#valiantbuilt

Once   upon   a   time,   Thor   had   a   concept   of   what   that   meant   but   in   this   business   the   tables   can   turn   so   quickly.   There's   always   more   he   can   do.   More   than   he   can   accomplish.   They   always   say   'you   can't   save   everyone'   and   that   may   be   true,   but   it   isn't   in   him   not   to   try.   "I'm   not   sure   what   that   means   anymore,   Jill.   I   really   don't."    His   heart   my   be   in   the   right   place   but   he'll   kill   anyone   if   they   are   on   the   wrong   side.   Shouldn't   that   come   with   more   remorse?   He's   been   engrained   to   get   the   bad   guys.   The   ones   trying   to   turn   the   world   upside   down   with   viruses   and   bioweapons.   Maybe   he's   just   having   one   of   those   days.   Who   can   do   everything   he's   done   and   not   feel   some   sort   of   regret.   The   same   goes   for   them   all.   At   the   end   of   the   day,   he'd   do   it   all   again. 

He almost says it. The answer slides up his throat like a shard of glass, carving its way out until it comes out as nothing more than a disgruntled-sounding groan.

Try again. He narrows in on the second question. The one of least resistance. He does not recognize her at all. Not as a member of another Umbrella team, at least.

"It's Thursday." He says with resounding clarity. Somehow focusing despite the way it feels like his heart is trying to crack a hole right through his ribs right now. "You gonna ask me to wiggle my toes too?"

Somehow  they've  survived  the  night.  Both  still  alive  despite  being  pretty  bruised  up.  The  betrayal  of  Wesker  is  still  heavy  on  Chris  as  well  as  the  deaths  of  so  many  comrades.  The  only  reason  he's  relishing  in  the  fact  that  he's  still  breathing  is  to  hunt  down  every  one  who  had  a  hand  in  this.

Jill  had  fallen  asleep  on  his  shoulder  right  after  the  helicopter  took  off  and  didn't  open  her  eyes  again  until  it  set  down.  It  shows  the  amount  of  exhaustion  that  must  have  hit  her  deep  in  her  bones.  Chris  on  the  other  hand  feels  as  if  he  could  keep  running  on  fumes.  He  can't  imagine  sleeping  for  quite  some  time.

How  does  he  say  goodbye  to  her?  Where  do  they  go  from  here?  They  survived  this  hellish  nightmare  together.  He  can't  imagine  losing  anyone  else.  "You  gonna  be  alright,  Jill?"  he  says  his  arms  down  at  his  side.  She  gives  him  a  weak  smile  and  walks  up  to  him  placing  her  lips  to  his.  It  is  a  brief  kiss.  Too  brief.  and  even  if  she  doesn't  say  anything.  She  doesn't  have  it.  The  kiss  did  it  all  for  her.

@valiantbuilt : ❝ ' giving up ' isn't in my vocabulary. ❞

was giving up in any of their vocabularies? it seems those who go into this line of work were as stubborn as cockroaches. undying, unrelenting, and a real pain in the ass of their enemies. he wouldn't have it any other way though, and a laugh slips through his lips as he pushes himself back up to a knee, head shaking. the dull ache in sternum attested to jill's skill, a well placed punch winding him but for a moment.

❝ yeah, i can see that. ❞ he quips back with an air of amusement, pushing himself back to his feet. they've been at this for hours, and he can feel fatigue creeping in, but he's just as stubborn as she is. fists raise to protect his face as feet plant firmly on the ground, reading himself for round ... god knows what. he's lost count at this point.

OLD  HABITS  DIE  HARD.  And  yet,  he  thought  he  could  hide  it  from  everyone.  Lighter  in  hand,  and  a  cigarette  in  his  mouth,  he  heard  the  footsteps  behind  him,  his  hand  was  reflex  as  he  held  it  over  his  gun,  which  was  hidden  under  his  shirt.  Though  he  knew  better  than  to  think  anyone  else  was  going  to  find  him  up  here.  Titling  his  head  to  hear  the  voice,  he  relaxed  a  little  bit  and  turned  to  face  the  woman.  It  was  always  a  good  feeling  to  hear  her  voice,  and  yet,  he  was  going  to  relax  a  little  bit.  Leaning  back  a  little,  he  took  a  deep  inhale  from  the  cigarette  he  allowing  the  smoke  to  breathe  throw  his  lips.

"  Hey  Jill,"  he  said  softly  for  a  moment,  wondering  how  she  found  him  all  the  way  up  here.  But  then  again,  if  his  smoking  habit  didn't  die,  so  did  where  he  liked  to  hide.  "  Yeah,  I'm  fine.  The  last  mission  --  It  was  rough.  Nothing  I  can't  handle.  But  what  are  you  doing  up  here?  Shouldn't  you  be  resting?"

—never asked you what your last name was.

Carlos mishears her. Exhausted, but not extinguished, by the endless effort of battle-ready upkeep. Could be a bit of the tinnitus flaring up, too: holding a far away but mind-numbing note in his ear.