Locked to all_scarry_eyed

[deathcannotdie]

Umbrella Training Facility 23
Code Name: Barghest
2145 Local Time

The offshore oil rig operation hadn't gone as planned. Well, it had, but not exactly as HUNK would have liked it to. He should have counted on Redfield and the STARS showing up. And he had, really

Comments

[all_scarry_eyed]

The training ground looks a lot smaller than it used to. Partially because he's on the roof, partially because he can now traverse it with both hands tied behind his back (provided one had something to tie him with that was still light enough to carry around in the first place.)

Wesker's acting differently than he's used to. He's trusted less, as best he can tell--which rankles a bit, considering what he did in Spain to carry out orders. Kneeling to that--

He can stand here cataloguing greivances or he can try to find out how this HUNK sees things. He nods to himself, moving some distance away before he drops off the roof--nothing like starting the conversation with a throwing knife to the head--and approaches slowly.

"Smells like three-fifths fear of God, one part misery, and one part hatred. Takes me back." The next question is really just to make it easier to talk about Umbrella's future. "Something coming I should know about?"

[deathcannotdie]

HUNK watches Jack approach, uncrossing his arms. He wasn't going to come right out and say it, but noone had gotten that close without HUNK knowing they were there in a long time. Impressive.

He tilts his head (unmasked, for now) to regard Jack, then turns back to watch the troops moving away.

"I haven't recieved any orders yet. Wesker has been keeping to himself mostly. No, I've been getting these pathetic excuses for soldiers into something that resembles fighting shape. They've grown lax...lazy. A guaranteed invitation into the grave."

[all_scarry_eyed]

For a moment, he's thinking like a sort of diplomat of lab specimens. Three feet was more than close enough to lunge in and get his hands on a lab tech's neck in an eyeblink, and they all knew it. HUNK, being trained for these sorts of situation, would probably expect--

--yeah, wait, this is HUNK. Like he cares. Krauser moves to normal speaking range, likewise glancing over at the weary soldiers.

"It's going to be interesting, seeing what he's hatched." To say the least; he hasn't been around long enough to have the full story, but news on Birkin--an unsplattered Birkin, that's new--has been of great interest.

Not the least because his best protection against being the target of curious rival organizations is Umbrella.

"Has that group seen combat?" There's an unspoken 'even' in there. He's trying not to rub salt into the irritation.

[deathcannotdie]

If HUNK were the sort to laugh, he would be right now. Instead, he lets out an amused snort.

"Aside from that catastophe on the oil rig? No. By official means, they have. All of them are ex-military. One was even a Green Beret. But real combat..."

He turns to face Krauser.

"Real combat like you and I have seen? No. Not even close. I'm sure we've both seen things that would make even the hardest of these men wet his pants in fear. And that's what I have to fix here."