#buriedabove

@buriedabove, from here

okay, what the actual fuck? tired gaze fixes on screen of her phone as index of free hand pushed reading glasses down the bridge of her nose, light blue shades illuminating otherwise dark office. so much for not wanting to argue.

KENNEDY : this is why i didn't want to mention it

KENNEDY : i never said that ??

KENNEDY : don't put words in my mouth to make yourself feel better

     crimson red droplets dripped from the ceiling by the time leon kennedy arrived to the gruesome scene. senator jack davis laid unresponsive on the floor by the desk in his office along with two security guards who attempted to stop the mutant from murdering their employer. ❝ what the hell were you thinking? ❞ @buriedabove asked the woman, covered head to toe in warm viscera. sith slowly turned to face the heavily armed stranger. with the lack of bullets being fired, short lived relief washed over her. even with the slight break in combat, nessa remained guarded and was more than willing to use the blood of the dead men against him.

“  I think we’ve gone too far.  This has to end.  ” - @buriedabove

        Prophecy revealed. The agent's betrayal became a sudden thorn in her flowering garden. Juicy lips parted as her heart sunk deep within the confines of her chest. Sylmae's breathing shuttered and her brows furrowed together. Soft pale hands reach for his own, her red eyes locked with his. Red irises darted to seek reasoning from his sudden change of heart. Bhaal's sudden appearance left the pair in shambles. The god of murder bestowed Sylmae with his ultimate desire, throw the world into unfathomable chaos. Fill the oceans with the blood of billions. It was an order that cannot be refused.

          𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠 has never been his strongest suite, but even so he doesn't really find the post-apocalyptic results of leon's drunk stupor all that amusing. most of which brought him to a point where he just shut off his primary phone for over a day, and now he's presently paging through a number of missed calls ( and a few texts to boot ). the thought of hearing @buriedabove's voice over the phone sounds like an irritating idea right now. second to that is sending a message to break the ice ▬ and his ongoing vow of silence ▬ which only sounds half as bothersome, yet equally regretful right now.

[ text: leon k. ] Hey.

[ text: leon k. ] I know I'm usually the one ignoring your texts but can you respond

[ text: leon k. ] I'm asking nicely

[ text: leon k. ] ?

@buriedabove to JILL VALENTINE .

❝ you got that look in your eye again. what are you planning? ❞

When wasn't Jill planning something?

It was just his luck that he'd managed to encounter her before she went out to enact said plan. Act first think later was a concept that very directly applied to Jill Valentine , and the day she actually considered her risks and assessed them would be the day something actually managed to knock her down for good.

"Guess you'll find out . Got a spare seat , you coming?"

The keys rattled in her pocket as she walked past him in the direction of the headquarter's doors , and towards her truck . Leon definitely wasn't going to like what she had in mind, but if they wanted to track down this dealer , this was all they had. If he could stomach her driving, of course.

"And let me guess -- you're expecting me to fill in the blanks?"

There was a not too distant point in time where Miles would have welcomed an inquisitive ear. Would have indulged someone else in their quest for information as it intersected with his own. But a lot can change in a short amount of time. Months, weeks, days -- sometimes all it takes is a single night to turn everything you know on its head.

His distrust is palpable. He's always been one to keep his guard up, hold strangers at a distance, but there's a measure of necessity in that habit now. Nothing about the guy screams Murkoff, not at first brush. Nothing about him screams totally innocent third party, either. He knows something or he wants something or both. The nails of Miles' remaining fingers press into his palms, hidden in the confines of his jacket pockets.

Undue paranoia is also a distinct possibility, but given history the concern feels justified. Still, playing it too defensive is its own risk. Playing it dumb, though, that's something he can do convincingly.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I probably know as much as you do. Less, even." A shrug, feigned haplessness, but he's still side eyeing the other with a scrutiny that's too sharp for his words. "Wish I could help."