#bastardsunlight

Once it was brought to his attention, Shui couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. The kombatants had gathered again for a bit of training, eventually leading to friendly spars, which meant Shui could get his own sort of training in taking care of the injured afterwards. Nowadays, Shui had enough experience to expect most of what he saw in the med bay. Most of it.

"You're brilliant. You saved my life. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I owe you everything, and I'm doing you a disservice if I don't tell you this--feel like I'll... burst.

"Viktor, I love you."

He laughs shortly, feeling a fool.

"I'm in love with you. I can't really remember a time when I wasn't. It's taking me over. I can't not think of you. You're behind my eyelids when I blink, and when I go to sleep, you're in my dreams. This sounds bad--or crazy or obsessed--but I... I'm not sorry. I can't be."

{⚙️}: Viktor had been standing at the blackboard, keen golden eyes scanning over each and every equation he had written there. Jayce had been… a little distracted that day, though the inventor thought nothing of it. They both had their off days, after all. But when his hands were taken, dry from chalk dust and so small in Jayce’s palms, Viktor began to consider that perhaps, this was not simply an off day.

A brow quirks, as words begin to spill from his colleague’s mouth like water. Words like partner and trust. Viktor can relate to such a sentiment. He had grown wary of trust, himself, afraid to allow anyone inside these walls he had built, for fear of being hurt. It had become an all-too-familiar part of life early on, and had shaped him into a man guarded, always an arm’s length away from anyone else. Prickly to protect himself. Armored to keep others out, to save the soft heart within.

Jayce, though? Jayce was different. Viktor trusted this man unlike he trusted anyone else. Had allowed him into that inner circle, allowed him to get close enough to touch that fearful heart, to comfort it with a hand on his shoulder, or a big, toothy grin. Jayce meant everything to Viktor, and, judging by his continued speech, that feeling was mutual.

“Jayce, what are you—“

He doesn’t get a chance to ask, before the bomb is dropped. I love you. It causes Viktor to freeze, his heart to stop, breath to hitch, eyes to widen. For a moment, he can only stand there, thankful that Jayce had not yet stopped his rambling, was not yet expecting a response. A million and one replies buzzed about in his mind, but the moment he tried to choose one, the words died on his tongue.

“I…”

Viktor’s face is red, his eyes, wide and disbelieving, dart over Jayce’s face, examining his expression, as if searching for the punchline. The shorter scientist was a confident man, but not without his insecurities. Of course he loved Jayce. Of course he did. But he had never believed that Jayce would so much as entertain such a sentiment in return. Why, when he could have anyone he so chose, would he choose him?

“No, it— it doesn’t.” he finally found his voice, latching onto that hint of anxiety that seemed to flare up in his partner’s speech. Doubt, perhaps. That wouldn’t do, “I, eh… I’m— flattered, Jayce, really. It’s just…”

What was he doing? No, no, this sounded too much like rejection. Start over.

“Ehh, what I mean to say is, I…” he takes in a slow breath, lets it out. His chest tightens, and he looks down at their hands, still held together, his pallor so stark against Jayce’s warm skin.

“She needn’t leave her workstation.” The metal door slammed, it was not a workshop, nor a lab or even an office. They’d locked her in one of Jericho’s cells for prisoners of war, those needing interrogation, the young experiment came to him restrained with runed shackles, she was free to move, but they quickly showed him how to tighten the chains, how to punish if she stepped out of line, and, if necessary, how to unlock them. “A small set up in there should do... We’ve informed her of the Noxian beliefs regarding redundancy, she knows to be of... Consistent use.” They continued to his office, discussing the process of her creation using new forms of magitech to enhance her mind, training her all her life to invent things that will make and break the world.

Twelve were born for this experiment, only one survived. How lucky General Swain was. 

As they discussed how she would best be handled, under their consistent supervision, only being rewarded food and sleep when deserved as to not become complacent, June sat alone in her cell. She did not speak, nor did she look Jericho in the eyes, as was expected of her. But she looked small, far too small and worn out for someone her age. She became entranced by the window, grabbing onto the ledge and trying to look out of it. The sky was dark and cloudy, with the rumbles of thunder on the horizon, another miserable day in Noxus. 

It was the most beautiful thing June had ever seen. 

When Jericho returned, he would find June still looking out the window, what a gift it was to see the sky at last. “A window...” She sighed, hearing the door open. “I have a window... Thank you.”

He looks VERY proud of himself, because that's who he is as a person and he delights in nothing more than pitching ideas to his friends—all two of them.

Chewing his lower lip, bombardier’s eyes downcast, uncharacteristically timid, Leon sighs heavily through his nose and forces his gaze upward. “I think I love you, Chris… I know the timing’s awful, but…” He shakes his head, as if he can’t help it. And maybe he can’t. Maybe there’s just no other option, “It’s been… a long time since I’ve trusted anyone this way.”

Chris eyes the other man carefully, trying to figure out what was bothering him. He knew Leon well enough to know that something was up. He could tell by his body language and the look in his eyes. The air was thick with tension and he swallows hard, the muscles of his jaw clenching tightly as brown eyes watch Leon.

Then, the words are out and his gaze goes wide. The tension in his jaw is released and he lets out a breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding. "Leon..." It's a low murmur as he closes the distance between them.

He would have been lying if he’d said he had ever expected to see Leon Kennedy again...  And yet here they were.

Freedom had been good to him.  A new wardrobe, albeit every outfit was still accompanied by a pair of sunglasses (and in some cases a hat), far more modern than his usual look in the village.  His hair, still long, but buzzed into an undercut, was thrown rather haphazardly into a ponytail and pulled away from his face.

The DSO agent had seen him at his worst, left for dead and desperately seeking escape, and now he was seeing him at what was objectively his best.  He was calm, relaxed, happy even.

And sure, a bathroom in a bar was a real weird place for the two of them to be having this reunion, but here they were.

To his credit, Leon seemed more or less unfazed when Karl gently pulled him back, pressed him against the wall.  Some small voice, somewhere in the back of his mind, whispered something about trust, but he pushed it aside.  He knew what he had to do.

“...Never got a chance to thank you for what you did for me.”  He feels awkward saying it-- he isn’t a man who’s used to thanking people.  “I..  Have a factory in town.  If you ever need anything, you should swing by.  Address is in your phone.”

The phone in question seems to flare to life in Leon’s coat pocket as he speaks, a brief crackle of static followed by the buzz of a text message.

SMASH OR PASS

Karl: Smash

Piers: Smash

Krauser: Smash

Parker: Smash

Joe: Pass

Finn: I'm sure he's very nice, but pass? I think?

Moreau: Pass

Carla: Smash

Jill: Smash

Ada: Smash

Hunnigan: Smash

Jake: Pass

Wesker: .....Smash

Lucas: Pass

Marguerite: Pass

Miranda: Pass