𝐻𝐸𝐼𝑆𝐸𝑁𝐵𝐸𝑅𝐺

                        𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫.                         𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤.                         𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝.

Cigar hung limp from the corner of his mouth, studying her in silence between heavy clouds of smoke and a pair of dark shades. She was skilled, a method to her madness most would probably just write off as sheer chaos. But he could see the way her mind worked, like each carefully placed gear in a machine, all working toward a final product that was sure to be a work of death ensuring art. A feast for the eyes, and entertainment to fill the silence as he watched the gun sputter and whir with trial and error. Having seen more MRVN bots and Titans in his day, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to see her work mesh with his own. 

It was what brought him over to help, having had enough spectating as she struggled and strained with some of the heavier gear around her. Not that she was weak by any means- even he’d found himself surprised when he moved in at her side, helping lift her gun to take a look at the gear it lay mounted to. Heavy, immobile, it was a miracle she was able to run around the field with such ease. Taking the wrench, he didn’t hesitate to help tighten a few bolts before setting Sheila upright to give the weapon a look over. 

Time for some quick late night Sunday thoughts for this man.

2 /  ∞

In the JP version of the Bio Village the file Heisenberg's Treatment Book translates differently than that of in the US release of Resident Evil: Village. The Cadou inside Heisenberg specifically formed an electric organ in his chest tied to his cranial nerves, allowing him to become a human coil, form a magnetic field around himself & use magnetism.

It’s interesting to note that in the US version it doesn’t translate or specify where it’s located in his body, and there is no clear photo evidence within her lab of his body like there is Donna or Moreau. Most likely this is due to how well his body took the Cadou, but to consider that Heisenberg most likely has a scar that remains on his chest from Miranda implanting it is very possible. Most other lords had some sort of side effect, or obvious visual as to where the Cadou lingers beneath the skin, but since Heisenberg has such control over his ability, I imagine it goes unnoticed due to how deeply imbedded it lies, apart from whatever faint scar may still linger from his younger years. Also interesting if we compare him to the story of Frankenstein, he can be seen as almost self reflecting on when he creates his monsters. The symbolism of how most of them carry the Cadou in their chest, or within the core of their body in a way representing him and how he carries it inside himself.

This also then explains why when he dies, you receive his brain and how it seems to have that of a metallic stem, due to the Cadou’s attachment to his cranial nerves, but it also representing how he is always head before heart, intelligent, logic, etc. where as someone like say Moreau is led by the heart, and drops that upon death. There can be many ways for someone to interpret it, but it’s sad to see that the last part of him still held magnetic charge and essence of him to have metal still clinging to it in some way, protecting what little was left of him before he crystalized and died.

          the  glass  of  sanguis  virginis  is  gripped  tightly  in  his  hands,  leaning  back  in  his  seat  at  the  dining  table  —  everybody  has  busied  themselves  with  their  own  conversations,  will  gently  bumping  his  foot  against  heisenberg’s  underneath  of  the  table.  placing  the  glass  down,  curls  swept  along  his  forehead,  will  is  quiet  for  a  moment  —  a  smile  toying  on  the  corners  of  his  lips  when  he  hears  karl  speak …  and  he  isn’t  entirely  WRONG  either.  ❝  i  can’t  say  i  entirely  disagree  with  that  sentiment.  ❞

          will  is  content  to  stay  quiet  and  enjoy  his  wine,  and  to  continue  his  little  game  of  footsie  underneath  the  large  dining  table,  instead  of  INDULGING  in  the  conversations  around  him.  content  to  speak  only  when  spoken  to.  ❝  though,  i do  think  the  one  thing  i  would  change …  is  sitting  across  from  moreau  as  he  eats.  if  you  could  even  consider  that  as  eating.  ❞  a  chuckle  then,  the  sound  soft  and  almost  unusual  coming  from  him  —  the  conversation  is  for  heisenberg  only,  will  setting  his  glass  down  on  the  tabletop  before  him  ;  when  will  speaks,  it’s  usually  only  ever  directed  at  heisenberg …  believe  it  or  not,  he’s  the  only  one  that  will  actually  wants  to  carry  conversation  with.

If there was one thing the man detested more than business meetings with his so called family, it was being forced to attend some semblance of a formal gathering with them all. Forced by Miranda’s hand, in attempts of keeping the peace between them all- a common meeting ground for all of them to get together and try to behave without breaking into fight. Easier said than done- but thankfully, with enough people in attendance it made tolerating his siblings a little easier. 

The man at his side offered distraction enough, ignoring the noise the rest of the room had to offer and instead allowed his eyes to wander to the one beside him. Angie and Moreau too preoccupied with one another, left their words to fall upon deaf ears and blind eyes. No one to pay mind to wandering hands that crept beneath the table cloth, vision shrouded by a pair of dark shades, keeping everyone unaware of just how his gaze remained fixated upon the one at his side. 

“I don’t think the freaks been taught any fucking table manners.” He muttered beneath his breath, “I’m honestly surprised we weren’t served fresh corpses on a silver platter. Can’t imagine what this bitches cellar must look like-” 

› ; .             CIRCLES IMPEDE the chance to scrutinize retinas, shades hiding true intentions like the snake of eden. cold blues narrow upon vulture’s indication that a sole doubt may transpire, miranda instinctively raising her hand from her posture to halt all conversation. her grace — vile as it is — outright takes to karl’s chin, tucking finger under jaw &&. printing thumb upon bottom teeth covered by flesh. it’s a pinch to hold, steely gaze convening with his own through glasses.

                               ❛ - trust is meant to be kept, heizenburg ; expected upon each side to a chessboard. respect coins respect, as virtues never fold. - ❜

             though her reason for speaking out of phrase is unimaginable, her grasp relents &&. frees the kin of her cadou, wings sprawling as she remains steadfast before him. their previous topic discarded, miranda makes sure her words hammer home with a flash of carrion surging through veins controlled through her own distinct power over each lord. to this, she carries a soft distribution of faith.

                               ❛ - you have done well today. insurgence is to be rewarded as done prior. - ❜

⟶   : 「 @4thlord 」

Her hold on him felt almost poisonous, like a snake which coiled round him, keeping him firmly within her grip. Paralyzed under her scrutinizing gaze, feeling like a child, being scolded despite his obvious age. It was something almost biological, something within his very DNA. Controlled by her will, in a way no normal human being could even begin to understand. 

How it had been like this, for as long as he could remember- whatever semblance of childhood and real family he may have had, long gone from his mind as she washed the slate clean. As if every cell in his body was devoted to her, molded and shaped by her will to create the perfect specimen, yet never being good enough. And how despised her for it, feeling like a dog, kept on a leash that could not be seen, the Cadou keeping him rooted to her, and deeply connected to the ground they tread on- a bond he could never truly break. Tied to the place that he wanted nothing more than to be freed of- and to think that maybe if he killed her- maybe then he’d finally be freed of such a curse.

Quickly did the thoughts subside, broken silence causing him to focus on her words, meet her gaze, hidden behind dark glasses- hoping she wouldn’t catch on to the dark thoughts that lingered in his eyes. To dream of killing the one that held him so tenderly, to bite the very hand that fed him, was a thought only he was all too twisted to have. How his jaw clenched at the very thought, his breath catching as he was reminded of her power, the display before him enough to cause his gaze to break away, hide beneath the brim of his hat as he dipped his head in forced respect.

NOT HIS ENEMY? was he fucking kidding him right now? the moment the first met, he’d already caused HARM to mortal body; piercing his through the chest before dragging him off to be BID OFF like some prize ( one that would ultimately end in his demise, depending on WHO the lucky winner was )  —  tried to kill him with whatever means of ENTERTAINMENT that .. course was ( lycans, trap ceilings .. some fucking industrial meat grinder of sorts ). who cares if he’d managed to escape it, and managed it up until now? break through every obstacle thrown his way by any means necessary, each and every one of them leaving him more BEATEN AND BLOODY than the last ( more EXHAUSTED than the last .. he was near certain there’d soon come a point when he simply couldn’t take anymore ).

❝ trust you ? ❞ he wanted him to— christ. he could almost LAUGH if he wasn’t so on edge right now. still, that doesn’t stop the slight upturn of lips, nor the SCOFF he lets out; he’d blame the DELIRIUM from all that’s occurred for the way it made him sound humoured over it. ❝ after everything that i’ve been through, and you want me to TRUST YOU ? and for what ? because you have some FAMILY DRAMA ? you don’t like them, so therefore i’m supposed to like YOU ?! ❞ sounded more like a means to getting him to finally let his guard down to make the job of finishing him OFF all the more easy ( though he didn’t doubt his words .. if he wanted him dead, he would be ).

still, he finds himself listening to words spoken by him; albeit brows remaining furrowed, pistol still raised and at the ready in TREMBLING HANDS. maybe he had one thing right about what the two of them shared in common, and that was that they BOTH wanted miranda dead. beyond that though? it wasn’t likely. all he wanted was to SAVE ROSE, and get the hell out of here  —  NOT make her into a weapon, as HE had mentioned.

❝ i don’t need you alive to save my daughter, and i’m NOT LETTING YOU use her as a weapon. ❞ though not needing him alive didn’t mean he necessarily needed him DEAD, either .. just out of the way. still, he moves with CAUTION, closer towards him; guard still HIGH despite his gun lowering to his side. ❝ only thing i see us having in common here is wanting miranda dead. ❞

To think that if he’d come to his aid sooner, maybe then their confrontation would be different. The hostility in his tone resembled that of a wolf with its leg in a trap, bared teeth, wild eyes, but apart from the venomous words and snarling of of teeth, he could see the trembling of fear in his hands. The way the gun seemed almost heavy, with the way his hands did shake- able to hide it with both hands at the ready, but the second he chose to speak, how he could see it clear as day. The man was dangerous, that much he knew, if it wasn’t clear enough from the fact that his family took to dropping one by one. Nothing more deadly than a man who had nothing to lose- fatherly love being the only thing that kept him going, not his well being or selfish desire to live. At the end of the day, it was all for her, not for her power or what she was capable of- but who she was: his daughter. Nothing more.

A part of him couldn’t begin to imagine what that love must have felt like, or if Rose would ever really know just how much her father cared. If she lived that long, if Miranda didn’t have her way, if either of them got to live to see her in one piece again for that matter. He had to make it past the gun he was staring down, and Ethan? he’d have a lot more in store if he managed to make it past him alive. He didn’t want to kill him, didn’t want this violence, which is why he didn’t dare make a move to set him off, triggering the fight or flight instincts that were so ready to jump out of this man with a single movement. Instead he studied him behind his glasses, smoke wafting from his lips as the cigar hung limp in the corner of his mouth. He could scream and threaten all he desired, waiting until he finished his warnings of death before he raised a hand to pluck the cigar from his lips to speak.

“Listen Ethan, you’re not thinking clearly.” Words stated as he took a chance to make himself comfortable, back pressed to a nearby table- or more so slab, still stained with blood and littered with bolts and gears alike. “You honestly believe you could waltz in there, put your daughter back together like pieces of some puzzle and go back to the way things were? Miranda certainly wouldn’t help you with that. You think this is just some storybook, sprinkle a little magic on her and she will be the daughter you remember?” A laugh escaped him then, brief and cutting through the silence of the room. “You need to realize something Ethan, your little Rose will never get to live a normal life you make up in your head for her. You think that asshole who shot your wife will let you have that? That the second you come running back to his arms, he won’t take Rose for himself? You’re being played, used by everyone you think you can call friend- and I’m the only one who gives a damn to tell you the truth. You want Rose to live a life where she’s not some weapon? Then listen to me, Ethan, I can help you.”

All I’m saying is that this game could have had two endings like 7. Ethan could have agreed to side with Heisenberg or not, just like when you choose Zoe or Mia. Even if Karl would have ended up dying fighting Miranda- it just makes no sense why logically he and Ethan couldn’t have become a power couple and worked together to take her down. Ethan could have had Rose in the end, Karl could have lived long enough to watch his mom go down or die trying with his pride in tact rather than the cheap boss fight he was given. In a perfect world I’d say he could escape and be free like he wanted but I know capc*m doesn’t let villains have a happy ending.

Sad that with his dying breath all he wanted was revenge on the woman who took everything from him. He didn’t even want to hurt Ethan, because time and time again when Ethan would try and engage in a fight he would push him away up until he couldn’t any longer at the last encounter. It’s unfortunate because if you look throughout the entire game Heisenberg is lowkey helping Ethan and he never realizes it- even from the beginning when he gives him a chance to run. If you think about it, consider everything being painted in yellow is Heisenberg helping Ethan. An example being when he leaves that picture telling Ethan to ‘look out the window,’ he wrote the code in yellow paint for Ethan to get a better gun and the car jack to lift the tractor. He could easily be the one leaving scrap metal for Ethan as well because from the first moment they meet and he comments on how he’s pretty tough, tough enough to survive in the village he knows there must be some potential behind him. Finding out his ability and his daughters power only solidifies that later on. 

All he wanted was for Ethan to listen to him, but Ethan after fighting so much in the game, by the time he gets to Karl he’s so dead set on killing anything and everything in his path he won’t even stop to consider reasoning with him. That’s why I think there’s a moment in the sit down chair scene where Karl leans back when Ethan spits a fuck you in his face, he’s taken off guard because he was hoping that after everything Ethan would see the way things are and side with him. Why he still even tries to talk to Ethan over the loud speaker for him to see where he’s coming from. To tell Ethan that they are more alike (in the infected sense) than he knows about, that both he and Rose have more in common with him than they do the humans that eventually come to weaponize his daughter in the end anyway ( he couldn’t flat out be like hey btw you’re moldy lol because plot obviously. ) In another life they could have both had a happy ending, or something closer than to what they both got.

1 /  ∞

It’s already known that Heisenberg’s mutation provided him with electric organs which connected with his nervous system and allowed him to harness electromagnetism, controlling magnetic fields and manipulating metallic objects. He’s also known to have superhuman strength, his hammer being is too heavy for an ordinary human to wield, ( such as when Ethan recreates his exact weapon it’s noted he’s unable to carry it. ) He is considered to be the strongest of the four lords and the one with the most stable mutation, having no real external flaws or defects with his ability. 

Just because one cannot see it however, doesn’t mean it’s not something that can be felt or sensed around him. Having a very strong aura of electricity, if anyone were to come near him they would no doubt feel the energy that seems to linger beneath his skin. Usually covered by many layers and leather gloves, it can go unnoticed, however if anyone were to get intimate, skin on skin contact, they’d be able to feel that he isn’t normal or human by any means. When he’s killed by Ethan, and the Duke comments on feeling his essence, it’s not only aesthetically the combination of metal and flesh, but no doubt one could still feel that gentle, lingering energy that hasn’t yet faded from what is left of his human form. Eventually it would come to die out, but no doubt Ethan holds the last remaining pieces of his aura before he fades for good.

Being able to control the fields around him, his emotions are also easily capable of reflecting and shifting the room itself depending on his mood. One of many reasons most find him intimidating in nature, not only knowing what he’s capable of, but being able to sense just when the mood seems to shift because of him, and how dangerous that may or may not be.

In terms of physical appearance as well, he’s able to regenerate and heal his wounds, but at times often won’t. This is mainly the cause of his scars, which have accumulated from many years of working and welding, bits of metal flying up and striking him, and more often that not he hardly wears protective gear in the act, which causes him to have lacerations on his face and hands, being rough and worn over the years. He also has many more intimate scars beneath his clothes, but it’s rare anyone gets to see that side of him. 

@fathersend​  asked:

❛  what  makes  you  think  i’d  listen  to  a  word  you  say ?  ❜

He was a stubborn one, that much he knew from the second he decided he’d rather put up a fight than lay down and die like the rest of the village people. When all the weak were weeded out, it was he who someone still managed to survive. Crawling on hands and bloodied knees, escaping from the depths of each pit of hell their quiet little town had to offer. Admirable, for even a man like he, who had little to be impressed by, found himself all the more fascinated when brothers and sisters alike began to dwindle and fade- snuffed out like candles as if it were no more difficult that exhaling breath to extinguish them. It became very clear why Miranda had shown interest- the man himself so powerful, and to have had a child that they’d only seen a glimpse of her potential, it was no wonder fear motivated his fallen family to wipe the man out once and for all.

But just like a cockroach, he came crawling back, and he himself knew it would be a waste to get rid of him. Two powerful beings in alliance, if the man could even listen to reason by this point. How he looked like a cornered dog, feral, teeth bared with every word that passed his lips, knowing well he was to blame for this outcome. If he’d only taken him in sooner, maybe then he would have been more willing- more open to the idea of seeing him as a friend. Yet instead he chose to try and bite the hand that attempted to feed him, knowing it would take time to get him to see reason.

It was why he didn’t back down from his anger, through his threats and waving weapons, he hardly even batted an eye. Instead he studied, silence filling the space between them as smoke wafted from his lips and out from under the brim of his leather hat. 

“Because I’m not your enemy, Ethan. What, you think I’d sit here, having pleasant conversation if I was? If I wanted to tear you apart, I would have done so already. All I ask is that you trust me, which I know is asking a lot.” How clear it was, to see the distrust in his eyes, the nervous twitch as he was so trigger happy- thirsting for blood.