Project W Subject 013 ("Albert Wesker") (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
subject_013) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deernet2022-01-31 02:18 pm
subject_013) wrote in deernet2022-01-31 02:18 pm
Entry tags:
[(Accidental)Transmission 03] [UN: A_Wesker013] [Filtered to Sleepers over 18 ]
[CW: Dysphoria, sexual repulsion/dysphoria, misanthropy]
[The view appears to belong to Cypher as the Omen perches on a nearby ledge, as his Sleeper stands of the roof of Arklay House, leaning on a push broom, clearly in the middle of clearing snow off the roof, with his back to the Omen as he speaks to a pale figure in armor standing before the house.]
,,,she haunts me here. Seeing the face of the son we created has awakened the memories of her. Now the part of me that remains human.... aches for her. [He says this as if he can barely admit to this.]
I haven't exactly been a monk since her, however.... it was always with a professional whose appearance reminded me of hers. It quelled the longing, but it did nothing to fill the void.
[A harsh sigh, almost a growl.]
I am infected by her. If I could sacrifice half the years I have ahead of me as an immortal.... [He stops himself from completing this thought.] Can one possess both invulnerability of person and the vulnerability of intimacy?
I suppose mimicking some semblance of normalcy, coupled with the memories which keep returning, has turned my thoughts toward wanting a companion, a spouse, even, some semblance of a nuclear family, just as the desire for one led me to the chain of events which lead me, in time ...to her.
If not her, then one like her. One who does not fear me or who does not let the fear of me paralyze her. One who possesses a quietly fierce soul. One who can unlock the door to my heart, just by a touch, but who does not always require the heat of passion. There are too many people who seem to think a man isn't a man unless he's always on the verge of arousal. Progenitor wasn't an aphrodisiac, and simply because it's inactive, doesn't mean I've suddenly morphed into the sex god some people think I must be with looks such as mine. And while it isn't a 'deal-breaker', as the kids put it, it would delight me if she was small with red hair.
[He emits a sound like a dry sob as he turns away.]
Sometimes I suspect you Pthumerians are more personable than some persons. I'd use the term 'human', but that ignores the experiences of those persons for whom the label does not fit. Which makes me wonder where I stand. Humans must be as bacteria to you, while someone like me, a near god among humans, must be as an insect.
The more I've sought to quench that pain, the harder it cuts. Had I someone as gentle but firm to pull the blade from my heart.... [A pause, quiet breathing, less pained than before, as if he's managed to clear his head.]
[A pause and some slow easy breaths.]
It helps. Having someone listening, who will not judge what I have said, who won't tell me merely to couple with the first person who'll have me. The hole in my heart, or where my heart was, needs filling before I fill anything else.
[He falls silent, at which point, Doorway ...just isn't there. Once he is alone, he slowly turns toward the Omen]
...Did you transmit that, you little weasel?
[The view backs up a bit, then Cypher's voice speaks. 'Oy! Boss, I am a weasel. Statin' them obvious, aren't ye?']
[The view appears to belong to Cypher as the Omen perches on a nearby ledge, as his Sleeper stands of the roof of Arklay House, leaning on a push broom, clearly in the middle of clearing snow off the roof, with his back to the Omen as he speaks to a pale figure in armor standing before the house.]
,,,she haunts me here. Seeing the face of the son we created has awakened the memories of her. Now the part of me that remains human.... aches for her. [He says this as if he can barely admit to this.]
I haven't exactly been a monk since her, however.... it was always with a professional whose appearance reminded me of hers. It quelled the longing, but it did nothing to fill the void.
[A harsh sigh, almost a growl.]
I am infected by her. If I could sacrifice half the years I have ahead of me as an immortal.... [He stops himself from completing this thought.] Can one possess both invulnerability of person and the vulnerability of intimacy?
I suppose mimicking some semblance of normalcy, coupled with the memories which keep returning, has turned my thoughts toward wanting a companion, a spouse, even, some semblance of a nuclear family, just as the desire for one led me to the chain of events which lead me, in time ...to her.
If not her, then one like her. One who does not fear me or who does not let the fear of me paralyze her. One who possesses a quietly fierce soul. One who can unlock the door to my heart, just by a touch, but who does not always require the heat of passion. There are too many people who seem to think a man isn't a man unless he's always on the verge of arousal. Progenitor wasn't an aphrodisiac, and simply because it's inactive, doesn't mean I've suddenly morphed into the sex god some people think I must be with looks such as mine. And while it isn't a 'deal-breaker', as the kids put it, it would delight me if she was small with red hair.
[He emits a sound like a dry sob as he turns away.]
Sometimes I suspect you Pthumerians are more personable than some persons. I'd use the term 'human', but that ignores the experiences of those persons for whom the label does not fit. Which makes me wonder where I stand. Humans must be as bacteria to you, while someone like me, a near god among humans, must be as an insect.
The more I've sought to quench that pain, the harder it cuts. Had I someone as gentle but firm to pull the blade from my heart.... [A pause, quiet breathing, less pained than before, as if he's managed to clear his head.]
[A pause and some slow easy breaths.]
It helps. Having someone listening, who will not judge what I have said, who won't tell me merely to couple with the first person who'll have me. The hole in my heart, or where my heart was, needs filling before I fill anything else.
[He falls silent, at which point, Doorway ...just isn't there. Once he is alone, he slowly turns toward the Omen]
...Did you transmit that, you little weasel?
[The view backs up a bit, then Cypher's voice speaks. 'Oy! Boss, I am a weasel. Statin' them obvious, aren't ye?']
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At least you found out. I take it you embraced it heartily?
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Did you, too, find a way to claim something of your story and continue it?
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I hope that you find the clean pages you need to continue your story.
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