WHITE ROSES, BLACK DOVES.

My second reaction to this, was "What the fuck."

No matter how small and niche and insignificant something seems, the very act of researching, or spending time with, or caring for it imbues it with meaning.

Now, legally, you can't ask me to do this again.

god has cursed me for my hubris, and my work is never finished.

I'm not your friend, and you have no say over what I do with my body.

Your value is not defined by the size or shape of your body…It’s about what you do with the body you’re given.

I read all this stuff so you don't have to!

I read all 337 books you dingus.

And if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go throw myself into the ocean now.

Now that you're jazzed and ready to go, time to fail.

You gotta give up on your dreams!

I couldn't give a shit about death.

Steal their hats.

Magnificent goals are worth the challenges it takes to reach them.

If I can't be accurate, I sure as hell am gonna be extra.

We are terrified of things we do not yet understand.

I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things to mean something.

When you say crucial, do you...do you mean optional?

Good enough is never enough when one is striving for perfection.

They called me a fool! But do I look like a fool to you?

ooh, look at Gordon Ramsey over here, making WARM MILK

But there's ambition in those eyes.

And if you'll excuse me, I have to go do my dark bidding in these spreadsheets.

You sweet summer child, you babe swaddled in the cashmere blanket of ignorance, YOU ASK TOO LITTLE OF ME!

The days of spring will surely bring the birds and bees cavorting. But since I am a gentleman, I'd much rather be jorting.

What if I'm never gonna die?

Seriously, who knew that my friends were SO GOOD at painting sad clowns?

If you have bugs in your house and you make the conscious decision to WANT those bugs in your house, then they aren't pests, they're pets...s.

Everyone knows that books are boring!

Is life quantifiable?

If you have bugs in your house and you make the conscious decision to WANT those bugs in your house, then they aren't pests, they're pets...s.

I hear you. I hear your questions constantly. They come to me in my dreams like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god.

Once you got that boy under your possession, time to get real into unethical science.

I earn up to $20k a month while working from home, making my own hours, and being my own boss... and you can, too!

Use your hips, but pretend they're not your hips. They're just a long long tube sock filled up with your meat. DANCE!

I don't wanna know what that mouth do

I do think we need a sexy skeleton.

When you walk into an unknown space, I want the first question on your mind to be: Am I safe to smash?

Who hired this man? I don't want him on my job site.

I know he is real, where are you hiding him?

This is a lot of research into things that really have very little meaning.

Look, I don't have to explain everything to you. I'm going through my rebellious phase.

Some of the food... may harm us.

Oh God... am I a buzzkill?

We like watching birds, which is good because we have no choice!

HOW DARE YOU JETTISON MY GIFT!

that he didn't trust her the same as he had then. she doesn't blame him. it's hardly a shock, given the circumstance and the way that they'd met. she proves a liar from the start when he realized that she wasn't simply a researcher , and who knew when that would have been? perhaps when she contacted him. perhaps only now, when looking at her as she negotiated the possibility of his exit. did he hold it against her? the lies, the stories shared over late night beers? she could swear, at least SOME of it had been honest at least, perhaps more of it than she cared to admit to. but telling him that would have handed him a gun that she wasn't prepared to part with just yet, tongue wetting between her lips as she squeezed his palm again. it felt human. she realized how much she'd tried to withdraw from that very sentiment of late.

he calls her THE DEVIL. it's hard for her to deny that, now.

what could she offer back to him now. an apology? the game that she'd been playing then had felt far more low stakes, and it all spirals out of control in a way neither of them could have predicted. she'd thought it a simple matter of corporate spying, taking a little something here, stealing a little research there... not the kind of HUMANITY ENDING consequences that she'd come to witness up close? "for what it's worth, i'm sorry. nobody could have predicted..." what this was. what it became. how now, none of them can step back from this, regardless of the want, the desire, the intent.

tangled in a web of THEIR OWN MAKING.

he's on his feet, a restless man, pondering of his fate aloud. he cracks open a freezer she hadn't realized was there, a brow rising as he neared, pressing the bottle to the back of her neck, her shoulders going up, then relaxing. leaning her cheek into her palm, a brief smile that he could have picked from their earlier years if he'd thought about it. "i don't know if i should drink it, or let you keep it there." the bones of her spine straighten, her gaze locked to his own. "while i'm sorry that fate set us back on course with each other's lives like this, for what it's worth, i'm happy to see you, and that you're alive. i think i've gotten a little TIRED about reading news of people i've liked in my life dying. so doubt me all you like, and paint me the devil, if it helps you sleep better. but the world is a better place with you in it, to me."

and with that, perhaps she needs to leave. to head back to the city, where she could take a cold shower and lay on clean sheets. the supposed luxury above and beyond it all. it pangs at something in her chest, aware, suddenly, that he was right in a way that perhaps she didn't wish to admit to. "we'll share this drink. and then, next time i come, hopefully you'll be willing to come with me as well. and don't worry. i will be back for you." not only from the perspective of RESEARCH DONE, but out. to live, again, despite the way that she felt he so clearly felt himself unworthy of. her hand wound over his to gently pry the drink free, cracking it open cleanly against the side of the table, and claiming that first, perhaps greedy gulp before it's handed over, surrendered for him to partake.

despite the fact that they're built on dishonesty and mistrust, there is some semblance of honesty in her tone.     it makes luis stop in his tracks for a moment, eyes flicking toward hers for a moment as his throat grows tight.      for just a moment, even if it had been an utter lie, he can see that girl that had sat at their table unimpressed, slinging back another shot and not even looking affected.     the girl who left a red lipstick print on the rim that made all the onlookers fan at themselves like some idiots in a movie.      ada may be run by her demons and her employers, but the reality sets in that she is a tried and true person.      what she does is for survival, same as the rest of them.      they hadn't known how different their lives would be once they had signed on to help umbrella   ——   there had been warning signs that they had all ignored, wanting to believe that a big organization would want their ideas and would want to make them something more.      but the reality is is that they've made their beds and now they have to lie in them, no matter how much they wished they could claw their way to something better.

and maybe it's more the devil he knows than the devil he doesn't, but everything in luis wants to believe that ada is better than all of this.      that she may work for someone else now and they may be worse, but she has the soft cunning that can get her out of any situation.      if she does that, then it means that luis has an ounce of a chance of survival.      after all, she had gotten herself out of tight spots   ——   she is a master of disappearing, of showing something more, of reappearances when it benefits her versus being out in the open.     he can trust her and the pact that she gives him    ——    he has to play along and play nice, but he can also come out of this alive.     not unscathed, because that will never happen again, but he can maybe do something of merit for the people that he had once loathed and loved all at once.

ada and his' fates entwining might be a blessing in disguise.     he had never considered it before, but perhaps she's going to be his guardian angel.     or at least the devil on his shoulder that makes sure he doesn't get into too much trouble. 

❛ you assume you had a choice in liking me, senorita. ❜     an easy grin is thrown her way this time; it melts away the nervousness, the apprehension that's been crossing his face for far too long during this meeting.    there's no promise that she will be good for him and vice versa, but it does feel nice to have someone on his side.      it feels nice to look over his shoulder and see friend instead of barrel of a gun.      sometimes he thinks that umbrella and all the guilt that he feels will eat him alive   ——   for the first time, he feels as if there is redemption that is closing in on him.     that maybe he can make something more of all of this. 

when the drink is offered to him he doesn't hesitate to take it.    it sends cooling waves throughout his nervous system, soothing the way that nerves and wires have been overheating.    he can feel the onset of a headache starting at the back of his skull; too much heat, too much humidity, and luis is ready to crawl into anyone's bed if it means that they have air conditioning.     but his eyes stay fixed on hers, a small noise rising up in the back of his throat as he hands the bottle back her way.

a collection of quotes from llamas with hats (because i think it's criminal that this hasn't been done). feel free to change pronouns, names, the various atrocities, etc!

(tw for gore, murder, and crimes against humanity)

❝ I do not kill people. That is...that is my least favorite thing to do. ❞

❝ [Naaaaame], that KILLS people!! ❞ / ❝ Oh! Well, I didn't know that!! ❞

❝ [Naaaaame], what did you do!? ❞

❝ [Name]! There is a dead human in our house! ❞

❝ Oh...hey...how did he get here? ❞

❝ Me? Uh, I didn't do this. ❞

❝ Explain what happened, [Name]! ❞

❝ I've never seen him before in my life! ❞

❝ Why did you kill this person, [Name]? ❞

❝ Tell me, [Name], exactly what you were doing before I came home. ❞

❝ Alright, well...I was upstairs...I was...uh...sitting in my room...reading a book...and, uh, this guy walked in...so I went up to him, and I...I stabbed him 37 times in the chest. ❞

❝ Yeah, I'm in the wrong here. I suck. ❞

❝ What happened to his hands? Why are they missing? ❞

❝ Well, I kind of...um...cooked them up. And ate them. ❞

❝ Well, I-I was hungry. And well, you know, when you crave hands... ❞

❝ I was hungry for hands! Give me a break! ❞

❝ My stomach was making the rumblies that only hands would satisfy! ❞

❝ What is wrong with you, [Name]!? ❞

❝ Well, I kill people, and I eat hands. That's two things. ❞

❝ You sunk an entire cruise ship, [Name]! ❞

❝ Are you sure that was me? I would think I'd remember something like that. ❞

❝ That sounds dangerous. ❞

❝ That, uh...that must have been horrifying to watch. ❞

❝ Would you believe it's [strawberry milkshake / melted gumdrops / boat nectar / some of God's tears]? ❞

❝ No! I would not believe that! ❞

❝ Tell me the truth, [Name]. ❞

❝ I can't believe what I'm hearing! ❞

❝ I will not apologize for art. ❞

❝ Whoa! You won the prize, I didn't even notice that. ❞

❝ Looking at the trajectory of the moon and the sun...[it's] probably at the bottom of the ocean. ❞

❝ I have a problem. A serious problem. ❞

❝ You are just terrible today! ❞

❝ Shhh. Do you hear that? It's the sound of forgiveness. ❞

❝ That's what forgiveness sounds like: screaming and then silence. ❞

❝ [Name], we're supposed to be on vacation. ❞

❝ I don't know about you, but I'm having a lovely time here. ❞

❝ The people have spoken! Viva la resistance! ❞

❝ He was a traitor and a scoundrel. ❞

❝ That was a foot. I appear to have swallowed an entire person. ❞

❝ That was horrifying, [Name]. Your mouth unhinged like a snake. ❞

❝ Wow, that sounds pretty awesome. ❞

❝ I can't go anywhere with you, [Name]. ❞

❝ That hurt my feelings. Now we're both in the wrong. ❞

❝ I want to go home. I'm leaving. ❞

❝ In that case, I should probably mention that all our luggage is filled with orphan meat. I'm building a meat dragon, and not just any meat will do. ❞

❝ You know what? Forget it. I'm not even shocked anymore. ❞ / ❝ Oh, that's no fun. ❞

❝ This has become the norm for you, [Name]. ❞

❝ I'll have to try harder next time. ❞ / ❝ Please don't. ❞

❝ It's too late now, you...I totally don't remember your name. ❞

❝ We've known each other for three years, [Name]. ❞ / ❝ And what an impression you've made. ❞

❝ Oh. I thought you were a woman. ❞

❝ Well, if you'll excuse me, I have some pictures to delete from my computer. ❞

❝ [Name], you tracked mud all over the carpet! ❞

❝ Now that right there is a mess. ❞

❝ I'm not responsible for this. I've been jamming on the saxophone all morning. ❞

❝ Clue number one: the impostor is a phantom. ❞

❝ Please tell me you had nothing to do with this. ❞

❝ You've gone too far this time, [Name]. ❞

❝ What's that? It's hard to hear you over the sound of melting city. ❞

❝ How did you even do this? ❞ / ❝ A dollop of fairy dust. ❞

❝ This isn't funny, [Name]! ❞

❝ I'm leaving. I've had enough of this. ❞

❝ Think of all the perfectly-roasted faces we get to munch on now. ❞

❝ We're friends, and friendship is two pals munching on a well-cooked face together. ❞

❝ That isn't friendship, [Name]. You're sick. ❞

❝ Well, then you're probably not gonna like your birthday decoration. ❞

❝ I'm sorry. I thought you liked faces. Obviously, there's been a miscommunication. ❞

❝ This is awful, [Name]. ❞

❝ It's not nearly as tasteful as I pictured in my head. ❞

❝ I think I'm gonna throw up. ❞

❝ Oh, God! It touched me!! ❞

❝ This was clearly the wrong way to go. ❞

❝ What can I say? I expected them to be more cooked. Raw face is just gross. ❞

❝ That isn't the problem, [Name]. ❞

❝ Why did you think any of this was a good idea? ❞

❝ I'm a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence. I don't understand how you keep forgetting that. ❞

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was she stable? was she capable? was she WORTHY?

they've come far from first-lab-crushes. they've seen death in ways that was far from natural, and that leaves a unique kind of scar on a person. luis, sweet and cunning luis, he'd wrap a lie behind earnestness, he'd make a fool of them all, if you were to give him room. he had the benefit of being underestimated, if only because he was the affable sort. with a kink for justice, even if the world was in possession of SO LITTLE of it, he loved the idea, didn't he, let it be a thing that seeped into his skin. perhaps he could dole out a little, here and there, and leave the world a better place for it. now, that was a lovely dream, wasn't it? even as luis grimly admits he knew that she'd shoot him, if need be. she'd do that for anyone, wouldn't she? able to divorce, enough, the personal from the practical. "i wouldn't want you to become something you're not." and oh, how easily one could apply that logic to just about anything, but better yet when it was served for this. her gaze met with his, her head canting to the side. "... don't worry. i won't get sentimental on you."

and that's what he really wants to hear, isn't it. that he won't become victim of the kind of monster-hood that was befalling the other people he knew, and loved. and that he was now having to face a cruel reality in which you either killed who you loved, or watched them be consumed by something that changed them into something wholly else. what an ugly realization and thing to have to live by, sighing, softly, as ada judged him from beneath the table, her knee knocking into his. "... don't worry. that's not a fate you'll have to suffer. and if it helps you SLEEP BETTER at night, then i even promise it. i won't let what whatever this is, eat you alive."

luis stood, taking his time to weave towards the bed leaned up against the wall. this place was tiny ; compounding the makeshift nature of the work he was doing, though, she had no doubt that like the work they once engrossed themselves with, that the re was still yet a lab or something more conducive for research down below. the notebook he pulls free for her was met with her keen gaze, though it's the only thing that looks as if it's ON ICE about her at the moment, dabbing her forehead with the back of her palm as she took the weathered thing from his hands, her other hand closing over his, first, to give him the steady calm that she could tell he was grasping for in this moment. it's a big decision - and more than that, it's a shift in how he's been looking at this problem the whole time. ready to now level up his research, his work, his help. "i understand." her voice bleeds with promise. a softer laugh. "i think i'd make for a rather terrible devil."

but her employer? well, that part was up for debate. ALBERT WESKER could be compared to that, and then some. not that she was ever that religious of a person to believe in such things to begin with, but she'd born witness to what felt like the cracking open of hell on earth. and at the center of it all stood people that had managed to take doses of what killed most and managed to mutate. it's sickening what people will do in the pursuit of power, but while it did nothing to agree with her, personally, it's done much to help pad ada's pockets when helping their vanity projects. the amber was meant to be something akin to that ; but her time here, and in the village, was changing ada's perspective on it all. "perhaps you might find it trite, but i'm glad you're with us on this. i want to see you thriving again. locking yourself up like this... you've punished yourself enough. it's time for you to rejoin society, and get back into doing what you do best. and that's using your mind to discover incredible things."

what ada doesn't know is that this has been eating him alive for years now, before he had even left the island and sought out better opportunities.      he remembers his grandfather, remembers each and every trip they had taken; remembers the way that he had clutched that damn storybook to his chest from such a young age.       so obsessed with saving princesses and being a hero that he hadn't seen the reality that was right in front of his eyes.       that the person that he had desperately wanted to save he never would have been able to.      no, instead he had watched the flames engulf his childhood home, watched with horror as mendes had held him back    ——    he knows that it had been a wish of his so that luis wouldn't have been held back, but he wonders if his grandfather could've known all those years ago what he would become.      how this would become an obsession   ——    how he can't seem to stop until he understands everything about the las plagas and what it's done to the village he had grown up in.         he had been such a young boy then, but it had seared itself into his brain   ——    and every time he looks at fire, he sees nothing but that cowardly child that he used to be.

handing over his research isn't something that comes easy in the least   ——   he feels it, the shake in his fingertips, the realization that he may be making things worse on false promises once more.      because that's the reality of him and ada    ——   they may have the best of intentions, but there was never going to be an easy way to decipher all of this.      they had umbrella strewn into their souls and they have nothing but a nature for too much curiosity, too much damnation in the long run.      if ever there was a reason to run and not hand it over, it would be this.       because ada is all sweetness on the outside, is ruby red lipped and dying in this overheated space of spain, but she is something else far underneath.       even as her fingers squeeze his own, he feels as if he's cut his palm and signed a blood pact.      there is no easy way out of this and there was never going to be.

❛ oh ada, are you so naive to not know already that you are the devil? ❜      his voice is honey suckle sweet on the surface, but there's an edge in his eyes.      she has played so many roles in the past    ——    were any of them even a figment of truth?       or has she done this so many times that there no longer is an ada that truly exists underneath?       maybe he's wasting his time in trusting her, putting his faith where it once again doesn't belong.      but at least he knows that this devil has a bullet with his name on it     ——     in their line of work, that is more than he could ever ask for.

❛ very pretty words, ❜     he comments back, eyebrow raising ever so slightly as he leans up against the window sill.      rejoining society was never going to be a bath for him, even when it came to all of this.       it isn't society he's rejoining; it's another organization, another phantom of umbrella.      but he has to pick his fights carefully, has to actively choose what he can put on the line to help his people.      if this is going to be something that'll help them, then he has to at least try.       for too long he has let umbrella define everything about him.     it's time to take initiative and let the past stay where it is.      nemesis can never be undone, but perhaps he can protect whatever is left of the home he had once known in retribution for it.