Ghosts of Old Loves | closed starter with @youmissedone
“Yes, I’m angry!” Catalina snapped. Rage burst through her and burned in her dark eyes. What weren’t these people understanding? The survivor group in the prison made sense. They didn’t know her, didn’t know her history. But the rest were her convoy — her family! What more did she have to say to the few people who’d survived? Why couldn’t they get the emotions she was feeling so strongly right now?
Ailani didn’t really know Catalina. She’d been friendly with Luther and the others after escaping from Raccoon City, and she’d tried her best to fit in and contribute to the group. Her anxiety and her clairvoyance had overwhelmed her a bit because of the sheer amount of people in the group, and the convoy’s numbers only made things worse. Ailani had only met Catalina a few times, mostly when the convoy first arrived. She tried her best to be open with the new group even if it meant she needed to take mental breaks every so often.
“Why wouldn’t I be? The man I love sacrificed himself, and it meant nothing. Half my convoy is gone by now, and the corporation responsible for all of this is still at large. I’m forced to worry about surviving — again — even though I was promised that spying would be my only worry once I signed on with Umbrella. Umbrella trapped and killed half of anyone who mattered to me and made us think that it was going to be a utopia. So, yeah, I’m angry! Fuck that and fuck anyone who had anything to do with it!”
With that, Catalina stalked off from her position and started making her way towards the back of the group. Ailani’s attention moved from the spy to the man by her side as the rest of the prisoners discussed her little speech. She’d seen him around before, mostly wherever Catalina went, but they’d never spoken before. She drummed her fingers on the floor in an attempt to get his attention.
“She can’t see you,” Ailani explained gently. Her voice never rose above a whisper — her “talent” wasn’t exactly public knowledge, and she had no desire to disturb this ghost if he didn’t want to be bothered. Not every ghost knew that they were no longer in the realm of the living, so she always tried to be gentle when explaining their situation to them. “None of them can. You’re… not alive anymore.”
What did Ailani know about Carlos even without him telling her? He was following — haunting — Catalina Cisneros. An enemy, maybe? The woman’s tenacity and profession seemed to make her many enemies, but for whatever reason, Ailani didn’t think that was it. Something about his expression or his body language seemed more affectionate than that.
“I’m Ailani Ka’ana’ana, but you can call me Lani. Everybody does.” Ailani smiled softly at him. “I can see you, but this isn’t the first time. I mean, uh, you’ve been haunting her for a while now. I don’t know either of you very well, but… you must have a reason for that.”
“You’re here because something’s unresolved, probably. Most ghosts can’t go back to the afterlife with unresolved problems. You know that, though.”
Before Ailani could ask any more questions, Catalina had sat down next to her. She jumped a bit, for she hadn’t seen the other woman coming. How much of that conversation had she heard? What would she think if she knew the truth?
“Ailani, right?” Catalina asked. She’d seemed to be off in her own world, and Luther had explained after her outburst that if Catalina wanted a quiet moment, she should speak with this woman. Her style of dress wasn’t very formal, but to be fair, Catalina’s wasn’t either. Ailani used to be a soldier, from what Catalina had heard, but for some reason, she’d decided to work with the local survivor groups. It reminded her of Carlos. Carlos. God, would her heart always ache when she thought of him? “I’m Catalina Cisneros.”
“Just Lani is fine,” she clarified. “I was wondering… what’s your story?“
“It’s nothing special.” Catalina wrapped her arms around herself. The chill in the air from Carlos’ presence must’ve been something she noticed, but Ailani didn’t say anything about it. Her eyes darted to the left — her one tell. Carlos would’ve picked up on it instantly; she was lying through her teeth. The next part, though, rang true, and that was why Catalina said it. She knew any survivor could resonate with it. “I want my life back.”
“Tell me about it,” Ailani prodded, nodding a bit in Carlos’ general direction. Hopefully, she’d cued him in. I want my life back. How many times had she said that herself? How many times had she heard it said? “I want to know. Any of it. All of it. Whatever you feel like sharing.”
The remark was bitter and brutal, yet Catalina made no effort to tone it down in any way, shape, or form. She might not have been innocent, but she certainly wasn't good, either. On nights like these, Catalina wanted to grab Carlos and shake him by the shoulders. What did she have to do for him to realize she was rotten and wicked and horrible? What did she have to do to get him to dump her for being a bad person?
"You're wrong, Carlos. I'm not good, and I'm not soft, and I'm not kind. I do what I have to do; the world needs more people like that. If everyone let their heart best them, we'd never have efficient spies."
Carlos had been someone Wanda had worked alongside ever since her HYDRA days. While the two of them had realised that perhaps they had been lied to, they knew it wouldn't be safe for either of them to try and break free, not when they had seen just what could happen to someone if they did just that. And so, they had to bide their time. When the Avengers raided their base, they were separated, with Wanda going with her brother and siding with a maniacal robot and Carlos being brought into SHIELD. Eventually, however, fate brought them back together and they were soon working alongside each other once more.
Their final moments came in the battle to save Earth from the mad Titan, Thanos. Wanda had lost the love of her life, Vision, had been snapped out of existence only to be brought back once more to face the monster who had ripped her heart out. She had given it everything she had, but in the end, he too would be the one to end her life. As she lay dying, Carlos had been the one to hold her close. They had said their last goodbyes, with Wanda telling him that he had been her anchor before she was gone.
Of course, that wasn't the end. In her time during HYDRA, samples had been taken from her, as well as many of the other subjects. While she hadn't known what they'd been needed for, SHIELD and the Avengers would soon find out that HYDRA had been involved in cloning, with one of their models being Wanda. And while most of the clones had been destroyed before their bases had been infiltrated, a few had survived, including one within the walls of the base they were now searching through.
There was a shudder that went alongside the feeling of Carlos' fingers brushing down her spine. Her head had been resting against his chest, her own fingers tracing invisible patterns over the skin after they had finished. She hadn't wanted for him to leave just yet, enjoying him being close. "Careful, you keep these kinds of touches up, we might be going for another round before I let you leave," she teased, gazing up at him with a smile. "Though I have a feeling you wouldn't hate that."
[youmissedone] if i’m gonna die, i need to know i killed those bastards first.
“You’re not gonna die Carlos, I’m not fucking letting you,” Leon snarled, not angry at Carlos exactly but perhaps taking out his worry on the man as he desperately attempted to staunch the blood until the medics could get there to take over.
“Besides which, you didn’t kill the bastards, I did because you’re fucking useless at anything except blowing your allies up with tanks and you can’t die because you still need to make it up to me.”
Maybe he’s just a touch concerned that Carlos actually will die. Just a touch.
“ GO! JUST GO! ” that was definitely an order , there’s no room for argument , a small amount of desperation laced into claire’s normally steady inclination. she came barreling around that corner like no tomorrow. there tomorrow’s are limited these days. the apocalypse and all. no single , normal zombie scares her anymore. it’s just got to be something else. claire holds out a hand , shoving carlos hard , get him moving faster even quicker. she raises her gun , fires it , but not at anything but the window of the building they’re in.
one last look behind her , a zombie dog comes sliding around the corner down the hall. growling , bleeding , drooling. those might be leftover intestines in it’s mouth. she doesn’t want to be close enough to figure it out. normally the smaller towns are relatively easy to handle , but every now and again and animal will escape being eaten alive by it’s human counterparts and instead be infected enough to continue to run around. those are the worst. good thing they haven’t encountered cats -- maybe cats are the cure. who really knows. not her panic.
it’s claire that volunteers to go first , jumping at the window , shoulder first , crashing through the window pane and rolling outside. cement digs into her shoulder , she can feel the skin breaking , that’s going to scratch. but she’s on her feet in the street again. outside of the mini mart. she braces , aims her glock.
One thing Claire would never get used to was the silence. For years, she was haunted by moans, growls, or screams. To travel through the streets and not hear anything except the engine of her motorcycle, it was a blessing. A welcomed reprieve. And it was all because of one woman who refused to let Umbrella take her down.
The respect and love she held for Alice was unbreakable. She watched, over and over, as she sacrificed herself without hesitation to dismantle the corporation that had ruined the world. She bore witness to Alice’s second chance and the world’s rebirth.
Now, if she could only find her brother, Chris...
She had made plans to meet Alice halfway across the country in a week’s time. Her friend was working tirelessly to spread the airborne antivirus and find survivors, while Claire worked on searching for Chris. She knew he was still alive, and records within The Hive had shown that his status was unknown.
There’s still hope.
Claire knew she would travel to the ends of the earth to find her only living family. She still felt guilty over the fact that the last time they were together, she barely recalled who he was. Like Alice, she’d never forgive the company for stealing her memories. They were clear as crystal now, though, and she refused to be played with again.
Stopping for some supplies, the redhead made her way towards a gas station. The scene took her back to the desert, though there were no shambling corpses here. Regardless, she had her gun out and ready in case something decided to make itself known. Parking her bike, she got onto her feet and approached it, cautious as always.
