A/N: FF still isn't allowing my favorite telepathy symbols. ((cries)) Until this changes, ( if it ever does ) thought-speak will be put in double parentheses and (( look like this )). I also use the double parentheses in place of the now-banned asterisks to denote actions at the end-of-the-chapter notes.
Mile-Marker! With this chapter this fic is now longer than Crimson Africa! Here's to lasting this long! ((laughs at play on words))
Chapter 24
There was no warning. One second the Veronica-falcon was soaring the skies happily--free as a song, minding her own business, and the next there were sharp pains tearing through her back as powerful talons sank in through feather and flesh.
" Screeeeeeet! " The surprised shapeshifter cried out. What was going on here?! Who would have the audacity to attacker her?! Swiveling her neck, she had just enough time to register a flash of yellow and black before a hooked beak ripped into the muscles of her right wing: exactly where the wing connected to the body. (( Hey! Stop that! Ow! )) Blood gushed from the punctures and stuck the feathers to her skin like a warm, sticky glue.
Her attacker, the marshal eagle she'd spotted off in the distance earlier, tightened it's grip and began flying off with the hapless falcon who had dared to invade it's territory.
Hapless, but definitely not helpless. Initial shock was replaced with anger and the urge to survive. (( Oh, I'll bet you think you're so cool, don't you? The big bad wolf of the skies. Let's see how tough you feel after this! )) Though her telepathic words were lost on the big raptor, the powerful electrical shock she sent surging through every cell of her body registered loud and clear.
With a painful screech, the mighty eagle dropped her and fell; a helpless pinwheel of black and white feathers spiraling towards the ground. Veronica fell too, but only for about half a minute. It took about that long for her wounds to completely heal, spilled blood to vanish, and ruffled feathers to stiffen and straighten out. On the way down she flared her wings and tail feathers and gripped the nice sturdy branch of a tall tree with both feet. She then gave a falcon-sneeze of disgust, fluffing the feathers along her head and neck.
(( The nerve! )) She glanced off to the right, saw the injured eagle flapping slowly back up into the sky, surely regretting his decision to attack innocent falcons. (( Served you right, featherbrain! )) Veronica threw after him.
Five hundred years and she still hadn't given up her habit of talking to animals.
The eagle would be okay, she knew. But he had learned a valuable lesson that would hopefully stick with him throughout the remainder of his life. Satisfied, the sorceress returned her attention to the lay of the land.
Lycandits growled and snorted below, constantly on the prowl for new prey. Serpentines slithered slowly into shadowy hiding, waiting to seize any who strayed. Off to the far left, in a man-made clearing surrounded on all sides by woods, stood a sorry excuse for a village of natives who had taken up residence on the island sometime during the 150 year span Veronica had been absent. The falcon tilted her head to one side, regarding the village with mild interest.
There was a cluster of about twenty or so huts constructed crudely of mud, fronds, thatch, and wood. A few dark-skinned natives bustled about among these, constructing primitive spears, knives, and other useless weapons that weren't going to do them a dang bit of good to defend them against the infusion of strange new creatures plaguing their homeland.
No, not their homeland, my homeland. These poor saps didn't stand a chance. Not against Veronica's pets. Her sharp eye caught the tattered remains of a tribesman all mutilated and torn to pieces at the foot of a giant mud statue tribute to some crackpot god these backward nobodies worshipped.
All the god he was doing them now.
Judging from the looks of things, these villagers weren't fairing so well. Already half the huts were empty, and the way things were looking now that number was soon to be on the rise.
Veronica shook her head, a very human gesture which was an odd motion for a peregrine flacon. These people were going to be massacred. She opened her wings and took to the air once more.
Oh well. It was no concern of hers. Law of the jungle: kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. If these people weren't strong enough--or smart enough--to survive on her island, then they'd best get the heck off it. Only the strong are worthy of survival.
If life had taught her anything, it was that. The first twenty years of her life, she'd been nobody. It was only after she'd at last secured true power that she'd begun to make a name for herself. At last begun to carve a reputation. She certainly hadn't withstood the trials of life and time by being weak and soft.
This was a hard world to live in. In order to survive, you had to be equally as harsh. Can't give an inch without some vicious competitor looking to rip you down. Her attack just a moment ago from the marshal eagle had only fortified that belief; set it in stone.
Competition. The whole world was nothing but competition--a giant game of survival with the most ruthless players. There was no giving in; no fair play or bending the rules to benefit another, everyone played cutthroat.
Those backward natives below were definitely not cut out for survival in Veronica's new kingdom. If I was to combine all their IQs together, then multiply that number by a thousand, I might have enough intelligence to tie my shoes. Veronica snickered to herself. More by curiosity than any other drive, she wheeled around in the air and flew directly over the primitive community.
Surprise surprise, the savages had finally come to realize that their old-time sling-shots, knives, and bows and arrows weren't going to save them from a painful death. Now they were lifting their spears and weapons to the sky in a rhythmic chant, calling out loudly in some unknown language even Veronica's sorcery could not decipher.
Probably asking their god/gods/superheroes for their help and blessings, because they knew they stood the same chance as a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest of surviving on their own. Figured. Perhaps these simpletons weren't all that dumb after all.
From her vantage point a hundred or so feet overhead, Veronica could all-too clearly make out their animal-hide loin-clothes and ridiculously painted faces that made them look more like circus freaks than a highly respected indigenous people. Now they shook their weapons, the inane chanting rising to an ear-murdering crescendo which carried past even the highest branches of the tallest trees.
(( Ugh. Make it stop! )) Veronica pleaded silently, winging back towards the trees. (( Wait a minute. What am I talking about, I'm a sorceress, I can make it stop! ))
With that thought in mind, Veronica looped back towards the village, her aerial path forming a drunken '8'. Ignoring the nice thermal rising up from the center of the town directly over the large central fire everyone was gathered around, Veronica opted instead to buzz around in tight circles overhead, like an impatient vulture circling a dying fawn.
A few of the messy-faced primitives glanced up, but nothing more. As far as they were concerned, the Veronica-falcon flying overhead was nothing more than a regular bird looking for food. Veronica counted fifteen of them gathered around the fire, the light black smoke billowing upwards in the warm drafts and dazing all insects it came into contact with. It was around this smoke that she now circled, preparing to give these islanders a lesson they'd never forget.
" Kareeeeeeet! " The air split with the angry scream of a peregrine falcon!
Now the natives were watching closer. Oh yes, definitely closer. Once she was sure she had their full, undivided attention, Veronica clapped both wings together on their next beat down. Instantly sizzling white-hot bolts sprung from the impact and rained down onto the village, striking the ground, the fire, and one of the little huts simultaneously; setting all three ablaze. An explosive 'boom' of thunder rocked the land and air, a special little sound effect to go along with the fancy fireworks.
The villagers had had enough. Now they were really frightened. As Veronica looked on smugly, the panicked islanders made a wild dash for their huts; the women and younger children crying while the men raced about madly like chickens with their heads cut off.
Some of them dropped to their knees, kneeling and praying. Cowering before this strange new god who had seen fit to punish them. Fearing her. Worshipping her.
As is the way it should be. Veronica thought, pleased. It was no secret that she liked to show off. She was the most powerful sorceress in the world after all, and by golly she was darn proud of it. In time everyone would recognize her, in time everyone would worship her.
Oh yes, worship! Such beautiful, glorious worship! Veronica Ashford was back, and now she was going to re-shape her world and command respect, just like a god. But first I must deal with some cretin who thinks he or she is just the hottest item since jalapeƱo peppers marinated in cayenne sauce and served up generously with minced Peruvian death pepper. Bitter reality rushed in and chased away those happy thoughts of domination.
Veronica felt her mood shift instantly, the way it always tended to do whenever she thought about the new kingdom she was planning on creating only to remember she still had a loose end to tie up.
Who was this powerful force that had risen to challenge her? Could it be, perhaps, the same force that had trapped her in the teacup just over a century and a half ago? It wasn't a far-fetched idea.
Whoever had the dark juice to do that had enough to easily survive centuries of time.
Then again, Veronica wasn't entirely sure just who had imprisoned her in that infernal teacup to start with.
Oh sure, she had her suspicions.
It could have been that pair of so-called 'white witches' she'd angered centuries before. They believed Veronica to be some kind of evil demon from Hell. Perhaps even the daughter of Satan himself. Which was, of course, completely absurd, but they believed it nonetheless.
It could have been them, but the more she thought about it, the more Veronica believed that would be giving the sisterly duo way too much credit. First of all, they were white witches. Which meant that, at least magic-wise, they would never be able to get very powerful. It was highly unlikely they'd be able to work up the mojo to trap a mighty sorceress such as herself. At least, not alone. Even a whole coven would have had difficulties gathering the energies necessary for such an enforced binding spell.
So who else did that leave?
Circe. Yes, the mythical sorceress depicted in the Greek poet Homer's famous Odyssey was not as mythical as people thought. Old Homer was closer to the truth than anyone realized. Veronica had actually encountered her twice in the past: once when she was a fledgling amateur magic-doer still under Lord Valerian's protective wing, and once later on on Circe's very own Aeaea Island when she had at last become skilled. The other sorceress had been jealous, incensed by the fact the Veronica was at last more powerful than her. That had led to something of a...heated confrontation.
Oh yes, Veronica knew Circe. She disliked her intensely.
In fact, it was more likely Circe, and not the white witches, that Veronica had to blame for her entrapment.
Veronica really prayed this was the case, because the last suspect, Discord herself, was just too frightening a concept. And the scary thing was, even though she desperately wanted it not to be, and regardless of who had trapped her in the teacup in the first place, she was almost certain the one rising to challenge her in the here and now was Discord.
Much as Veronica would never openly admit it, that scared her. Frightened her infinitely more than the empty threats of retribution she knew were coursing through Alexia's vengeful mind. Horrified her even more than the idea of losing all her magical abilities.
Discord played dirty. She may even have been able to finish Circe off after all this time, who knew? And if she has done that....oh Veronica, what are you getting yourself into?
A big mess, that was what.
It stirred up some depressing memories of their last encounter, an incident which Veronica hoped never to repeat. A little dab of Discord went a long way. Hoping to dislodge such morbid thoughts, Veronica climbed higher up into the air until she had almost the entire island in her view and began looping around again.
It was a half-hearted attempt. Even the sheer giddiness of flight couldn't distract her from the fact that all may not go as smoothly as planned. Especially if her adversary had increased in power during her unwanted stay in Teacup-Land. Even after conjuring up some of the best defenses magic had to offer--little traps which affected the mind as well as the body in addition to the awesome beasts--the redheaded sorceress was still on edge.
Well, if it is Discord I'm just going to have to put her in her place. After all, if she was the one who trapped me she obviously didn't have the juice to take me out in a fair fight. Maybe she's afraid of me. That's why she's playing games now instead of showing herself. That must be it. People have tried to kill me before, and always I prevailed. I am Veronica Ashford, the most powerful sorceress in existence. I am untouchable. Invincible. Whatever the threat, I WILL be victorious! I will crush my enemies' bones to powder under my stylish new-age boots and I will be Queen. Foolish for me to worry, Discord doesn't even have the Hylen. And, thanks to me, she never will. I hid that sucker good. Comforted somewhat by the cold hard facts, she performed a double-inside-out loop before spilling air and plummeting into a dive, the wind racing through her feathers and boosting her adrenaline level to an all-time high.
No. Discord cannot best me, she assured herself even as the leafy canopy of trees below raced up at supersonic speed in her field of vision, she probably can't even best a remote-control. Hah! Veronica laughed heartily at her own joke and skimmed along the tops of the trees, talons brushing through the leaves and scaring several little monkeys into a wild chatter and frenzied dashes for cover.
No matter how you looked at it, facts were facts, and the fact was: Discord wasn't going to be getting anywhere without that Hylen. Period.
Her confidence renewed, the self-assured wiccan-turned-sorceress pumped her wings and headed back for her fortress. She was actually embarrassed at having been frightened so easily; whoever was behind the hocus-pocus hadn't the guts to show their face, and, well, Veronica was tired of waiting around. It was time to carry on as planned. If and when a threat arose, she would deal with it just as she had countless times in the past.
You didn't mess with an Ashford.
However, someone was clearly planning to.
Not a quarter of a mile from her very own personal Fortress Of Solitude and Veronica's sharp raptor eyes picked it up--a human-sized black streak shooting across the barren deep yellow desert sand towards the castle.
Her castle.
Surprising just how fast this creature was moving: it had to be close to one hundred miles-per-hour.
What living thing could go that fast? Nothing in her internet-knowledge held the answer, and since odds were 100 to 1 it wasn't the world's fastest pure-black cheetah setting new records she'd better take a closer look.
If this...thing...turned out to be a threat, it would have to be dealt with.
The blur of motion sped on, quickly closing the distance between it and the main gates. No problem.
It was fast, Veronica was faster.
One moment she was far behind, flapping madly to keep up, and the next instant she was directly ahead of her speedy target and already entering the famous falcon dive for a grand entrance.
" Creeeeee! " Whatever this new thing was, it was going to regret crossing paths with her!
(((---(((---(((
On the ground, Wesker heard the fierce battle-cry of a bird of prey and stopped dead in his tracks, kicking up a cloud of dust in the process. Instantly he turned his sights skyward and was quick to notice the mass of brown and slate feathers dropping from the heavens like a well-guided missile.
What is this? Startled, he removed his snappy aviators and placed them in his pocket with a cool calmness.
A bird diving at him...no, not at him, straight for the ground! Was he seeing right?
There was no time to think about it--the crazy bird had reached the end of it's dive. Five feet above the ground, it suddenly pulled up, flaring wings and tail; talons extended as if alighting on some imaginary perch--
Flash!
The sudden bright scarlet light temporarily blinded Wesker, and when he next looked at the ground ten feet in front of him there was a young redheaded teenager standing there and not a bird at all. He blinked his eyes back into focus, the black pupils narrowing to cat-like slits in the increased light.
It was incredible. Here he was, standing face-to-face with what at first glance appeared to be a bubbly air-headed sixteen-year old going through a fashion phase. She was dressed in a blazing red tank-top that put the coppery tones of her hair to shame, and just under her black leather belt were black leather pants so tight it looked like they were painted on her. On the footwear front, those almost knee-high black platform boots made a statement all their own.
In addition, the rest of her attire consisted of two thin ruby-studded black-leather straps that were presumably bracelets around each wrist, and either her and Alexia shopped at the same place or else this girl had stolen Alexia's old choker she had worn that first night Wesker had encountered her, which would have been pretty hard considering the fact that the non-jewel portion of said choker had been burnt to cinders during Alexia's fiery transformation.
However, her attire wasn't the only thing striking about this young woman.
Straight, shoulder-length coppery red hair framed a very pretty face whose main highlights were deep cherry-red lips and wild purple eyes. As if the former weren't already enough to make her the star of every lovesick teenaged-boy's dream, her creamy skin was completely healthy, flawless, and unmarred. Not a single blemish tainted her image.
It took the guesswork out of her identity. Only magic--or Hollywood--could make someone look that perfect.
Wesker inclined his head slightly, and the edge of his lip curved up in the ghost of a smirk. " I take it you are Veronica Ashford? "
Before Veronica's expression had been one of confusion and curiosity--she hadn't expected the intruder to be a man--but upon hearing her name from this stranger's lips she couldn't resist a small smile.
" Aye. You know of me then? " She was so excited her words came hard and fast, and Wesker thought he detected just the faintest traces of a French accent, " Who are you stranger? " Now her expression hardened some, and she gazed at him through suspicious narrowed eyes. In her glee at having been recognized, she'd almost forgotten that this man had no business near her castle. Mustn't let down my guard...Her tone hardened to match her expression, " Are you aware you are trespassing on dangerous grounds? "
As was to be expected with someone magical enough to earn the title 'sorceress', Wesker's red and gold cat's eyes seemed to have no effect on her at all. He had to hand it to her: Veronica was very pretty. A tad too immature for his tastes though.
Of course, he had to keep reminding himself that that was merely how Veronica chose to appear. Based on what that white witch had said the enchantress was actually centuries old.
As was everything else about her, Veronica's looks were misleading.
It was easy enough to tell she was one of the high-and-mighty Ashfords though: Veronica was facing him now with just as much confidence and dignity as her descendant Alexia had coming down those red velvet steps years ago. Apparently, insane superiority complexes were hereditary.
Wesker found himself both captivated and wary at the same time. Obviously, he'd never dealt with anyone like this before, and he knew next to squat about this cute red-haired 'teen' except that she was the founder of the entire noble Ashford line, her descendant Alexander had had an unhealthy obsession with her, and most people tended to believe she had died over a hundred and fifty years ago.
Was he missing anything?
Oh yes.
She was also a highly powerful sorceress.
Did this tip the odds in her favor?
Definitely.
A cruel, sadistic, child-murdering psychopath he may be, but one thing Albert Wesker had never been called was stupid. This wasn't some viral-enhanced super-being he was dealing with here; this territory was completely alien. Best to play it safe until he was sure exactly what position he was in. Then he would play it from there.
So far, Veronica didn't seem to want to flay him, so there was a plus.
He narrowed his eyes to match hers, summoned up his most persuasive stare. Though outwardly his posture was calm and collected, inside his muscles were tensed and stiffened, ready for immediate action at a second's notice should things take a turn towards crazy.
When he spoke, it was with cool, casual tones, " I'm Wesker, a genetically-enhanced super-being. I have heard you are a great sorceress." He hadn't been sure how Veronica would react, but he certainly hadn't been prepared for the shrill, high-pitched giggle that escaped her throat, or the way her face brightened to about 5,000 watts.
" Great?! Me! Oh really, who told you I was...." Veronica stopped, realizing that not only was she twittering excessively like an excited finch, but she was also taking a ride straight to the top on the 'ol ego roller-coaster. And that was never good for first impressions. She cupped a hand to her mouth and added with a cough, " ...ahem, I mean, yes I am. But you still have not explained what you were doing racing towards my castle, Mr. Wesker."
Wait a minute here....what was he doing coming at my castle...and he knew my name without me telling him...a spy from my enemy, perhaps? Veronica stepped forward threateningly, her eyes clouding up with a red haze until both the pupils and whites were all but eclipsed by two fiery blazes. " I am not benevolent, explain yourself or be incinerated where you stand." For that last sentence her tone had changed, became darker and more menacing.
Wesker did not yield an inch. He didn't doubt the Veronica was as powerful as she said, but it was not in his nature to just bolt off like his late teammate Brad Vickers every time the chips were down.
No, Wesker was an opportunist--if he knew anything, it was how to turn the odds to his favor.
" Whoa, easy there Miss Ashford! " He held up both open palms in the universal gesture that went with the words, " I didn't come to try your patience, I was hoping perhaps we could become allies."
The red fire vanished from Veronica's eyes as quickly as it had come. Then she laughed--a soft, delicate laugh that was very nearly a deadringer for Alexia. " Thanks for the offer, but I think I can survive without you."
Wesker had been prepared for a possible rejection, so he was ready when the sorceress suddenly struck out with her right hand and sent a fireball hurtling at him that would make Alexia sick with envy.
A flash of movement and he missed the blast. By about three centimeters. She is pretty fast. Perhaps seeking her out wasn't such a hot idea after all. Still...I may be able to sway her, all I need is the right words...a bright snake of electricity crossed his path, barely missing his right leg...and a few seconds.
" My, you are fast! " Veronica chirped with a gleeful grin, " Points for that, my descendant was not as quick on her feet."
So she's battled Alexia as well! Wesker was pleasantly surprised. The thought of Alexia getting hers by a figure she and her whole family had practically worshipped was simply delicious. Veronica had undoubtedly thrashed her. Which begged the question, was the blonde-haired T-Veronica carrier still alive?
Hard to say--Wesker considered himself good at reading people and guessing their plans-of-action, but he'd known Veronica for less than five minutes; not enough to make an educated guess on whether or not she would kill her own family.
Only one thing was certain: if Alexia was still alive, she was no longer the queen ant of the Ashford colony.
He turned his head at just the instance to see five mini-tendrils of blue lighting crackle forth from each of the extended fingers on Veronica's right hand. With the aid of his super-speed, he managed to miss all but one of the bolts.
The last hit him just below his right knee, electrifying his senses with a painful jolt that caused him to falter and stumble in his stride. Frantic, he looked down at his injured leg. He hadn't been sure what exactly a bolt would do if it hit him, but he was much relieved to discover it hadn't left a bloody, gaping hole just below his kneecap.
Come to think of it, the jolt of the impact was much akin to the same jolt you'd get from touching an electrified cow fence; not enough to do serious damage, but quick and painful nonetheless. It felt just like being kicked by a mule.
" Gotcha! " Veronica mewled, clearly enjoying this. She lowered her hand to her side.
There. Seeing a weakening in her defense, Wesker zoomed in to make the most of it--making good every ounce of his superhuman speed.
Yes! Veronica was too slow!
He would hit her in...nothing.
What the...Wesker hit the brakes and actually skidded in the sand, completely murdering a baby fern beneath his boots in the process. This is crazy!
The HCF operative was completely thrown. He'd just been ready to hit Veronica, and in less time than it took to blink, she just....wasn't there.
" Over here, Speedy Gonzalez."
Startled, Wesker turned to see his opponent standing directly behind him...over fifty feet away. Wow. That's pretty impressive. Teleportation. Ah, of course.
What Wesker didn't know was that Veronica had actually slowed down time--but only for him. Whilst to his eyes and to his perception he was racing along at top speed, to the rest of the world he was a ridiculously slow runner comically suspended in time. Veronica had in fact taken her time walking around him, expecting this bold challenger from every angle. Though she hadn't said it aloud, she had actually found him rather attractive. She had waited until she was a safe distance away before returning his speed to normal; more because she wanted to see that priceless look of surprise on his face than out of any fear of him landing a successful blow.
She was getting the desired expression now, and she had to laugh. Clueless! Wesker looked so clueless! This was fun!
Spreading her arms out wide she called, " Come and get me! "
Against his better instincts, Wesker charged. He wasn't sure why: Veronica was so obviously baiting him with a trap and here he was playing right into it. A part of him just really wanted to hurt her.
This time he extended his fist. Sorceress or no, if this hit made it...if this blow connected, Veronica was going to be in some pain.
But Veronica was ready. Magical enhances to her eyes made them swift enough to follow, and this time instead of slowing time she simply leapt up high into the air.
Wesker's aim, of course, missed by miles. He looked up to see his adversary leering down at him from twenty feet , literally standing on nothing.
" I'll give you an 'A' for effort." She teased lightly, proceeding to walk on thin air just as easily as if it were a hardwood floor. Indeed, just because she didn't happen to have any wings at the moment didn't mean Veronica couldn't fly.
Despite the famous ironclad composure he was famous for, Wesker couldn't help but to form his mouth into a tiny 'o'.
Unbelievable!
Chris and company were up against this? Hylen or no, he couldn't help but to think that that little mission had been doomed from square one. The platinum-blonde pointed a gloved finger up at the smirking sorceress and wiggled it from side to side.
" Now that's cheating! " He declared lightly, still hoping to win Veronica's affections.
The ploy worked.
" I suppose you're right." Veronica returned playfully. She galloped down from her position like she was running down a flight of stairs. A flight of stairs that didn't exist.
It was pure pretentiousness. Wesker didn't know it, but Veronica had already decided she liked him and was now showing off with the sole intent of impressing him.
And the object of her affection was impressed, there was no hiding that. However, he was also wary. The instant Veronica's feet touched solid ground he lunged forward again, arm held out in front just as before.
He hadn't really expected to hit anything. His plan of action had been simply to have Veronica dodge aside or whatever as usual and then tear off back towards the jungle and to hell with her. Thus he was quite surprised when his arm connected with flesh and Veronica flew back twenty-five feet, landing on her back solidly against the ground with a muffled " Oomphf."
Well well, how about that? Miss Look-At-Me-I-Can-Walk-On-Air isn't invincible after all. Wesker killed his momentum and froze where he stood, boots digging into the ground a little harder than necessary.
A war was raging inside his mind: instinct, curiosity, optimism, and fear all kicking in and clashing violently over what they wanted his body to do. He wasn't sure if he should run, stay put, move in, or say something.
He was just on the verge of deciding to haul butt in case Veronica was angry about taking a dive when the ditzy redhead sat up, rubbing her chest and shaking sand and twigs out of her hair. She awarded her attacker a friendly wink, which took him completely by surprise.
" Ya got me! " She grimaced just a tiny bit, climbing awkwardly to her feet before bowing and adding, " Nice job. Not many men would be able to do what you just did." She held out both hands, and for a moment Wesker was afraid she was going to throw another powerbolt just on principal, but no, she was just giving him two thumbs-ups. " Yeah. You'll work as an ally."
A wave of relief swept over Wesker, and he struggled to maintain that cool and collected expression. He arched a golden eyebrow in mild surprise. " So you were testing me then. Excellent strategy."
Veronica nodded, but the action didn't appear too serious. " Yup! I had to make sure you had what it took. You see, weak, wimpy men tend not to last too long with me. Oh, I don't kill 'em, if that's what you're thinking, it's just..." She was coming towards him now, her body language indicating no hidden intent, and Wesker allowed himself to relax a hair, " it'll be nice having a man around who can take care of himself for a change." She paused just a few feet away from him, gazing up at him through coppery red bangs, violet eyes sparkling with magic.
Now that they were face-to-face and close enough to reach out and touch, it struck Wesker fully how incredibly small Veronica was. She stood almost a full foot below him--he guessed her height to be around 5'2--and probably weighed little more than half what he did. Any idiot could see she was small-boned. Alexia hadn't been an Amazon, but Veronica was smaller than her by at least a couple inches and thirty pounds. To look at her, you wouldn't think something so fragile, pretty, and delicate-looking could possibly hold such power. If it weren't for her magic, Wesker would have easily been able to break her in half, even without the physical upgrades of the T-2 virus. She didn't look like she could win a fight with Rebecca, much less Alexia. Such a small package...
Dynamite comes in small packages. Wesker pursed his lips and was about to speak when Veronica cut him to the quick.
" What's the matter, aren't you thrilled to be on my side? " Her voice was a soft, velvety purr.
Maybe even a seductive soft, velvety purr.
Just as it was occurring to the former S.T.A.R.S. captain that maybe this redhead had a thing for him, and maybe, just maybe she was flirting with him, the unexpected happened.
Reaching up, Veronica slung both arm's around Wesker's neck and pulled his face down to her level with a strength he'd never guessed she'd have.
Their lips brushed in a tender kiss.
It was incredibly short-lived, however, as Veronica quickly pulled away and blushed until her face was almost the same color as her hair. Oh, that was aces all the way! I wonder what he thinks of it? She studied her new friend's face carefully, checking for any telltale signs.
There had been no love in the action, of course--still much too early for that--but it had felt good to just get lost in the moment and give as kiss to a strong man she found attractive. He may already be married, but that little detail was vastly unimportant. Right now, it was just a physical attraction. It may never develop into anything more than that. If it did, however, well...to put it in simplest terms, Veronica wasn't in the least worried about irate wives.
Wesker looked as though he'd just been hit on by Alexia. Wha...that certainly was unexpected! The last thing he'd been expecting Veronica Ashford to do was kiss him. She's even more mental than her descendants!
Before actually meeting her, Wesker had assumed Veronica would be much like Alexia: icy, calculating, and overly-serious in an insane, all high-and-mighty way.
Yes, Alexia had been all business.
Veronica wasn't like that at all.
Well, okay, she obviously had the whole superiority complex and insanity down pat, but she definitely wasn't icy or serious and there sure wasn't anything 'calculating' at all about her words or actions.
In fact, observing her now with that bashful, starry expression plastered on her face, Veronica reminded Wesker a lot of a lovestruck 14 year old. Not to mention the icky feeling that came with being kissed by a girl his daughter's age.
No, not my daughter's age. Her appearance is only a glamour, Veronica is in fact much older than me. But how much older was that? All he knew for sure was that Veronica was over 150. She could very well be Yoda's age. Or more...
As if reading his mind, Veronica tilted her head to one side feigning a pouty, hurt look and over-doing it on the puppy-eyes. " What, is this too young for you? I assure you, I am much older than I look." To demonstrate, she brought her right hand up over her head and pulled it down in a swift sweeping motion.
Instantly she was aged ten years, her childlike, pretty face replaced with the full mature beauty of a twenty-six year old woman. Her now longer hair spilled into flaming waves of silk down her back.
Her attire had changed also--the punk, teeny-bopper clothes replaced with a flowing dress the exact same magical shade of violet as her eyes. In addition to everything else, she had added perhaps an inch to her height. The bracelets were gone, but the Alexia-choker was still in place firmly around her neck.
" Perhaps you find this more agreeable? " Veronica purred in a deeper, more mature voice. She lifted an eyebrow in question, " Or shall I go to thirty-six? Makes no difference to me, I can appear any way I choose any time I want."
" Oh no, that's...quite alright." Wesker answered awkwardly, finding nothing wrong with the sorceress's current projection. It was still to weird to be true. He just hadn't expected Veronica to be like this. He simply couldn't have imagined she'd accept his proposal so readily.
It was now almost certain she'd only been playing with him in her earlier 'test' to see if he had what it took. Perhaps she'd even let him hit her, although that part wasn't as clear. To her credit she had seemed surprised.
For perhaps the first time since that first awkward encounter with Clarice, Wesker was tongue-tied. Nothing like this had ever happened before. What did you say to a centuries-old badass sorceress who not only accepted your allegiance, but had a crush on you as well?
You just be thankful things are going so well and take it in stride.
An awkward silence filled the moment.
Veronica sure hated those. If Wesker wasn't going to say something, then by all means she sure was.
" Come on." Her eyes shifted to the main gates, and the heavy wrought-iron doors swung open on some unspoken command with barley a scuffle against the rocky ground, " There is much to do, but first I want to show you around Castle Ashford and discuss a few simple rules. It should only take a few minutes."
" Agreed." Wesker followed his new mistress through the gates, still unable to believe his luck. Finally, he was in a position to acquire some real power!
There was something gnawing at the back of his mind...there it was. The white witch and her plans to use the Hylen to defeat Veronica. He would warn her, of course. But it could wait a few minutes until he'd had a proper tour.
In the blink of an eye, HCF and his assignment with them was forgotten.
Albert Wesker had just switched teams.
---
( For all you purists out there, I'm very sorry, because I know you're going to groan, but yes, I had to alter the Ashford twin's birthday slightly in order for all the dates to fit with their kids' age and how long Alexia stayed in hibernation.
Instead of Apr. 18, 1971, which was stated in the game, I had to shift it to Apr. 18, 1969. That was the only possible way I could make it fit, as any other way Alexia would have been much too young to have kids before going into hibernation.
I originally goofed up when I thought Alexia had been 15 when she went in hibernation, but upon further study I realized that that would have made the year 1986 and she would have woken up in 2001, which firmly disagrees with RECV's date. She actually would have been about or very, very close to 13 when she went into her tube, but if I'd stuck with that I couldn't have her have Ash and Alexis until MUCH later on. Since I try to keep as close as I can with the timeline, I had no choice but to say she was 15 when she went into tube-land and bump her age up 2 years.
If the Ashfords were born in 1969 in my universe, everything else agrees with the original RE timeline. Ash was born in 1983 and Alexis in 1984. Then Alexia hibernated for very close within months to the supposed 15 years and just while we're on that topic, the game actually does support the idea she came out of stasis a little early and came out just when she did in the game. All I did was age her and Alfred 2 years. Sorry, but I couldn't think of any other way to make it fit. )
