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blue_bells» Title: Nevermore, Never Say
» Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
_bluebells | k(at)noiresensus(dot)com | http://www.noiresensus.com
» Fandom: Resident Evil: Apocalypse, Resident Evil: Extinction (Movie!verse)
» Status: Complete
» Warnings: Spoilers for both movies, have not read novelisations
» Pairing(s): Alice/Carlos Olivera/Jill Valentine
» Summary: In her memory, Jill’s hair is always straighter and Carlos’ smile is brighter, but as the crow flaps its dirty wings Alice remembers the way Jill’s hair would knot and stick to her brow as they ran, clearing a path of gunfire through the undead.
Alice heard the crow before she saw it.
Cawing, it passed over her once in the night above her camp. Minutes later it had circled back and settled to a comfortable distance on the other side of the campfire.
Her fingers still splaying open the stolen notebook of Alaska, Alice rolled a thin pebble between her thumb and middle finger of her free hand.
She glanced up at her visitor. The crow hopped curiously forward, then back from the light, its slick feathers glimmering in the dark. The pebble stilled in Alice’s hand. She watched the light fracture and roll off the crow’s black plumes, remembering a similar sight before another campfire like this.
She vividly recalls the way Jill would throw her head back with a derisive laugh, dark hair catching streaks of the firelight as Carlos threw Alice a sidelong glance in a joke meant only for them. In her memory, Jill’s hair is always straighter and Carlos’ smile is brighter, but as the crow flaps its dirty wings Alice remembers the way Jill’s hair would knot and stick to her brow as they ran, clearing a path of gunfire through the undead.
With Jill before her and Carlos always at her back, the world would blur as Alice lashed through the unfortunate few that stumbled too close from their ranks of undead.
“I’m running out! Carlos, you got a spare?” Jill would shout back as they carved their path, firearm rarely idle.
“Here!” Alice remembers the tear of velcro, the spare clip soaring over her head and Jill would spin, catch it in one. “Pockets, Valentine!” Carlos would shout over the din of moans, growling and gunfire.
Alice remembers the outline of the dented steel door at the end of the bunker. “Jill, the left door!”
Jill barrelled on. “You get the food, I’ll get the drink!”
Here Alice would cover their escape, slashing, crushing and firing as necessary while Jill and Carlos scrambled to fill their packs with all the supplies they could find.
“Damnit!”
Alice breaks the neck under her arm, tossing the body to the side. “Carlos?”
“It’s goddamn empty!” Jill shouts back, her voice nearly a scream. “Only these four –“ She throws some cans in Carlos’ pack and hisses, cocking her firearm as she storms back to Alice.
Carlos is beside them within a moment. “The intel was wrong, someone already hit this bunker, but they were sloppy.” He ignores Jill’s hot glare, firing past her face to a lunging attacker.
Alice spares a quick look between her companions, reading the tense lines of disappointment in Carlos’ face and Jill’s angry frustration. “We take everything we find.” They both look at her, expressions melting into something inscrutable, but it doesn’t last as they’re beset by another wave of animated dead and after a further beat she says, “let’s go.”
Spirits are not so high among their travelling camp when they return with their meagre bounty. Jill hunches before one of the small fires, breaking twigs and throwing them to the flames. Carlos joins her after checking Angie is safe and asleep. He settles himself down, motions slow with muscle ache more than caution. Alice is not far behind him. She seats herself between them, catching Jill’s darted look when Jill realises Alice and Carlos both watch her.
Jill finally crumbles under their combined stare. “The stores are running low... aren’t they?”
Alice leans her palms on her knees. “They’ll never be high.” She tries to deliver it gently and cast Jill’s despairing concession in a positive light. It’s normal for people on the run to be running low on supplies.
Jill sighs heavily. “And they’re catching up with us every day.”
“We ration, our supplies are well managed,” Carlos interrupts, laying his gun by his feet. Alice notices the metal seems to absorb the light of the fire and she’s studying it so intently, a strange shade is setting and clicking behind her eyes such that, at first, she doesn’t notice the proffered can under her nose.
Alice starts when Carlos shakes the can, its contents sloshing noisily and the shade retreats abruptly.
Neither of her companions have noticed her distraction and Jill is saying, “What do I need pockets for when I have you, superstar?” Jill throws him a pointed look as she shakes a second unlabelled can by her ear.
Carlos ignores the professional irony. Neither of them were S.T.A.R.s anymore. “I eventually run out of ammo, too, Jill.” Carlos carves open the can with his switchblade and offers Alice first helpings with a large, clean spoon.
“Well, if we ration our ammo as well as our food, we should never run out between the three of us,” Jill motions between them with her own spoon and a mouthful of baked beans. She offers Carlos her can as Alice’s spoon slides from her lips.
Alice swallows cold corn with a smile. “We’re only human.”
“Alice?” Carlos prompts, not quite catching her words.
Alice passes her can of corn to Jill, still smiling. “The corn is good.”
Carlos’ mouth splits in a wry grin as he knocks back a spoonful of beans. “Tonight we feast.”
Jill snickers, gazing into the can of corn as though it holds the solution to their mounting problems.
Alice leans close to her shoulder. “With the right technique, you can actually read your fortune at the bottom of a can of corn.”
Jill cracks up, shoulders shaking with laughter and she shoves the can back at Alice.
She always laughed the hardest when Alice revealed her glimpses of humour while Carlos could deal it in spades.
Jill retrieves the mixed beans from Carlos, but not before Alice has snatched her own spoonful (many meals of practice have taught her to pour from a can to spoon without mess) and they continue like that, sharing their meal and banter, not thinking about the potential horror lingering behind every shadow, fallen debris or worse yet – familiar face.
Alice remembers the way the firelight moved over their features. In the beginning, Jill and Carlos seemed to glow and the three of them together were a brilliant force, but in the bare hours of the pre-morning cold the fire could distort many things. When the nightmares persisted, Alice learned the fastest way to return to sleep was to simply tuck closer between her companions.
And then Jill fled to lead away the FBI on their scent and Alice went her own way when everything else went to hell. Carlos could only chase one of them and when he followed Alice to Detroit she knew he would follow her further given half the chance. With much difficulty, she kept walking. Her feet knew what to do even if the rest of her was still clutching to Carlos, stealing some of that strength for herself.
She still had business to attend to.
Oh, Angie....
Alice startled from her memories as the crow’s shriek split the night. The hair on her arms prickled as it cawed again, the pebble pressed hard between her fingers. The crow canted its head away and confirmed her suspicions when she saw the pale, rotted glaze of its eyes. With a quick flex, the pebble released and the crow fell motionless.
On closer inspection its feathers looked dry and withered, nothing like Jill’s hair as she had thought.
Alice threw its corpse from the campsite with all her strength and collapsed back against her makeshift bed with a sigh. She thumbed through the brown-red notebook again and traced the written words with her forefinger.
Alaska.
She closed the book, gazing heavenward.
That one word was synonymous with hope and however bleak, it was enough for her.
She breathed deeply and closed her eyes. Not sensing an infected presence in her vicinity, Alice settled back and hoped for dreams of old friends around a campfire.
» Author:
_bluebells | k(at)noiresensus(dot)com | http://www.noiresensus.com» Fandom: Resident Evil: Apocalypse, Resident Evil: Extinction (Movie!verse)
» Status: Complete
» Warnings: Spoilers for both movies, have not read novelisations
» Pairing(s): Alice/Carlos Olivera/Jill Valentine
» Summary: In her memory, Jill’s hair is always straighter and Carlos’ smile is brighter, but as the crow flaps its dirty wings Alice remembers the way Jill’s hair would knot and stick to her brow as they ran, clearing a path of gunfire through the undead.
Alice heard the crow before she saw it.
Cawing, it passed over her once in the night above her camp. Minutes later it had circled back and settled to a comfortable distance on the other side of the campfire.
Her fingers still splaying open the stolen notebook of Alaska, Alice rolled a thin pebble between her thumb and middle finger of her free hand.
She glanced up at her visitor. The crow hopped curiously forward, then back from the light, its slick feathers glimmering in the dark. The pebble stilled in Alice’s hand. She watched the light fracture and roll off the crow’s black plumes, remembering a similar sight before another campfire like this.
She vividly recalls the way Jill would throw her head back with a derisive laugh, dark hair catching streaks of the firelight as Carlos threw Alice a sidelong glance in a joke meant only for them. In her memory, Jill’s hair is always straighter and Carlos’ smile is brighter, but as the crow flaps its dirty wings Alice remembers the way Jill’s hair would knot and stick to her brow as they ran, clearing a path of gunfire through the undead.
With Jill before her and Carlos always at her back, the world would blur as Alice lashed through the unfortunate few that stumbled too close from their ranks of undead.
“I’m running out! Carlos, you got a spare?” Jill would shout back as they carved their path, firearm rarely idle.
“Here!” Alice remembers the tear of velcro, the spare clip soaring over her head and Jill would spin, catch it in one. “Pockets, Valentine!” Carlos would shout over the din of moans, growling and gunfire.
Alice remembers the outline of the dented steel door at the end of the bunker. “Jill, the left door!”
Jill barrelled on. “You get the food, I’ll get the drink!”
Here Alice would cover their escape, slashing, crushing and firing as necessary while Jill and Carlos scrambled to fill their packs with all the supplies they could find.
“Damnit!”
Alice breaks the neck under her arm, tossing the body to the side. “Carlos?”
“It’s goddamn empty!” Jill shouts back, her voice nearly a scream. “Only these four –“ She throws some cans in Carlos’ pack and hisses, cocking her firearm as she storms back to Alice.
Carlos is beside them within a moment. “The intel was wrong, someone already hit this bunker, but they were sloppy.” He ignores Jill’s hot glare, firing past her face to a lunging attacker.
Alice spares a quick look between her companions, reading the tense lines of disappointment in Carlos’ face and Jill’s angry frustration. “We take everything we find.” They both look at her, expressions melting into something inscrutable, but it doesn’t last as they’re beset by another wave of animated dead and after a further beat she says, “let’s go.”
Spirits are not so high among their travelling camp when they return with their meagre bounty. Jill hunches before one of the small fires, breaking twigs and throwing them to the flames. Carlos joins her after checking Angie is safe and asleep. He settles himself down, motions slow with muscle ache more than caution. Alice is not far behind him. She seats herself between them, catching Jill’s darted look when Jill realises Alice and Carlos both watch her.
Jill finally crumbles under their combined stare. “The stores are running low... aren’t they?”
Alice leans her palms on her knees. “They’ll never be high.” She tries to deliver it gently and cast Jill’s despairing concession in a positive light. It’s normal for people on the run to be running low on supplies.
Jill sighs heavily. “And they’re catching up with us every day.”
“We ration, our supplies are well managed,” Carlos interrupts, laying his gun by his feet. Alice notices the metal seems to absorb the light of the fire and she’s studying it so intently, a strange shade is setting and clicking behind her eyes such that, at first, she doesn’t notice the proffered can under her nose.
Alice starts when Carlos shakes the can, its contents sloshing noisily and the shade retreats abruptly.
Neither of her companions have noticed her distraction and Jill is saying, “What do I need pockets for when I have you, superstar?” Jill throws him a pointed look as she shakes a second unlabelled can by her ear.
Carlos ignores the professional irony. Neither of them were S.T.A.R.s anymore. “I eventually run out of ammo, too, Jill.” Carlos carves open the can with his switchblade and offers Alice first helpings with a large, clean spoon.
“Well, if we ration our ammo as well as our food, we should never run out between the three of us,” Jill motions between them with her own spoon and a mouthful of baked beans. She offers Carlos her can as Alice’s spoon slides from her lips.
Alice swallows cold corn with a smile. “We’re only human.”
“Alice?” Carlos prompts, not quite catching her words.
Alice passes her can of corn to Jill, still smiling. “The corn is good.”
Carlos’ mouth splits in a wry grin as he knocks back a spoonful of beans. “Tonight we feast.”
Jill snickers, gazing into the can of corn as though it holds the solution to their mounting problems.
Alice leans close to her shoulder. “With the right technique, you can actually read your fortune at the bottom of a can of corn.”
Jill cracks up, shoulders shaking with laughter and she shoves the can back at Alice.
She always laughed the hardest when Alice revealed her glimpses of humour while Carlos could deal it in spades.
Jill retrieves the mixed beans from Carlos, but not before Alice has snatched her own spoonful (many meals of practice have taught her to pour from a can to spoon without mess) and they continue like that, sharing their meal and banter, not thinking about the potential horror lingering behind every shadow, fallen debris or worse yet – familiar face.
Alice remembers the way the firelight moved over their features. In the beginning, Jill and Carlos seemed to glow and the three of them together were a brilliant force, but in the bare hours of the pre-morning cold the fire could distort many things. When the nightmares persisted, Alice learned the fastest way to return to sleep was to simply tuck closer between her companions.
And then Jill fled to lead away the FBI on their scent and Alice went her own way when everything else went to hell. Carlos could only chase one of them and when he followed Alice to Detroit she knew he would follow her further given half the chance. With much difficulty, she kept walking. Her feet knew what to do even if the rest of her was still clutching to Carlos, stealing some of that strength for herself.
She still had business to attend to.
Oh, Angie....
Alice startled from her memories as the crow’s shriek split the night. The hair on her arms prickled as it cawed again, the pebble pressed hard between her fingers. The crow canted its head away and confirmed her suspicions when she saw the pale, rotted glaze of its eyes. With a quick flex, the pebble released and the crow fell motionless.
On closer inspection its feathers looked dry and withered, nothing like Jill’s hair as she had thought.
Alice threw its corpse from the campsite with all her strength and collapsed back against her makeshift bed with a sigh. She thumbed through the brown-red notebook again and traced the written words with her forefinger.
Alaska.
She closed the book, gazing heavenward.
That one word was synonymous with hope and however bleak, it was enough for her.
She breathed deeply and closed her eyes. Not sensing an infected presence in her vicinity, Alice settled back and hoped for dreams of old friends around a campfire.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-10-22 07:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-23 12:24 am (UTC)I wanted to write a piece about these three because I didn't know where to start looking for stories about them and I was disappointed Jill had disappeared off-screen between the second and third film. If you've read stories about them elsewhere, would you be able to rec me some?
no subject
Date: 2007-10-23 12:44 am (UTC)I frequent FanFiction.Net and so far I've only found one quality fic for movieverse on that website, and it was Carlos/Alice-centric ("Bittersweet", linked at
no subject
Date: 2007-10-23 09:32 am (UTC)We all know it academically (it's why she is supah!), but I completely forgot she shouldnt be schmoozing with anyone OR sharing spoons over dinner. This has since been fixed above!
Good luck with that writing!
[1] It's a good mark of the film that they had higher things to worry about -- live first, love later.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-23 12:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-24 07:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 08:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-16 11:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-09 09:56 pm (UTC)