#rottenend

[thruteeth]

he goes where the moneys good. leaves the argument of morality at the door when enough zeroes stack up and a package in need of delivering is waiting to pass between hands. paid not to look.. not to ask questions. he's in the belly of the rendezvous, no squad in sight. somewhere, up on the ridge line, there's a scope trained on the area. there's a voice in his ear, rattling off the necessary coordinates and tracking a vehicle past the cover of mostly baren trees, into the sprawl where he's paced the grass flat in wait.

@v0id0ut , hunk knew him through reputation and the sort of investigating that came off the tail end of a close call and downtime to kill. competent. good enough at his job. wouldn't have been his first choice, but no one asked and he hadn't offered. tension could be saved for when it was needed and, here, his rifle slung back over his shoulder, it's a vote of confidence that that time wouldn't be now.

" you're early, " which made him extra so. a hidden grin appreciates what his tongue will not, " —guess we can go ahead and get this over with then. " in the casual, albeit careful, approach. in the nod towards a cargo van quivering in mock anticipation. no one here was excited. no one here was anything more than bored of a routine that lended itself towards longevity at the cost of enthusiasm.

" sooner we're done, sooner we avoid the patrols. " dispatching them would be easy. he'd watched from the mouth of three birch trees while a set of sentries marched their predictable path. placed the forehead of the furthest in the center of crosshairs and mimed pulling the trigger in his boredom. but that's not what he was here for. behind doors that open slow.. that's what he's charged with. " good thing i'm not paid by the hour. "

[thruteeth]

it's a joke, passed around those in his profession ; baby sitting jobs pay the best. someone with deep pockets and a clumsy bloodline, she's not his first, won't be his last, and in the third stop of the waning day, hunk stands a quiet sentry beside a van still purring with heat and stalled life. where a driver, fidgety and sharp-eyed, can be watched in his peripherals — not one of his crew, couldn't be trusted — and his charge still sits center focus, crouched in a bloom of what may as well have been weeds how he's regarded them. one step too close and she'd moved faster than expected.

" i wasn't hired to help you garden, " muffled, it feeds through the filter of his respirator and comes off harsher than intended. grazes the belly of patronizing and seeks understanding in two huffs and a step closer, " make it quick. "

from over her shoulder, his shadow is broad. it blots out the sun overhead and casts a long, long darkness into the cluster of greens and whites and a pinch of blue he makes out in varying shades of red. more flowers. more distractions. his knowledge of the fujimaru girl is limited, as he figured her father liked, but this would have been good to know about before taking the back roads. his reminder that, sometimes, the straight path, roadblocks and all, was the easier choice.

" @rhodeshillcare , your drop-off is o-six-hundred, " and time, unlike him, waited for no one. it give credence to a revved engine and how he adjusts the grip on his firearm. taps a readied finger over a trigger while the rest of that gulf is trekked and he's turned himself unavoidable. " up, we've gotta go. "

[thruteeth]

theirs is dirty work when done wrong. it's a dozen bodies in a dozen pieces, each of which confused with the bits before them. and when done right ? the time between drop off and pick up is long. it's an irritating walk through a mountain range or the muck of an old, forgotten marsh. neither of those sat behind him, at least, and despite knowing jack was there, drifted in and out of peripherals, he hadn't made a move to acknowledge him. sat still, arms folded and breaths even behind a mask that offered his vitals in stark, ruby tint.

" i don't make a habit out of drinking on the job. " his voice, cool and leveled, spikes with an implied jab. nothing to provoke.. no real judgement. the major was vetted. baptized in the same fires of war as himself — if he wanted a drink, there was a terrified tender behind the bar at his back, her eyes shifting, repeatedly, for an exit that must have looked awful tempting by now.

dawn is hours out, he didn't need the glow of his watch to tell him that much. two men failed to meet the rendezvous and, while the loss would be his to detail, it doesn't hold his focus long. can't keep him from feeding a curiosity that would be sprouting teeth, soon, if not stroked.

" you want to do something for me ? take a seat. " his neck can't crane far enough from where he's perched and hunk's stopped trying to gauge his expressions to make that headache worth it. @subestimacion didn't move because he ordered him to, but there was a quiet truce he tempted to the surface while hooking his boot at the leg of the stool beside him, tugging it forward in a wobble, " can pretend its an order if you want. "

[thruteeth]

Q. " do you really think that's helpful right now ? "

helpful has nothing to do with it. fingers moving a practice run across bloodied keys before the code he'd memorized two hours prior is tapped in in place of a password. the screen flickers, blips out, then unspools umbrella's logo with all the fanfare of some great reveal. cute. two folders over, it's the data he'd been sent for, one right click escorting all that corruption onto a disk he'd frisked from his breast pocket without looking. it'll take a minute ( or several ) and, for knowing that, she'd chipped off a fraction of his already divided attention.

" keep going if you want, " muffled by his mask as it is, there's an undertow that can't be hidden. almost a chuckle. almost. happenstance and close calls had made her a decent enough companion, but theirs wasn't a shared goal and incidental camaraderie didn't equate to much once he'd shaken the circumstantial nature from it.

30% and counting, hunks gaze keeps that small, swelling bar in his peripherals while the lab around them, disheveled and ichor smeared, is taken in. poor bastards hadn't stood a chance. caught off-guard, their charges likely the ones that staggered on the opposing side of thick but quivering glass. " they're slow, you can run around them. " his hip against the corner of the desk, further evidence that @joyousdefunct was on her own if she was feeling lucky, " ..if you're in such a hurry. "

[thruteeth]

he isn't paid to ask questions. they don't give him a guide to navigate the stipulations of the missions he's tasked with and he's glad for it. makes it easier when his path parts from his squad and a course meant for him and him alone leads down the choke of an alley. lined with the rusted teeth of forgotten fire escapes, he knows the figure he's looking for. picked it out of a lineup for target practice, once. put a few extra zeroes on a nice, plump payday, though, and even a good dog knew how to roll over for someone else. " this could've been handled in an email. " as good an introduction as he's keen to make, the pit-pat of rain hitting the slant of his helmet with a continual racket. " wesker, " not sir, that title was dead and buried as the man himself was meant to be. " i'll take the details now. "

@auserwahlt , ♡