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)
deernet2022-05-26 12:42 am
subject_013) wrote in deernet2022-05-26 12:42 am
[Transmission 06][Omni Malfunction]
[CW: Resident Evil-typical violence and mild gore, canonic character death, pain referenced.]
[Red and white static fills the screen, then clears on a view of a basement laboratory space, a life support tank containing a monstrous humanoid figure, which some of the Sleepers may recognize as the creature that broke through in April. The view shifts back to a lab work top terminal, someone wearing tactical-looking black leather half gloves typing what seem like access codes.]
[A dark-haired, fresh-faced young man in drab green tactical gear, pistol in hand, hurries into view, ready for anything, but from the look of shock and dismay in his pale grey-blue eyes, he hadn't braced for what he sees.]
[A confrontation, a first-person view of a scuffle, ending in the viewer holding the young man on his back at gun point, looking down into his eyes and noting the fear and dismay in the other's eyes.]
[The fluid drains from the tank. The beast comes to life, striking the glass with the heel of its hand, cracking it in one blow, then shattering it in the next. Its other hand, larger and thicker with long, bony-looking claws whips out. The view swings up, looking down at the beast as if the beast has lifted the viewer clear of their own feet. The edges of the view turn slightly grey and blurry. Blood spatters through the range of sight. Everything tumbles, chaotic, a whirling view of the lab space that stops abruptly, as if the beast has tossed the viewer aside, as an angered child might toss aside a broken toy. The view shows the basement ceiling, ductwork and wiring and metal stringers, all growing more and more blurry, then fading into darkness.
[The view cuts to red and white static, then the image of Wesker's face, almost painfully close, fills the screen.]
Did the device record any of the procedure? [A harassed sigh and he glances slightly to one side as someone off-link complains noisily about lost data.] Cypher, did you have a hand in that?
I didn't do a fing, boss. It just... did that.
Yes. And now the whole town saw it. [He reaches in and taps at the edge of the screen.]
[The view goes to red and white static again. Then the display fills again with a confused view: first person on
[A plastered ceiling fades into view, blurry, clearing, then blurry again before it finally clears. He looks down, along himself as he lays atop the covers of a comfortable bed, then peers about the room: a wicker basket and a metal briefcase on the bureau.]
[He sits up slowly, looking down at himself. Reaching down, he untucks his cashmere jersey-style shirt and lifts it almost to his armpit, uncovering his badly bruised flank, which he stares at for a long moment, as if expecting the bruises to fade.]
[Except they don't. He lowers the shirt, then lifts his forearms, sleeves rolled to the elbows, before his face, revealing a set of antlers freshly tattooed on the skin, the skin red from the recent work.]
Is this someone's idea of a bad joke? What have you done to me? What do you hope to accomplish? [He speaks, his voice slightly deeper than some may recognize.]
What and where is this place? [He asks with an annoyed sigh.]
[Then the door opens and a cheery young-looking man with spiky brown hair and soulful brown eyes far older than the face that holds them enters.]
"Deerington. You're in Deerington."
[The view goes to red and white static again, then an angled view of Wesker looking away from the device almost thoughtfully. Or embarrassed. Or both.]
That was something no one needed to see but persons involved.
((OOC: And another casualty of the memshare player plot. If you want a random memshare to break through, feel free to ask, just specify if you want canon, personal canon, or Deerington CRAU things.))
[Red and white static fills the screen, then clears on a view of a basement laboratory space, a life support tank containing a monstrous humanoid figure, which some of the Sleepers may recognize as the creature that broke through in April. The view shifts back to a lab work top terminal, someone wearing tactical-looking black leather half gloves typing what seem like access codes.]
[A dark-haired, fresh-faced young man in drab green tactical gear, pistol in hand, hurries into view, ready for anything, but from the look of shock and dismay in his pale grey-blue eyes, he hadn't braced for what he sees.]
[A confrontation, a first-person view of a scuffle, ending in the viewer holding the young man on his back at gun point, looking down into his eyes and noting the fear and dismay in the other's eyes.]
[The fluid drains from the tank. The beast comes to life, striking the glass with the heel of its hand, cracking it in one blow, then shattering it in the next. Its other hand, larger and thicker with long, bony-looking claws whips out. The view swings up, looking down at the beast as if the beast has lifted the viewer clear of their own feet. The edges of the view turn slightly grey and blurry. Blood spatters through the range of sight. Everything tumbles, chaotic, a whirling view of the lab space that stops abruptly, as if the beast has tossed the viewer aside, as an angered child might toss aside a broken toy. The view shows the basement ceiling, ductwork and wiring and metal stringers, all growing more and more blurry, then fading into darkness.
[The view cuts to red and white static, then the image of Wesker's face, almost painfully close, fills the screen.]
Did the device record any of the procedure? [A harassed sigh and he glances slightly to one side as someone off-link complains noisily about lost data.] Cypher, did you have a hand in that?
I didn't do a fing, boss. It just... did that.
Yes. And now the whole town saw it. [He reaches in and taps at the edge of the screen.]
[The view goes to red and white static again. Then the display fills again with a confused view: first person on
[A plastered ceiling fades into view, blurry, clearing, then blurry again before it finally clears. He looks down, along himself as he lays atop the covers of a comfortable bed, then peers about the room: a wicker basket and a metal briefcase on the bureau.]
[He sits up slowly, looking down at himself. Reaching down, he untucks his cashmere jersey-style shirt and lifts it almost to his armpit, uncovering his badly bruised flank, which he stares at for a long moment, as if expecting the bruises to fade.]
[Except they don't. He lowers the shirt, then lifts his forearms, sleeves rolled to the elbows, before his face, revealing a set of antlers freshly tattooed on the skin, the skin red from the recent work.]
Is this someone's idea of a bad joke? What have you done to me? What do you hope to accomplish? [He speaks, his voice slightly deeper than some may recognize.]
What and where is this place? [He asks with an annoyed sigh.]
[Then the door opens and a cheery young-looking man with spiky brown hair and soulful brown eyes far older than the face that holds them enters.]
"Deerington. You're in Deerington."
[The view goes to red and white static again, then an angled view of Wesker looking away from the device almost thoughtfully. Or embarrassed. Or both.]
That was something no one needed to see but persons involved.
((OOC: And another casualty of the memshare player plot. If you want a random memshare to break through, feel free to ask, just specify if you want canon, personal canon, or Deerington CRAU things.))
((OOC: I apologize for the delay: Life got interesting >.<))
[A pleased, even indulgent chuckle.]
Ahh, you know my adoptive elder brother by adoption? You're in highly capable hands if you're training with him. If you want a spotter or some assistance with your pistol proficiency, I'd be honored to assist you.
zero need to apologize! you're fine!
Wait, Maul's your brother? [ there's something bright in her tone. she has a certain amount of adoration for Maul, largely in part due to the similarities in the horrors they've endured, and it pleases her to know he's formed such deep bonds. ]
You know, I'd appreciate any help I can get with the pistol. I'm not bad at it, dad made sure of that, but I could always use the advice of someone more skilled than me.
Re: zero need to apologize! you're fine!
There's a shooting range at the Gate where I practice in the afternoon, every other day. You're welcome to join me there, if you like. I'd better warn you: I'm a meticulous trainer, though I do try to be fair. I was in the Army for five years and in law enforcement after that: that colors a person's technique.
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[ the warning just makes her more certain he'll be a suitable instructor for her ] That sounds damn good to me. I'll be sure to come by then. Thanks, by the way.
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[A pleased, if closed-mouthed chuckle.] Sounds we shall be meeting soon. [More serious now.] I'll have something for you that I lent to your mother. It's fitting that you have it.
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Oh? [ there's a note of curiosity in her tone ] You don't have to do that but can't wait to see it.
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We're both going to have fun with this, aren't we?
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