[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=khaki]Victor Bonheur[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://i.imgur.com/2jArSRj.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Camp Mexico Beach: (Inside Quarantine: W) Conference Room
[b]Skills:[/b] N/A[/center][hr]	Emptiness was all that Victor felt right now. He could figure out what was to come next and it wasn't likely to be favourable for him. He had lied before he knew that those he cared for were here, but he had kept up the lie when given the chance to give more forgiving information during his interview. He had not thought to ask the others to help him in his attempts to start fresh, but would he have? If he did think of it? He shook his head to himself, knowing the answer to the question. No. He'd have never asked anyone to compromise themselves for him. His eyes drifted away from Thana's face and down to his hands. He examined them and felt along the cuticles of his thumbs and his nail bed with his forefinger. His eyes were entranced by the motion and he began to mutter very quietly to himself in his native tongue as his mind slipped completely out of focus. [color=khaki]"Je ne sais pas quoi faire. Devrais-je partir? Est-ce que cela sauverait tout le monde des conséquences? Aucun d'entre eux n'aurait menti, et s'ils avaient été confrontés, ils n'auraient jamais suivi. Pourquoi le feraient-ils? Je sais que je n'aurais pas dû mentir mais je devais me protéger ... ils comprendront sûrement?"[/color]

	His hands began to rub against one another, slowly and carefully, his fingertips feeling every bump, scratch, scrape and nick on his skin. He began to pick at anything that felt loose; stray cuticles, over grown nail beds and dried scabs that were almost done healing, didn't matter what it was his fingers found them. He stared at his work as he picked, and picked, and picked. He was sitting forward in his chair once more, elbows on his knees, head down and eyes fixated on his own actions but he was unaware of his movement forward, it was perhaps a little more abrupt than he'd normally have been but likely not too noticeable to those not looking in his direction. His eyes were glazed over as he continued to mutter to himself some more, as quiet as before. [color=khaki]"Ce qui va se passer maintenant? Vont-ils me jeter dehors? Cela affectera-t-il les chances de tous les autres? Taré avec le même pinceau, comme on dit? Pourquoi devaient-ils être ici? Je voulais les trouver, oui, mais je n'ai jamais osé espérer ... Je ne suis pas l'homme que j'étais. Je suis cassé. Je ne vaux rien, pourquoi suis-je toujours là? Tant de plus dignes ne sont pas et pourtant je ... je ne peux rien donner à cet endroit. Pour ces personnes. Je devrais ... devrais ... mais ... Peut-être que je te rejoindrais plus tôt que prévu, mon ange."[/color] His fingers found his beard, running through the strands and catching in the small clumps that formed day to day.

	His left hand began to find some hairs, pulling a few loose as his right hand drifted to his ear once more, rubbing and scratching as his muttering continued but became even more subdued and internal, the odd word only slipping out slightly louder here or there still in his native tongue, such as [i]menteur[/i], [i]protéger[/i] and [i]pardonner[/i]. Filling the emptiness within him was now resignation. He would be prepared when the time came. He knew what he had to do.[hr]
[hider=Translations]1. I do not know what to do. Should I leave? Would that save everyone from the consequences? None of them would have lied, and if they had been confronted, they would never have followed. Why would they do it? I know I should not have been lying but I had to protect myself ... they will surely understand?

2. What will happen now? Will they toss me out? Will this affect everyone else's chances? Tarred with the same brush, as they say? Why did they have to be here? I wanted to find them, yes, but I never dared to hope... I'm not the man I was. I'm broken. I am worthless, why am I still here? So many more worthy are not and yet I... I can give nothing to this place. To these people. I should... should... but... Maybe I'll join you sooner than we thought, my angel.

3. Liar, protecting, forgive.[/hider]