trans_9 | you think you're cursed it's what you deserve; [open]

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you think you're cursed it's what you deserve; [open]

Claire Redfield isn't the type of person to sit quietly when she's got a lot on her mind, sorting all the thoughts out into a neat little row until they make sense to her. She wishes she were that organized, but even when she's filing reports her associates in TerraSave always complained about how chaotic her way of going about things seemed to be.

On the meatship things aren't much different. Her thoughts blurred together, one running into another until they made even less sense than they did starting out. Whenever she got to this point, she needed to find a way to burn off excess frustration, and work her thoughts out in a more productive manner.

So, if anyone is looking for Claire, she's down on the Precinct's practice range. She could have easily gone to the Sensoriums, but she's decided she's not a terribly huge fan of simulated reality. It's a little more satisfying to her to be standing on a real range with actual surroundings as opposed to one of Stacy's training programs, anyway. She also figured she was less likely to be bothered down here, while people tended to wander into the Sensoriums rather regularly.

As it is, she's practicing accuracy with a throwing knife. It's been a long time since she practiced, Chris would probably yell at her if he knew exactly how long, but now that things were more or less picking up, she felt like it was probably one of the skills she should probably be brushing up on. Not to mention it was incredibly satisfying, throwing the blade and visualizing her target as all her current problems.

"Damn it!" she muttered as her fifth knife went high, hitting outside of her target range. Her aim was a little rusty, partly due to everything frustrating her, partly due to lack of practice. She exhaled through her nose, walking down the range to collect her knives and start again.

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Chris happened to be out taking a walk, having left his crutch behind and was now walking with a very slight limp, hardly noticeable really. He had seen Claire throwing a few of the knives, and could instantly tell, something was up. Rusty or not, only when things were starting to come to a boil is when she got that rusty.

As such, once Claire gathered the knives up and began to return to the end of the range, she would see Chris, waiting for her there, wearing a very familiar and understanding smile.

"Something bothering you, sis?"

When Claire saw Chris she groaned inwardly, starting back towards him at a slower pace than she'd walked down. Considering Chris was, on his own, at least part of the reasons she was annoyed, she wasn't all that happy to see him. He was her brother and she loved him, but this whole biohazard thing with Steve was stressing her out. Badly.

As she got closer she was weighing the options of making a run for it. She'd always been the faster Redfield, even with Chris's additional size and strength he still had a lot more bulk to haul around, plus he was still injured, but she decided it wasn't really worth it. Instead she just exhaled through her nose at his question, stopping where she'd been standing before and placed the throwing knives down on the bench.

"Nope," she looked down, picking up her first knife again and turning around so her back was to Chris. "Just practicing,"

Chris sighed, knowing instantly he had done something to piss his sister off. He didn't like it when she was mad at him, but this time he was unsure of what he did to cause it. He instantly thought of Sherry, but remembered that it was Leon that had been the one who had gotten pissed - and understandably so - about that subject.

Which left him with... well, not much. In addition to being the faster one, Claire was also the more educated one, and in Chris' mind, that equated with more complex reasoning. Regardless, he knew his sister good enough to know how to handle the situation, and just let Claire throw a few knives in silence before speaking.

"Claire, I don't know what's wrong, or what I did this time, but you know you can talk to me about anything."

Chris standing there didn't really help her aim much, even when she wasn't looking at him she could feel his eyes on her back, and while most of what she'd been frustrated for was that two members of her makeshift family had been brought to this place for the sole reason of experimentation, Chris's comments to Leon about Sherry hadn't gone unnoticed.

"I don't get," she replied, flinging another knife, hit going high again, "why you think you're the only one on this ship who is qualified to handle biohazards." Training or not, Claire thought she was pretty fucking qualified.

And that one sentence was all that it took for Chris to realize just what was eating on her. He sighed a bit, looking more than a little exhausted, and all around older than he really should. "I don't," he said simply. Yes, Claire had proven that she was capable of handling herself in a biohazard situation, and had exceeded every expectation anyone had for her.

But still, in Chris' mind, she wasn't qualified - not that he would actually say that - because she wasn't trained in certain disposal procedures, have quite the field experience he did, or any number of things he had mentally filed away, in case he needed to defend his position. But mainly, it came down to not wanting his sister to have to go through the Hell that he had. She deserved better.

"Claire, I know you're more than capable. I know you can hold your own. You've proven that so many times already. But let me worry about keeping track of this sort of thing. This is my job..." He trailed off as a lump formed in his throat, but soon he found his voice again.

"Claire, you've been through Hell. So has Leon, Sherry, and Steve. You've earned a break from it... You just concentrate on being the best damn mom you can be to that little girl, okay? You deserve it. I don't want you having to worry about any kind of resurgence, or symptom flares... let me do that, okay? Let me do that, so you don't have to."

Claire scoffed at that, rolling her eyes as she turned to face Chris again. While deep down part of her knew and appreciated that this was just her big brother trying to protect her, for the most part she was just annoyed right now.

"Do you realize what a waste of time it is telling me not to worry? Jesus, Chris. It's not like I can shut it off!" She waved the knife she was holding around while she spoke before slamming it back down on the bench. "And you know, we handled things long before you showed up. Sherry is fine, and Steve is going to be fine. He's working with Luke Skywalker to keep his emotions in check."

Chris rubbed at his forehead. He wasn't annoyed really, just frustrated. He realized it would do no good to tell Claire not to worry, but he had been compelled to do it anyway. Now, he was just trying to climb out of the hole he had dug himself.

"I'm not saying don't worry, Claire... just not about that. I know you did a damn fine job of handling things before I showed up, and could keep on doing it for as long as it took. That's not the issue. I'm here now. I'm saying you don't need to worry about that any more. You've got more important things to worry about. That little girl needs you, and looks up to you as if you were her real mother. Seriously Claire... you can stop being a TerraSave member, and start being a normal woman."

He was glad that she put the knife down, though he knew that he was never in any danger. He was really more worried she might accidentally hurt herself. Regardless he put a hand on her shoulder when she did put it down.

"Claire, you know that all I want for you is to give you a normal life. Given the circumstances, I don't think that's going to be possible. Please, sis... it may not be normal, but at least it's as close to normal as possible... let me take care of the rest..."

Chris didn't know who this Luke Skywalker was, but he would definitely be making contact with him to talk about how Steve was doing. Right now, though, Claire took precedence over the rest.

She stared at Chris for a beat, her mouth half open and her brows knitting together. Once she recovered from the urge to hit her brother in the face, she threw her hands up and rolled her eyes skyward.

"Don't you think if I wanted a normal life I would've gotten a normal life?" She looked back at him, her look severe. "And, you know, now is really not the time."

Now Chris was just plain confused. He didn't understand why his sister didn't want a normal life, and even if he could, he had no idea what other kind of life she would want.

"Okay, fine, what do you want if you don't want a normal life? And if not now, when?"

Chris never had been the kind to sit around when something was bothering him, and his sister was at the top of his worry list.

Claire made a frustrated noise, barely resisting to stomp her foot in annoyance, shifting around to cross her arms instead.

"I want you to stop trying to protect me from this. I've survived four outbreaks. God only knows what's ahead of us on this ship." She shook her head, looking off to the side. "Normal isn't really an option, as long as we're here."

Chris was starting to get a little frustrated as well. He loved his sister dearly, but she could be so stubborn at times. Then again, he could be as well, not that he would ever admit that.

"You think I don't know that, Claire!? You think this is my idea of a good time? You can't live in fear of what's coming down the line, dammit, you have to live in the here and now. Otherwise, you're going to end up driving everyone close to you away, and losing your grip on your sanity! We don't know what's coming next. That's part of being human! Will it really do any good to worry about things you can't change, and always be worried about what's coming next?"

Chris sighed, lowering his voice slightly. "For crying out loud, Claire, take some time to enjoy Leon and Sherry. Coming down here and brooding while you throw knives around isn't doing anyone any good, sis... There's a little girl that needs you and loves you dearly, and - as awkward as it may be for me to admit it - Leon needs you too. If you want to train, do it with Leon and Sherry. The next time something does happen, the crew may be split up again, and you'll have missed out on spending some quality time with them. I know I have no room to be talking really. Joining the military when you went to College, while rewarding in some ways, will be something I wish I had held off on for the rest of my life. I missed out on spending so much time with you when you were on vacations. Not to mention when I got so wound up in my own personal vendetta against Wesker that I never thought about you coming to find me..."

Chris sighed, his face falling into an almost paternal look. "Don't make the same mistakes, Claire. Work is the one thing keeping me sane after some of the things I've dealt with in Africa... but you at least have a family to care for. Don't miss out on time with them Claire..."

"I'm not," she said flatly, cocking her head to the side. "I've been down here for maybe an hour. Sherry's studying right now, and Leon's taking care of some Chief of Security stuff." She didn't know what he expected her to do, force them together at all hours of the day?

"I'm not... cutting myself off from any of my family. If I was I wouldn't have chosen here of all places if I was trying to avoid them." Considering Leon was frequently in the Precinct, and Sherry knew to come here if she ever needed anything as well, this was the last place to go if she was trying to isolate herself completely.

Chris was at a loss for what to say now. He still felt that there was a point to be made, but, at this point, he wasn't going to push it. Instead, he just sighed and pushed off the wall he was leaning on, wincing slightly as his leg was still exceptionally sore.

"Whatever, just, remember what I said, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." She was still annoyed, and turned away from him again. Likely she'd feel bad for being short with him later, but right now she was pretty much at a point where anything further he said to her would probably just aggravate her.

Here Claire have a very tall Spartan woman joining you at the range. Kelly, to be honest, hadn't known about the Precinct. Had she known, she would no doubt have shared Claire's opinions about simulated reality. There just wasn't anything that could beat the real deal. No matter how real Stacy tricked her mind into believing it was.

So here she came, a huge duffel bag containing a veritable arsenal of weapons over her shoulder. Setting the bag down, she pulled a table over, set a chair behind it and proceeded to lay out the weapons neatly on the table. She stopped for a brief moment to nod politely at Claire before continuing her work.

Once the assortment of rifles, pistols, knives, a shotgun, a rocket launcher, and various grenades were laid out on the table, she reached into the bag to pull out a cleaning kit, opening it and setting it beside her before picking up a pistol. Pulling the empty magazine from it, she set it aside and quickly disassembled the gun, beginning the cleaning process.

She paid Claire no mind until she heard the cursing and lifted her head, tilting it to the side slightly.

"Bad throw?" Her tone was casual as if these things just happened all the time.

Claire didn't really pay the other woman much attention until she spoke up. She was focused, after all. When she was spoken to, however, she stopped, rubbing her forearm across her forehead.

"My throwing aim is a little rusty," she offered by way of explanation, even if her bad aim only was partially to blame on disuse. Claire had always had excellent hand-eye coordination, so it was a little abnormal for her A game to only be mustering a C or B average. As she replaced her knives on her own table she glanced at Kelly's arsenal, tilting her head slightly.

"Are you military?" She looked like she probably was, but there were also a lot of really bizarre soldiers-of-the-street types around here.

(http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Da_Jalman/Kelly-087/?action=view&current=K.png)

Kelly's brown eyes watched the woman curiously. They hadn't met before, but this woman seemed to know what she was doing with a knife. Standing up, she set down the SMG she'd been cleaning and walked over to Claire's table looking down at the knives for a moment.

"May I?" She waited for an answer before she would touch the knives. One didn't simply touch the weapons of others after all. That was one thing you learned quickly in the Military. But she knew a little something about weaponry and if she could help at all, well, she didn't see any reason why she shouldn't.

"Navy actually. Petty Officer Second Class, SPARTAN-087." She threw a casual salute. "But you can call me Kelly."

She nodded her head at Kelly's request to handle the knives, not particularly minding. They were mostly practice knives she'd hauled out of the Armory anyway, the only one that was hers was a special forces combat knife with the S.T.A.R.S. insignia branded on the steel, sitting towards the end of the row.

"It's nice to meet you, Kelly." Claire smiled, leaning back on her heels a little. "I'm Claire Redfield."

(http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Da_Jalman/Kelly-087/?action=view&current=Sweet.png)

Picking one up, she twirled it between her fingers for a moment. Watching the blade move in her hand. Frowning, she hefted it in her palm for a moment before quickly turning it over and flicking it at the target. She hadn't meant to throw it quite so hard, but the knife hit the board hard enough to sink the blade three quarters of the way into the target, just left of the center. "Hmn. The weight's a little off."

She'd noted the combat knife of course. Very nice. But she wasn't about to try throwing that yet.

"Same here, Claire." She smiled in return. "You been on the ship long?"

She watched Kelly's form with the knife, a little impressed by the speed in which the tall woman moved. Claire was used enough to the different things on this ship, though, that she wasn't completely blown away.

"I've been here a few months, yeah," she replied, her eyes moving from the target at the edge of the range back to Kelly. "You?"

(http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Da_Jalman/Kelly-087/?action=view&current=Well.png)

It wasn't so impressive if one knew just how she got to be so fast or how she'd been fighting really. When you'd fought as long as her, you had to get good. Or you didn't manage to fight that long in the end. Kelly, truth be told, was rather jealous of the metas on the ship. They had such power. But she had the discipline. So it all evened out in the end.

"I've been here about that long. It's hard to keep track, really." Picking up another knife, she threw it after the first. A little gentler this time. The knife still pulled a little to the left. Hmn. Who had made these things?

Claire nodded her head, watching Kelly throw the next knife.

"The weight is a little off. I haven't been able to find anything with a more even distribution. With the exception of my own knife, anyway." She motioned at the S.T.A.R.S. issue knife.

"We'll have to get some made then. I'm sure I can make passable practice knives down in Engineering. These aren't so bad, but really, in combat, you'd want your gear to be perfect." Tilting her head, she looked down at the combat knife.

"May I?"

"I'm more of a gun person for ranged combat, I was just practicing the throwing because it's... been a while." And it's super cathartic to throw things. She nodded her head at Kelly's inquiry.

"By all means."

(http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Da_Jalman/Kelly-087/?action=view&current=ThinkingScarred.png)

"Me too, but out on the battlefield, you never know what you'll need to rely on in a pinch." Not that Spartans were ever really in 'pinches' but she'd been trained to think that way.

She nodded, setting another knife down to pick up the combat knife on the end of the table, turning it over in her palm and eying the blade admiringly. "It's a good blade. Though more for close work, isn't it? The weight seems right for throwing too, though."

Claire nodded her head, smiling a little. "It's a modified KA-BAR combat knife. My brother used to be on a Special Forces unit that had them. He gave me this one." And even though she was a little annoyed with her brother right now, it was fairly obvious that was a sentiment she appreciated. Granted when he'd first started training her she'd thought of it more as a game than anything.

The knife rolled easily over the backs of her fingers, from one end of her knuckles to the other as she twirled it with the skill of someone who had done just that, many many times. "It's a good blade."

She smiled as well, setting it down on the table again. "Were you in the Special Forces too?" And don't worry, Kelly knew all about annoying brothers.

"No, I wasn't. He trained me, though." Which explained why despite the fact that her aim with a knife was a little rusty, her form was very good. She shook her head, her smile widening somewhat.

"I've never been much of a girly-girl." Somehow she thought Kelly would be able to relate to that.

(http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Da_Jalman/Kelly-087/?action=view&current=Chuckle.png)

"Looks like you took to it pretty well." Her own smile widened as well. She'd noticed the perfect form. And even if the aim was a little off, Kelly was more than prepared to blame that on the knives. In part anyway.

That got a laugh. "I know what that's like. But then, considering how I was raised, it'd be surprising if I was."

"I always was a fast learner," Claire replied, glancing down at the knives on the table and picking one up again, for something to do with her hands. She looked back up at Kelly, tilting her head to the side, a little curious.

"How were you raised, if you don't mind my asking?" There was a definite aura of warrior woman around Kelly, so it wouldn't surprise her if the woman came from some planet full of Amazons or, at least some kind of similar civilization. She'd designated herself as a Spartan, and while a lot of it had sounded like modern military, Claire wondered if it was some alternate universe where ancient Greek culture was still alive and well.

(http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Da_Jalman/Kelly-087/?action=view&current=Chuckle.png)

"It's pretty obvious by the way you handle those knives. You've got perfect form with them. Not many people can pull that off." Well, not many normal people at any rate. Kelly had swiped her sidearm off the table again and was wiping it down as she spoke. It wasn't to be rude, she just preferred to multi-task.

"Military child. It was all I knew growing up. It only made sense that I'd be a part of it when I was old enough." Okay, so it wasn't an outright lie. She didn't see the need to keep that information in check now that ONI was gone along with the rest of her universe. Besides, this woman, from the look of it wasn't from the same universe anyway. Where was the harm? But she instinctively held back the full story. As per her orders.

Claire wasn't particularly put off by people withholding information about their personal history from her, especially where the military was involved. She grew up around the types, too, and her best friend was a government agent. As frustrating as not knowing everything could be sometimes, she'd also come to accept that there were some things people just weren't going to be okay with sharing.

"Are you involved with the ship Security at all?"

(http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Da_Jalman/Kelly-087/?action=view&current=Oh.png)

It wasn't that Kelly didn't trust her. It was simply that Kelly didn't trust anyone. Sure, she liked people and liked getting to know them. But she didn't trust too easily. She'd seen what happened to her brothers and sisters who'd given trust away too freely. And she wouldn't let it happen to her.

"No I'm not. I leave that to my brother. I'm more of a soldier than an officer anyway."

Claire turned the knife she was holding over in her fingers, examining the blade absently before looking up at what Kelly had said.

"Your brother's on the ship, too?" She was a little surprised by that. She knew a lot of people had friends from their worlds, and a few family members, but she hadn't encountered too many other siblings.

(http://s16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Da_Jalman/Kelly-087/?action=view&current=Oh.png)

Her eyes followed the knife as it twirled through the other woman's fingers. It wasn't a wary gaze, just an interested one.

At the question, she lifted her head as well, meeting Claire's eyes for a moment before nodding. "He is. We're not blood related. But we might as well be." They'd grown up together, fought countless battles, nearly died innumerable times. If that didn't make them family she didn't know what did.

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you think you're cursed it's what you deserve; [open]

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