume more or less everything.

[On the phantom third hand, maybe Retrospec has no control over what they get back and what they don't... And if they don't have any control over that, then this city is eventually and inevitably fucked. If not from Uroboros, then from something else that someone brought in with them.

And in the end, he can't say he minds that notion nearly as much as he should.]

[ Elda is increasingly of the opinion that they don't control the specifics, actually. So... high five, phantom third hand. That said, she bites her lip a moment before she exhales softly through her nose. Obviously, it's spoken with some bravado now, her fingers coiling around him. ]

Please don't talk like that. ... I should understand more about that thing - Uroboros? - but if I can do anything to help it, we're not going to let you die.

...I'll tell you more about it sometime, should you want to hear it.

[And he's not...maintaining eye contact very well at that, though he doesn't seem upset; just...somewhat awkward, really, though he's trying to keep his voice reasonably even.

And when he speaks again there's likewise some bravado in it; the notion that he's likely going to die for his past life's decisions, at a time that he has no way of knowing, due to a situation that he has no control over, because a group of people decided to play God with whatever's left of the universe...

It's something he's thought about before; it's something he knows he deserves, despite what Elda and Jaeger keep trying to tell him.

It's not what he wants. But it's what he deserves.]

I'm not going to die, Elda. I imagine you would be highly displeased with me if I did.

I would cry and I would grieve. [ Displeased is an understatement, and with how much of a walnut Wesker can be, it seems more right to say it as directly as possible. And... in that same regard... She inhales and then moves on to the next point. ]

But at the same time, I know that you are not he gentlest of men, but you are one who does not want to fall down the wrong path. If you were to stray too far, I also want you to know... I, of all people, will admonish you the hardest and drive you to the right path once more.

[ With all his talk about what he deserves... honestly, this is what she concludes is the best way to handle it? She might be a little dense, but the statement's simple: you won't die, but I also won't let you go wild if things make you go a little bit crazy. ]

[And that...the first part of that just gets his gaze to avert harder, and his grip is a bit tight on her hand but it's fine, certainly nothing she can't handle.

Would anyone even miss me if I died? It's the sort of question Jaeger asks (the sort of question Jaeger's asked him once, the sort of question that warrants an apology later because it's a cruel thing to say to someone's face), but not really something Wesker has ever questioned himself; he's always just assumed that people are like he is, that grieving is a bunch of scripted sentiments, words that are Appropriate Things To Say followed by rooms that are too quiet and spaces that should be occupied by a person but simply aren't anymore, and after a while you get used to the silence and you get used to the empty space and you get used to the awkwardness that comes with wanting to say something to someone before you remember that you can't anymore, and in the end that's it.

Becoming accustomed to someone's absence when you would prefer their presence.

He isn't sure what to do with the notion that someone would actually mourn him, that there would be crying and an entire process behind it, and for a good long moment he just sort of...freezes up, and when she moves on he forces himself to breathe, the exhale sharp and tense but he can handle this a little better, and it's - ]

...I trust you to do that, you know. Fully and completely.

[Okay. This is...better.]

Thank you, Elda. For that.

You're welcome, Albert.

[ she says it softly, squeezing his hands again. She knows she's putting far too much on him. The man never was the strongest or most sincere with his feelings, but... he was important to her. A dear friend who had done her a very special service for years. Who had stuck with her. Nothing will make her abandon him now.

And she needed to make that clear.

she keeps her hand there for a long, long moment, but then gently goes to take them back. ]

... I suppose that got a bit serious! Hah.

[He'll release her when she moves - not quickly, but easily enough - and by the end of it...well, it goes a long way toward relaxing him, at any rate.]

It wasn't the most orthodox of conversations to have in a space like this, let's put it that way.

Honestly! I came here expecting some tense date and now here I am having a serious conversation with a dear friend.

[ Snort. ]

... That's not bad, though.

For what it's worth, I was expecting to have to explain to someone that I'm here for the sake of spending an evening and not looking for any sort of relationship...

[we don't disappoint liz, however.]

I'm surprised you even accepted! I suppose that girl is someone it seems poor form to reject.

I did inform her that I'm not looking for anyone.

[...]

I didn't give her specifics, I suppose, but the sentiment was still there.

... Honestly.

closed | holiday company

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