dear_mun | SO ABOUT VENDETTA

Congrats. You got what you wanted, right? This is always the direction you wanted the writers to take with me.

When I started doing this, I thought I could change things. Really make some kind of difference. Thought that if Umbrella went down, everything'd go back to the way it was, and maybe I could settle down somewhere and go back to being a cop. I had this idea-- this stupid, naive idea --that if I put my all into it, I could save people. And once in awhile, I did. But mostly, I didn't. And each person I did save? I did it by shooting somebody else's loved one in the head.

I've kept myself going with that idea long enough, that if I just try a little harder, maybe I can do something about all of this. But I can't. It's a whole market, a whole economy now. Every time I take somebody down, two more nutcases pop up in their place. Everything I've done is pointless. At best, I delayed the inevitable by a couple of weeks. But it's too late to get out, and as much as I hate it, I'm good at what I do.

[and honestly, he's kind of hoping it will kill him at this point. maybe he should call Buddy sometime and admit he's a hypocrite on the whole 'life is worth living' thing.]

So I drink more than I should. Sue me.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You didn't address the important part?

[ She's taking it easy, mostly because all of this hits home on multiple levels. Let's be real, they all drink more than they should and considering the possibility of what she might look like and all the drama popping up from no romantic drama with it... joke's are a little better, aren't they?

But she'll rock talk with him if he needs a friendly and more sobering ear. ]

[maybe someday, the world will let people like them rest, but that's looking pretty unlikely at the moment.]

What important part?

[she doesn't seem like she's talking about the imminent death of his idealism, though, which he's honestly grateful for. maybe. it might be good for him to talk to it about someone who would get it. it might also end in somebody else telling him to nut up and get over it, which he's really not inclined to hear.]

[ It would be nice if while she's having to deal with this that it could be with people she knows every now and then. Not that Helena seems like a bad partner, of course. ]

What shade is it? I go for chestnut myself, but no hint of red in it. Honestly, think you work better as blonde than I did, but...

[ No, she can't talk about any of his sweet moves or commiserate on how life keeps throwing them for a loop or even how things keep escalating for all of them. Why would she go there when she can take it easy and talk about hair dye tips? Or maybe it's just the sun that bleaches it out a little more for him? Lighting? Hm. ]

Either way, can't be too pessimistic for long. If you don't take down one, then there would be three instead of two. I've already got experience with this. I retire, someone replaces me. Someone replaces them. [ It's something she's told herself, it seems. Her voice is strained and tired, less teasing. ] I know what I'm doing. Maybe it just means one less kid swept up in this, but I've gone too far to just walk away from it -- even if going off the grid somewhere sounds pretty tempting on occasion. You're holding up just fine.

[ She could do a little better when it comes to a compliment or reassurance, but this is the kind of thing she'd rather hear than something more involved. ]

Cappuccino. Or coffee, maybe. Something that'll change color with the amount of milk and sugar.

[or in his case, sunlight and therefore the ratio of time spent running across the world chasing monster-peddling drug lords versus time spent inside the White House, but coffee makes for a more entertaining metaphor.]

What's one more kid? If he makes it to the DSO, he's got skills and he wants to be there. Who am I to stop him from fulfilling his death wish?

[it's bitter, and something he could have never even imagined himself saying five years ago, but seeing mass death while being the sort of person who throws himself in front of bullets for strangers really does a number on a guy. you can only be personally invested in the life of each person you meet for so long.]

Anyway, don't worry, it's not like I'm retiring. We're in this for life, right?

...honestly, I was just messing with you. I'm a little surprised you answered. [ She almost snorts along with the little chuckle she responds with. Although she restrains it, it's still out of her control and genuine. Not a terribly rare thing for her, but it still doesn't come as often as it should. ] I prefer mine as it comes, but every now and then I don't mind it a little sweeter.

[ It's a bad joke to end all bad food-related jokes, at least she's not the kind of person to keep it running for twenty years. Small favors among friends. ]

Not stopping, preventing. If that's what someone wants, it's on them the same way no one was going to stop me. [ She gets it. After everything, she gets it. It thrums inside of her like a soft hum through muscle and sinew and skin; this is what she does. ] The difference is we don't want them to be in a situation where there's no choice, right?

[ There's no judgement, just reasoning. If she felt he needed a swift kick then she'd either do so verbally or physically, but she figures they all need a little time to be pessimistic and to let their anger stew in ways that wasn't just beating up BOWs. ]

Jumping ahead of yourself there, huh? I mean it's cute that you think we'd let you retire! [ Hand on her hips, the other raised with her elbow pressed into her waist. A half-shrug like he really did make a huge joke, an indication that she thinks it's impossible. ] We are, but it's a good thing to remember it's a we and you're always welcome on the other side if you need to change it up. We could always use a good man.

If anyone is going to manage to sweep in, dust away the cobwebs, and save the day, it's you. Sorry we spiders are making things hard on you.

[ alright, so it's said with a definite air of what seems to be amusement mixed with a hint of sarcasm, and maybe a glimpse of something softer if one were to squint, but it still counts. her arms are folded against her chest and she wears a grin -- that grin; the one that is just a little too sharp, a little too easy, to be perfectly safe. ]

Well, at least a little sorry, anyway.

Anyone who thinks you'll turn your back on that is fooling themselves. So, vodka? [ with a slight cant of her head: ] Or maybe whiskey. I can't decide what suits you better.

[...Ada would still have that faith in him after all this time, wouldn't she? he wants to respond with something pointed, but he's always had a soft spot for her, and that's still there, somewhere down there, past years and years of dealing with all of this.]

I've always been a master of self-deception. And brandy, actually. No one ever guesses.

[even if lately, he'll drink whatever as long as it's potent.]

[ oh, Leon. if she's concerned, she masks it well: a small grin playing upon her lips as she shrugs easily at him, daring to take a few steps closer but still carefully keeping him at arm's length. she wants to touch his hair, his cheek, but instead Ada settles for surveying him carefully. at least for now. ]

Brandy? I can't say that I would have guessed, either, and here I thought I was pretty good at reading you. Maybe I should study up? [ she paces a small circle around him, just to keep him on his toes. ]

You can provide the drinks, and I'll tell you how badly you're lying to yourself. For what it's worth, you've risked more than most people I know to save others, maybe even too much. It's strange but amusing to see a rare little bright spot among all this still.

SO ABOUT VENDETTA

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oh so dusty and only caught up to re5 sob

also rusty! but do play RE6, ada's route is so good!

i actually picked it up today!! so excited!