#Bell oc

[welldonekhushi]

"Separation" | PART I

WHAT IF: Instead of Jane, Vasili was kept under the Separation Drug?

To understand this plot even better, read Vasili's lore in the Black Ops 6!

Summary: Vasili Sokolov, formerly known as Bell, is held hostage in the Rook after going rogue, and gets tested under the Separation drug. He then reveals his reasons that made him join the Pantheon, their ultimate plan.. and somehow, a long-ongoing grudge.

Warnings: Just some potential BO6 spoilers? For those who still haven't played the game yet, and some profanity.

Note: Italic texts represent Troy and the rest communicating with Vasili. Red texts represent Vasili's alter ego trying to break the control of the drug in his system. And I'm only afraid that it didn't turn out to be how I expected it to be, but I tried my best to make it simple so I hope you understand.

[A distant voice was heard in the void.]

Marshall: Vasili.. do you hear me?

Vasili: What.. what's going on?

Marshall: It's Troy. I'm going to ask you some questions.

Vasili: What did you do to me?

Marshall: Adler calls it 'Separation'. Just relax.

Vasili: Is this some lame trick?

Marshall: Believe us. We really need you right now, Vince.

Marshall: Tell us about everything. We're all ears.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The screen fades to black before a surreal image emerges through the scene. Vasili waking in a fractured, void-like realm. The atmosphere is chaotic, with fragmented platforms suspended in the abyss, shattered buildings, and distorted surroundings drifting aimlessly in the darkness.

Marshall's voice echoes through the desolation. "This is your true self, separated out from the rest. We need your help, Vasili."

"There's a bioweapon. And someone is planning to unleash it through some kind of attack. Can you tell me about it?"

Vasili hesitates, his voice uncertain. "I can try. But, I would never do something like that.."

Marshall presses gently. "Where are you right now?"

Vasili's mind flickered. "I'm home."

Vasili’s gaze fixed onto his old home in the distance, its facade fractured, yet hauntingly familiar. Carefully, he stepped across the unstable, crumbling platforms. Reaching the warped doorstep, he hesitated before gently pushing the door open. The hinges groaned, and beyond, his childhood room unfolded, a snapshot frozen in time.

Standing at its center was a younger version of himself, wide-eyed and unscarred by the burdens of the future.

There, he saw her. Eva, his mother entering the room. She smiled as she pulled his younger self into a warm embrace, a quiet moment of love frozen in time.

Vasili’s throat tightened, his voice barely a whisper trying not to break. "Mama."

"I was so happy, but—" Vasili’s attention was drawn to a glowing mirror in the corner of the room, its light calling him to uncover the truth. He moved toward it, his hands reaching out, ready to touch the surface.. until something stopped him.

The older man watched the heartfelt moment unfold, one that brought him an unexpected sense of comfort and delight, free from the burdens and worries of the world. He seemed.. truly happy, and it made Vasili want to hold onto this one, single moment forever. The figures disappeared in thin air, signifying they were all just memories. Even if they had gone distant.

"Stop it, Mama!" Little Vasili was getting tickled by his mother, playfully.

Vasili's eyes widened in fear as he saw a hand grapple his arm, turning around to see his younger self, staring back at him with an unsettling awareness. The child's eyes, once innocent, now darkened to a tar-like black, twisted with a wicked smile. The distorted, yet mature voice that followed sent a chill down his spine.

"Welcome back, Vasili."

Suddenly, the reality before him began to fracture. Cracks splintered through the air, distorting the scene as the floor beneath his feet shattered. In an instant, Vasili held onto his younger self's arm, but instead he let him go, the ground giving way and sending him hurtling into the endless void below, shrouding him in the darkness along with a shrill silence.

"But then?" Troy's voice cut through the stillness, steady and probing. "What even drove you to do all those disastrous things?"

"Revenge."

"No.. not revenge!" Vasili’s voice trembled, a mix of defiance and uncertainty. "There is still so much that I don't understand."

He wakes up with a sharp inhale, and coughed for air, finding himself on another fractured platform, the impact jarring him. Around him, new fragments emerge, which were the pieces of his old life. A KGB dossier drifts past, along with broken picture frames and faded documents. He steadies himself and presses forward.

"I need to go to work.. maybe I’ll find answers where it all began."

The fragmented world twists again, forming the skeletal outline of the KGB headquarters. Vasili steps inside, the dim corridors feeling strangely alive. The faint whispers of his past missions echo in the shadows, and mannequin-like figures of agents stand frozen in eerie poses, their hollow gazes following his every move.

"It was my passion and dream to join the KGB. All my education and efforts are devoted to this very day.. to see myself as a Major."

"Do you see anyone familiar?"

"I need.. I need to find Belikov," Vasili muttered, his voice strained. "I have to know if he's okay.."

"Why do you even care for him?"

"He's my friend."

"Belikov and you were together?"

"Since the beginning. When I joined the KGB."

Vasili moved through mannequin-like agents, their lifeless poses adding to his growing unease. His search for Belikov felt futile, but he pressed on.

"You're getting away from the topic, Vincent!" Woods's voice rang sharply in his mind.

"You don't know anything!" Vasili shot back, his frustration boiling over. Even if he was straying from the topic, he needed to believe he wasn’t alone in this broken reality. There among the figures, he finally met his eyes with that one familiar presence, that relieved him from his fear, waving at him.

"Vasya!" Belikov's cheerful voice rang into his ears. The man sighed in relief, approached him at full speed, grabbing his shoulders.

"Dima.." Vasili scanned the man before him, searching his face, his posture — anything to confirm if it was truly Belikov or just another cruel illusion.

"I was just looking for you, and oh! Anton Charkov's waiting for you in his office," Belikov said with a casual tone.

"What? Did something happen? Or was it one of your mishaps?" Vasili asked, his suspicion lingering.

"What? Not at all!" Belikov chuckled. "But... he looked serious. Not disappointed, though. You should check on him."

"Alright. And you? Where are you headed?"

"President Gorbachev is waiting for me upstairs. I need to get there soon, but I thought I’d inform you about Charkov’s message first."

"Alright, I’ll catch you later." Belikov squeezes Vasili’s shoulder, before disappearing into the shadows. Vasili watches him go, the unease starting to creep within him. The warmth of the encounter feels too real to be a fabrication, yet too perfect to trust.

"General Charkov.. he announced my retirement request," Vasili murmured to himself, his voice heavy as he pieced together the fragments of his distorted reality.

"Charkov was then murdered by poison when you left." Woods’s voice interjected, sharp and cutting. "Then they thought you had murdered him."

Vasili, now outside the headquarters, clutched the documents Charkov had handed him after relieving him of duty. His steps slowed as a memory surfaced. "But I saw something before I left."

"What did you see?"

The reality around Vasili shifted into slow motion, each step dragging as if time itself had fractured. He passed by a figure, their presence pulling at his focus. Something about them felt familiar, almost tangible. Vasili slowed, his gaze narrowing as he tried to make out their face.

But no matter how hard he looked, the face remained blurred, as if the very memory refused to take form. It was an agonizing blank, teasing him with a truth just out of reach, and it walked away from Vasili, the man still staring at him.

PAUSE.

"Your only enemy."

"I missed it. I need to think about it again."

Reality rewound itself, pulling Vasili back to the exact moment he had passed the agent before leaving the headquarters. Time dragged, each detail sharpening as the blurred face began to take form.

It took a few agonizing seconds before recognition began to creep in. The features slowly emerged from the haze, piece by piece, like a puzzle assembling itself in his mind. The surrounding sounds warped and distorted, rising in a chaotic crescendo as the image finally came into focus, the truth staring back at him. The face was blurred out but the prime features of the man reflected to him.

Those gold shades. That scar on his left face.

"I knew him." Vasili spoke gruffly, as the vision around him erased in front of him. "My enemy."

"Whose him?" Troy asked the man, curiously. "Who was your enemy?"

Suddenly, a sharp ring of a bell echoed behind him. Vasili turned, his breath hitching as he came face-to-face with another version of himself. He knew those eyes, black as tar — and that cracked, distorted face.

"Why do you even care, Marshall? He was never cooperating with you, but me."

(a rough sketch, appearance of Vasili's alter ego formed during the Separation drug)

"Fuck!" Vasili’s head throbbed, hearing the same sharp ringing of the bell again as all of his memories surged, which started to drag him forcefully to a stretcher beneath a glaring surgical lamp. The harsh light stung his eyes, turning away from it as his vision blinded.

"Don't you remember what they did to you?" The voice of Vasili's alter ego cut through the silence. He paced himself around the stretcher. He blinked, the safehouse coming into focus. This wasn’t the Rook at all, and he was certain of that.

"I need to give them answers!" Vasili protested, but his alter ego loomed over him, its presence unyielding.

"It's only a matter of time before you break free from this drug, Vasili." He moves closer to Vasili, tilting his head as he smiles. "And I'll be back in control." The entity dissolved in thin air, as the bell sharply rings in the background again. Vasili gets up from the stretcher, seeing a distorted reality ahead of him when he steps out of the safehouse.

"Think harder, Vasili. How is it that you don't remember anything again?" Woods's voice spoke to him.

"As they said, I was always a tool," Vasili muttered, bitterness edging into his words as he rants.

"Is the MK-Ultra still in effect?" Woods asked.

"It always has." Vasili croaked, escaping the room with the help of a ladder in front of him. "Couldn't even guess if it's really me, or someone else."

Reaching the end of the ladder, Vasili had finally reached outside of the safehouse, seeing all the fragmented, distorted and broken elements scattered around his reality.

"Try however you want. You'd never find any answers."

"As if I'd never try, mudak." Vasili growled at his alter ego, whose mocking gestures cut deep. He suddenly froze, the scene drastically shifting around him. The air grew thick as reality itself began to warp, distorting around Vasili like liquid. One moment, he was in a fractured, floating realm. The next, he was pulled through a dark tunnel, his surroundings flickering between his crumbling childhood home and empty voids. Time and space warped, creating a disorienting blur of broken moments. The world seemed to shift at will, leaving Vasili struggling to grasp what was real.

The world continued to twist and fracture around Vasili, as though each step was a battle to keep his footing. Amid the chaos, a massive laboratory door loomed ahead.. cold, foreboding yet painfully familiar. It felt like a door from another life, one that could offer answers or more confusion. Below him, on the ground, sat a small chest. Kneeling down, his hands shaking, he opened it carefully, revealing a letter tucked inside. The paper was old, its edges frayed, as if it had been waiting for him to discover it all this time.

"After my retirement, Perseus brought me in." Vasili murmured. "He wanted to guide my career, offering me a higher position within his faction."

He pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the hallway of the Perseus stronghold, its emptiness echoing around him, bringing him a feeling of unease.

"My life was about to change.." Vasili continued, his tone heavy with regret. "Hoping I had another reason to serve my people." He paused, bitterness creeping in as he started to hear echoey voices of the past.

A voice echoed in the background. "But I have other plans for you. Perseus thinks too highly of you."

"But who knew I was serving my loyalty.. all this time for a bunch of snakes."

"I don't want the competition."

Vasili spun around, but before he could actually act upon, it was too late. Arash Kadivar stood behind him, gun aimed with deadly precision. The shot rang out, and Vasili groaned in pain — realising that he had never hit the bullet. He was all normal in one piece, but then all his surroundings started to explode and destroy itself, as the man started to escape the facility, breaking in through doors through doors, as the voices flooded his ears.

"Comrades.. The United States and its allies slowly consume that which is dear to us."

Perseus’ voice reverberated in Vasili’s mind like a haunting refrain, the words spilling from his own lips as they mingled with the deafening roar of explosions tearing through the facility. Each step forward felt like a battle for survival as he searched desperately for an escape route amidst the chaos.

“Marshall, we’re losing him!” Woods’ voice cut through the cacophony, strained and urgent.

“Once we control the Greenlight arsenal, we will detonate them all from the safety of Solovetsky.” Perseus’ vow lingered, a specter of the mission that had led them all here.

"Stay.. out from my head!" Bursting through the final set of doors, Vasili was met with a startling vision. Perseus, in it's distorted form stood ahead, standing in front of him from a distance. Without hesitation, Vasili charged forward, forcing his way through the oppressive, crumbling reality around him.

He stumbled out into the open, his chest heaving as he collapsed to his knees. Gasping for air, he coughed, each breath ragged and desperate after the chaos he had just endured. Then, a change. He paused, realizing the air around him had shifted—it was fresh, clean, and pure, unlike anything he had felt in what seemed like an eternity.

Vasili lifted his face slightly. The sunlight struck his face, a harsh yet liberating contrast to the suffocating smoke inside.

"Vasili, are you alright?" Marshall asked, concerningly.

Vasili had gone still for a while, admiring the fresh Arctic breeze filled his lungs, and for a brief moment, he felt a sense of freedom he had always longed for. But as he took it all in, his eyes caught a faintly glowing mirror at the end of the cliff. The same mirror he saw back in his room. He could feel it.. the mirror was about to reveal the truth.

"I can finally know the truth. It's in front of me."

Marshall and Woods were eager to know about what Vasili had for him in store, despite the distractions — and his own anger and past trauma, coming in between. Vasili could reach his hand over the surface, until..

“Heroes have to make sacrifices. That’s why I’m asking you for one more, Bell.”

The voice froze him in place, sharp and unrelenting. Vasili turned, his breath hitching as realization dawned. Standing before him, was a figure — with the same shades, and scar on his face. The figure illuminated by the sunlight, revealing it to be Russell Adler. His heart raced, each beat pounding louder than the explosions behind him. Panic gripped him, and his hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

“Adler..” He whispered, the name holding disbelief and dread. “Don’t do this.”

“Adler? Was this all about him? Vasili—Vasili, calm down!” Marshall’s voice broke through, but Vasili barely heard him. He shook violently, his mind dragged back to the moment that had shattered his world.

“Woods, we need to stabilize him!”

“Please..” Vasili begged, his voice cracking with desperation. “I beg of you—don’t.”

Adler’s expression hardened. “I’m sorry, Bell. But it was never personal.”

The gunshot rang out, splitting the air with an unbearable finality. Vasili flinched, ducking instinctively as the sound left his ears ringing painfully. For a brief, harrowing moment, he braced for the impact—but none came.

Vasili opened his eyes slowly, his breath still unsteady, and what he saw made him freeze in disbelief.

There, before him, stood Bell. Who saved him from getting shot under the agent's hands. Bell had Adler lifted by the neck, his feet dangling helplessly in the air as he gasped for breath. "Bell?!" Vasili shouted.

“I thought you wouldn’t do the expected.” Bell said, his voice cold and unrecognizable, laced with fury. “So I interfered.” His glare bored into Adler, seething with the weight of betrayal and anguish. “You’ll finally know what it feels like to be in our place, you monster.”

Bell turned his gaze to Vasili, his expression unreadable, a mix of determination and something far more unsettling. “We’ve got a job to do.” He declared, his voice ringing with finality.

Suddenly, a sharp, piercing bell tone echoed through the air, as Bell and Adler flickered unnaturally, glitching away from existence before vanishing altogether. The cold Arctic air filled the void they left behind, leaving Vasili standing alone, stunned and silent.

"Adler.." Vasili murmured, his voice barely audible, the weight of realization sinking in. "He's gone. Bell took him away."

"What are you going to do?" Marshall asked him.

Due to the transmission, a fractured dimension began to take shape, where Bell had escaped with Adler.

Behind him, the mirror’s glow intensified, beckoning Vasili to step through the portal, promising to reveal the full truth about the Pantheon. Yet, something held him back. A sense of unease settled within him, and he hesitated. The pull was undeniable, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of conflict, the growing reluctance to face what lay beyond.

To be continued?

[septic-salad]

[d0gmeats]

I’ve actually been drawing bell(OC:Oleksandra/Sasha Yankovich) x stitch a lot, now this is a good time to post these>:))

//bell’s outfit in the first art i got inspired from portnova’s EOD skin

[imjustsocute]

Peaceful time

[alexxmason]

And if you go, I wanna go with you And if you die, I wanna die with you

Commissioned talented @felrija for this piece for my hysterical ship. Words and crying can’t express how wonderful this turned out, I’m still so blown away!! My beloveds both looks so good and so angsty!! Alek another beautiful work, thank you!

Alt version:

[umiwesker]

"𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦."

[walder-138]

PICREW GAME (Tagged by @cloudofbutterflies92 )

Thank you for the tag!!!! This picrew’s so pretty oml

Guinevere (1950s version) and Abbey Foster, both giving somebody the side eye

Ester ‘Bullet’ Wilde as a teenager during her punk phase and off-duty in her hometown (the government still couldn’t deyassify my girl)

Young Annika Voronova and Jenny Rhodes (Clancy)

Tagging: @imagoddamnonionmason @justasmolbard @eccentrcks @raresvtm @alypink @iamcautiouslyoptimistic and anyone else who wants to join!

[koala-estrellado]

Annabel Lee

"Annabel Lee" es un poema escrito por Edgar Allan Poe, publicado póstumamente en 1849. Es un poema de amor y pérdida que narra la historia de un joven que pierde a su amada Annabel Lee. La belleza del poema radica en su estilo romántico y melancólico, así como en la forma en que Poe retrata el amor eterno más allá de la muerte. El poema ha sido ampliamente elogiado por su musicalidad y su capacidad para evocar emociones profundas. Si te interesa la poesía, te recomendaría leer "Annabel Lee" para experimentar por ti mismo la magia de las palabras de Edgar Allan Poe...

Y dime personita de internet, ya conocias este poema

[ghostgirlvii-art]

Autum OC 2024 Request

For @welldonekhushi !!

Vasili and Helen taking a strolling in the park. Probably my most I tried background of the month (it just started lol)

Enjoy!! ❤️

[welldonekhushi]

"We're counting on you, Bell." 🔔

After days of work, back and neck pain, and effort, I finally finished this art! ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

I had this idea of drawing my Bell, along with Russell Adler and Helen Park (for the first time, surprisingly) a while ago, so I was determined to finish this piece in no time, and here we are!

Let me know what you think about it, hehe! My neck needs a break, ouch—

Beneath the cut is the process of this drawing, from sketch to final! ↓

[septic-salad]

New Bell ref 😍 because the old one immediately became very outdated

[d0gmeats]

:P

[imjustsocute]

(I’m ran out of ideas to named it🥲)

.

.

.

Original :

(I found it from Pin.)

[alexxmason]

“My hero, huh?” “That’s me.”

Had the opportunity to commission @diientedegato for this amazing and wholesome piece for my Hysteria ship 🩷🩷🩷

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

Got a commission from the lovely @efingart of Alex and Helina!

LOOK AT THEMMMMMM I'm so in love with this piece aaahh😭 thank you again, E🫶🏻 you drew them PERFECTLY!!!

[walder-138]

Questions for Annika, Jack, & Oswald:

What's this oc's biggest fear?

What's this oc's mental health state?

What's your favorite thing about this oc?

How does this oc feel about physical affection?

How does this oc get along with people they just met?

VICE!!!!! WHADDUP GIRL!!!! TYSM FOR THE ASK!!!!!

1) What’s this oc’s biggest fear?

Annika: People. Not in a social anxiety typa way (scared of judgement etc), but of what they are capable of. Annika has been exposed to human cruelty from a young age, growing up as a child soldier in a terrorist organization convinced her that every single person around her wanted to hurt her.

Over the years, her fear manifested into hate for humanity. It was never real hate, but ‘hate’ was the only label she could put on it without feeling like a coward. Fear is weak, Anya. Fear is weak. Hate and anger protected her; who wants to pet a rabid dog?

Jack: His scientific ‘research’ being exposed to the public. Jack is incapable of fear or anxiety; he’s a textbook sociopath, but he really doesn’t wanna stop performing his research and experiments (he worked on MK Ultra since he became a doctor) Seeing it flourish due to his involvement has been his greatest achievement, that being taken away from him would tear him apart.

Oz: Losing his daughter, Jenny. I’ve said this before and I’ll say this again; she’s the reason why he got off drugs following Vietnam and stopped being a verbally abusive misogynist to almost every single woman in his life. Oz knows that if he lost her, he’d most likely have a pretty bad relapse and fall back into his old bad habits.

2) What’s this OC’s mental health state?

Annika: Take a wild guess.

Jack: He’s balling honestly 😭 With everything that happened with Bell being a complete success, (assuming Annika isn’t Bell; she detonates the nukes) he basically saw his top project take off. Sure, the dumbasses in the safehouse didn’t listen to him about keeping Bell under that trance or whatever, but he can always start again; make another one.

Bro’s walking on sunshine!

In reality, Jack can’t feel anything. All of his emotions are fabricated. There could be a spark; of hope, or pity, or amusement, or some kinda love, but it’s never enough. He’s almost completely numb. He hates it sometimes, but Jack can’t miss what he’s never had.

Now about the state of his actual brain… uh ask Abbey about that. She fed him the curb

Oz: Shitty. He is constantly haunted by visions from his past. He can barely sleep at night without seeing his men -his sons- dead around him. The heroin, the morphine, and the LSD were the only things keeping him from having to see their mangled bodies scattered every time he blinked. Rehab helped him get over his addiction, but he hated talking to those damn prissy ass shrinks. But now that Jenny’s around, he can’t be high all the damn time, so Oz has to deal with it without any assistance from anyone but his ex.

He’s stressed, and he thinks he can’t do it anymore, but he wakes up every morning and does.

3) What’s your favorite thing about this OC?

Annika: How far her development’s come along. I based her off me when I play video games (I rage a lot 😭) and had to think about how, realistically, someone with an erratic fighting style would come to develop it. Since I die a lot, I figured Annika wouldn’t have any formal military training except by the terrorist organization she was raised in. I really wanted to make her a reflection of my video game playing style, and I’m happy to say that she does. Just with more depth now.

Jack: He’s not far along in his development process, so this will most likely change but so far, it’s how two-faced he is. When you talk to Jack, he genuinely seems like a nice guy that you’d wanna crack a couple cold ones with on a nice, hot day, while all of his ‘patients’ are horrified of him. Dudebro’s the reason Abbey doesn’t like British people 😭

Oz: I’ve got two things. How real he is. I’ll admit; a lot of my ocs are over exaggerated, but at least in my opinion, he’s the most realistic. I’ve made a post going slightly more into depth about this a while back. The other thing is that Oz is somehow my 2nd most morally stable character after all the shit he’s done 😭😭😭

4) What does this OC feel about physical affection?

Annika: She yearns for it. Annika’s never felt the loving touch of any individual that wouldn’t later be used to hurt her. Now, I’m not saying it’s a smart idea to abruptly give her a hug, unless you wanna pull back a bloody stump or you’re her girlfriend, as that scares her, tying back to her fear of people.

Jack: He doesn’t particularly care for it one way or another. Jack might tuck someone’s hair behind their ears if he’s being patronizing, or pat them on the shoulder to reassure them, he doesn’t really get anything from it. He won’t provide any physical contact if it doesn’t benefit him, unless it’s with his partner. Everyone else, even Jack’s own kids, can go to hell.

Oz: Oz is touched starved. At this point, he’d take any form of physical contact from anyone. The problem is, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it, so he recoils from it at every opportunity it’s shown. He says it’s unmanly, but if a woman even patted him on the cheek, bro’s getting a bit excited 🤭

5) How does this OC get along with people they just met?

Annika: Not well. Annika already hates the people she actually knows, introducing her to a person she doesn’t know will ensure hostility. Unless you’re going on a mission with her, she doesn’t want to know anything about you. She doesn’t want to know what you think about the weather. Her life wouldn’t be impacted if you lived or died, and she wants you to know it 😭If she can, Annika would just walk away after the initial greeting.

Jack: He’s the opposite of Annika, at least on the outside. He introduces himself, shakes your hand, and offers to take your coat. Very gentlemanly, especially to women and children. He presents himself as a genuine caring and kind man, giving gifts and offering to listen/help anyone around him. So whenever people (Abbey) accuse him of doing something, everyone tends to be like “Not Jack! He helped me sort through my divorce!” even if they barely know him, cause Jack’s just so damn polite.

Oz: Oz is extremely awkward. Most of the times when he’s meeting someone for the first time he just kinda stands there like🧍‍♂️waiting for his friend to finish talking so he can go watch the Patriots game. He isn’t rude about it though; he’ll smile and wave but he isn’t too good at small talk. Only when he starts to open up more will he start being the asshole we all know and love.