there’s still a strange heavy sense of surrealism that clings to him after everything that happened. and not just for making it out alive as the only surviving member of delta squad. that part doesn’t shake him up as much —— mercs like him come and go, just part of the contract as hired muscle and collateral damage —— but rather what they were sent into. it was a massacre. they died torn apart by things that weren’t human. not anymore.
and now raccoon city ceases to exist, burying the truth along with it. not that that fact deters jill. jill who is alive and well and not pale and dying. turning. she couldn’t have come at a better time really, letting go of a breath he hadn't realised he’d been holding. eager to get up and help in doing something to further shake it off, ignoring the cocktail of unease sloshing around in his stomach, carlos takes the top half off of her hands and follows her into the kitchen.
❝ hey, how are you settling into the new living arrangements? ❞ @goetiya nudges him playfully with her shoulder. settling some pizza she had ordered down on the countertop.
a hum and a flicker of a smile at the corner over the nudge against his shoulder. his short answer would be it's complicated. settling in hasn’t been easy. and not just because building an organisation from the ground up to fight against bioweapons is a nightmare in itself with all of the logistics and politics—— and that’s before getting to the actual bioweapons. being the guy who used to be part of the ubsc —— an extension part of umbrella —— will rightfully put anyone who knows on edge, especially the last remaining members of s.t.a.r.s. the bad taste it’s put in his mouth hasn’t left.
the only reason he believes he’s lasted this long without being killed in some gruesome grim fashion is thanks to jill’s vote of confidence and status as someone who's survived hell and back not once, but twice.
not that it stops the dirty looks he gets, the whispers behind his back. that he’s your typical merc. an undercover spy. that he’ll show his true colours as a traitor when the right moment to strike comes in some grand revenge scheme all in the name of umbrella. fucking insane.
he's not gonna worry her with all that though, she’s got plenty to deal with. it’s his situation to navigate through and make work. so he goes with an easy joke. ❝ you won’t see me complainin’, got better digs here for one. ❞ which isn’t a lie either. this is an upgrade compared to his past ones. moving around her towards the kitchen cabinets, he takes out two glass cups to put on the counter.
❝ it isn't much, but i thought we could watch some bad tv and eat some pizza. i heard the place around the corner was a delicious hole in the wall. ❞ jill smiles, waiting for him to say yay or nay.
a chuckle bubbles from him as he momentarily pivots, walking backwards a few steps towards the fridge with a boyish grin. ❝ jill valentine, how can i ever say no to a lady showing a guy a good time with bad tv and greasy pizza? even went all out and got the good stuff that clogs up the arteries. ❞ opening it up, welcoming the cool sigh against his face, carlos starts rummaging around. ❝ what do you fancy drinking tonight? ❞