Deer Country Network

makingthetime
deernet

—dealt with these things, I had a tank and someone throwing Lickers at one to distract it. And we barely made it out of that one.

[The video feed opens on what looks like the flat roof of a building, chimneys visible in the background, with Leon leaning against the wall of a penthouse, his arms crossed. He looks like someone who just barely managed to get away from a fight he did not win, with one hand discreetly holding his side so it’s not obvious that it hurts. The other hand has a flask of alcohol, currently capped. Wesker has his back to the device, busy reloading a handgun magazine while, given his posture, watching something below them.]

Too bad we haven’t any Lickers to throw at it now, at least as a diversion, though now that I’ve said it, some might come skittering through the portal.

God, don’t even mention those. [Leon’s head falls back against the wall with a sigh.] I can’t let this thing stay in Trench for too long. The zombies are bad enough, but a Tyrant, even just one—you know better than I do, how bad that’s going to be. Especially if I have to bring more people in and risk their lives, too.

[Wesker slots the magazine into the Samurai Edge before re-holstering it and proceeding to reload a second magazine.]

There are any number of Hunters and other talented folk who could overwhelm it, if they throw enough firepower of all varieties at it, at once. [He turns his head to look in Leon’s general direction.] We didn’t exactly rate Tyrants to contend with magic fire or something just as beyond our frame of reference. [He says this with a wry amusement borne of an expert intrigued by the challenge offered from a design flaw.]

You didn’t rate them to contend with anti-tank guns either, if I recall. [Deadpan, and just a little bit bitter, like he heard that amusement and doesn’t entirely like it. Leon lets out a breath.] Don’t suppose you’ve got a rocket launcher around here somewhere?

Chalk that failing up to rushed production. [Wesker notes this with a hint of annoyance.]  With the assortment of weapons needed on a daily basis to contend with Beasts, I’d be curious to know if someone has a cannon, which would be the nearest pre-Industrial equivalent. [He suddenly goes still, then slowly turns his head to peer over his shoulder at something behind him.] Cypher… you aren’t transmitting this conversation, are you?

Just tryin’ to ‘elp. Boss. [A small chastened voice speaks.]

What, your weasel? [Leon shifts his weight, then exhales, looking a little like someone caught doing something they know damn well they shouldn’t have.] Shit. Looks like he did—

[He cuts himself off with a pained hiss, but straightens up anyway. All right. Fine.]

Well, if he’s recording anyway we might as well make it a PSA.

At least to inform folk of the presence of the intruder, or to recruit reinforcements.

[A pained look crosses over Leon’s face, at the latter suggestion.] I’d rather avoid that last part. It—didn’t turn out well for me, before. [But he sighs, because Wesker, god help them all, has a point. To the weasel recording them, he gives a tired wave with the hand holding the flask.] So. I’m going to guess you all heard that, so I’ll just get to my point: there’s a very dangerous BOW—bio-organic weapon—on the loose. It’s called a Tyrant, and it’s a very tall, very bald monster in a trenchcoat. And if you happen to get anywhere close to it, it can and will kill you.

[Wesker turns fully towards the Omen, pocketing the spare magazine.]

And before any of you decide to go haring off to play the conquering hero and single-handedly defeat this biological colossus, be warned: it was designed to be an army in one unit. If you attack it, do so in numbers. Those of you with long-range magical skills are best suited to wearing it down, making it possible for those with ranged weapons - high powered firearms, flaming bows and arrows, even hurling boulders at it - to stand a chance at damaging it. Do not attempt to engage it with swords or fists or anything else that will bring you into close contact. It can and will cave in your skull with one blow. [A small but weighted pause.] I know this well because I helped to create the prototype of this entity. [There’s a hint of pride, but also a hint of ‘oh crap, I brought this thing into this’ world.]

He’s not wrong. I’ve fought Tyrants before, and each time I just barely made it out alive. And I always had help in finishing it off—chances are you won’t. If you see it coming near you and you’re alone and unprepared for it, you need to run and hide. [Unlike Wesker, Leon doesn’t sound proud, just very grave and serious.] About the only good news I have is that it’ll move on if you’re hidden well. As for taking it down for good, I’m. Still working on that.

[He knows it’ll take a team to do it, but—the last time he led a team they all died and turned in the morgue. If he has to watch more people die on his watch because of his mistakes…]

Correction: We’re still working on that. [And for once, Wesker sounds serious.]

Right. We’re. [Exhales.] Be careful out there, in the meantime. Don’t try and be a hero, you’ll only get yourself killed.

[ ooc: for this player plot! blue is Leon, red is Wesker. ]