#answer: jake

[priceforeverything]

Clearly, his balls haven't dropped /anon

"Some dude is all obsessed with my balls, its weird."

[priceforeverything]

"You neglected to draw for two days." It's Nikolai as Misha, not so subtly staring Jake down for depriving him of rude-humored comics.

Jake's looking up before he even speaks, the impressive shadow that Misha puts out never fails to say when he's coming. There's a little surprise on his face that it's so insistent, but who is he to deny his adoring audience?

"Hold on, hold on!"

Jake's digs in his left boot and pulls out an unsharpened carpenter's pencil, takes his knife to chisel off a point and grabs the small notebook from his effects. "Alright, alright! I got it." He doesn't mind the eyes over his shoulder, or rather, he's used to it. The drawing is pretty good, but it's more about the subject. It's making fun of one of the other mercenaries, the guy who keeps claiming how great he is- but how two times now has managed to drop his clip when he's reloading. The book is passed up to him with a conspirator's grin.

"Heh- how's that one?"

[priceforeverything]

"It could always be worse. You could be working for someone who thinks they're the good guys."

[priceforeverything]

“Start talking.”

Who are you? Who sent you? What are you? She figures it’s all implied by the triple barrels of the shotgun leveled at his chest and whatever circumstances have Jake Muller and Sarah Hawker crossing paths on what should be a solo raid…for her.

She’s done the work already. Surely, as he walked through, he’d been treated to her bloody decorating: corpses thrown about in various states of mutilation, one or two in states of strange decay and merged with oily, deflated cables of jet-black biomass. Failed mutations and resultant consumption. If he knows what he’s looking at, it’s damning.

She’d circled around behind in absolute silence, and even now she moves entirely inappropriately for something wearing the shape of a woman: too smooth, fluid and controlled, as if beneath the gore-splattered desert camouflage she is made of liquid steel.

He’s wrong, too, in that strange sixth sense that tells her when she has a problem or a Problem — and the fact Apex doesn’t forget a face (or the similarities to one) solidifies her hostile paranoia that he is here as opposition.

“If you’re here about the T samples, they’re on fire. You’re welcome, or suck it.” As required.

If someone's going to walk into some shit at the wrong time, he's starting to think it's always going to be him. Maybe he has a knack for that shit, or maybe it's just a higher percentage because of the types of jobs he takes. Either way he doesn't want to put that much thought into it, especially when he has a gun pointed that close to him. His hands are up and he sighs, just thinks of the easiest way to get out of this.

But then the nutjob with the shotgun says the samples are toast anyway so good? "Hey, if that's true, then I can just walk right on out of here. I don't give one shit about them." He just cared more that no one else got them. There's enough bullshit going on without another outbreak, or at least that's how he sees it.

"So that sound fine? I walk backwards, we leave and both of us go do something that doesn't involve a medbay for either of us."

[priceforeverything]

It’s a good thing your mother is dead so she doesn’t have to see the man you’ve become, someone who was selfish enough to risk the entire world just because he was arrogant enough to think he was worth millions. What a disappointment you are.

Get to hatin

Since they addressed her so plainly, apparently he has to answer it. That being said-

"I think you have the wrong idea of my mom. Besides you know all the other nicknames-" Zhenyechka, Yakov, Yaksko- "my mother used to call me her little Tzar."

"Also, asshole? She died because we couldn't afford treatment. So I know she wouldn't give a fuck about me demanding my worth."

[priceforeverything]

I can see why Wesker abandoned you and your mothers ass. You’re a family disappointment.

Get to hatin

"Well since I'm the only fuckin one left, pretty sure it doesn't matter if I'm the family disappointment, huh?"

[priceforeverything]

Crazy runs in the family. How long until you get too greedy for money and follow in the footsteps of those making viruses and bioweapons just for the cash?

Get to hatin

"If you think I can start making viruses, I also got a fucking bridge to sell you."

[priceforeverything]

"A dog, you say. A creature that loves unconditionally. That follows without question. That does not ask where the blood comes from, only that it smells like you. Fitting. You joke because it's easier than asking why you weren't needed. Why, when the guns quieted and the labs fell silent, no one looked back to see if you were still standing. You are not the same person. No one walks through fire and comes out with their skin untouched. But you've become good at pretending. And no one calls you on it. Not until now. So here you are, still swinging, still smirking. Still clinging to the idea that if you don't change, maybe the world didn't either. Maybe what was done to you doesn't matter if you act like it didn't happen. But blood remembers. Even when you try to forget. And when the world stops needing you again...will you be content with a dog that doesn't ask questions? Or will you miss the sound of someone finally listening? Because I'm still listening. And I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm not stupid, I know why no one looked back."

"They had what they needed. They have enough of my blood to make whatever vaccines or do whatever the fuck they needed so I'm not needed. It's not fucking rocket science." It just is what it is, what it's always been. "I mean yeah. It was nice to travel with someone. And work with someone. And maybe someday I'll find someone or whatever, or maybe I won't. But I'm still fucking young so I'm not acting like these stupid geezers and drinking my life away because I couldn't lock someone down."