#deadfuture

Subtly was a skill and she managed to somehow keep a straight face as she quietly snuck up from behind him and dug her fingers into his sides.

“Leon is an interesting person. I still have a hard time believing how unfazed he seems by all of this. 

He says it is because he’s seen it before, but I can’t imagine. Wouldn’t it make this more daunting? I have to admire his strength to do what is right  and what is needed. I almost feel ashamed for not taking action sooner when I see how hard he throws himself into his mission. 

But I do worry sometimes...

I am learning more about my new friend as we go, but I wish I could get a better read on him. What if he needs my help and I miss the signal? 

I must try harder so he can go back home and forget about all of this!”

@deadfuture​ [x]

Hank surely did not enjoy it to be at this fucking party - gala, whatever. Had been forced to appear, as he was a fucking cop and asked to do his damn job instead of sitting around at home watching the Detroit Gears on TV.

It should have been one of his rare free days, really - had planned to drown his sorry existence in beer and Whiskey, enjoying some alone-time, but was surrounded by a bunch of apparently-important people instead.

There was this guy taking a seat next to him - someone the lieutenant hadn’t met before, but one single glance told him he wasn’t here to enjoy the shitty music and top-class ambience either. Hank had been with the police for long enough to be able to tell whenever another member of whatever law-enforcement was facing him, and this man definitely was... someone. Something. Anything, really.

Probably not a cop. More like an agent or... stuff like that. Whatever.

He sighed, watching the younger take that glass of wine before emptying his own, mediocre beer with one large gulp, huffing as he forced himself to sit a bit more upright, blue hues trailing away from his unwanted companion to take in their surroundings.

“And I, you.” Wesker says, reaching up to adjust his sunglasses. “Wong was always so…particular whenever your name would get thrown out.” Particular was one way to put it, having a tendency to forget where her loyalties lay and who was signing her paycheck was another.

“How are the Redfield’s these days? I do believe that you’ve maintained some semblance of a relationship with them? It is strangely entertaining to me how small the world continues to prove itself to be. Just think, If you had come just a little bit earlier to Raccoon City, we might have crossed paths. I seem to recall a banner, if I’m not mistaken? They were so pleased to get a new rookie assigned. Too bad no one got to cut the cake.” It was one of those random pieces of information that Wesker filed away. That banner. It’d been amusing when he’d first seen it.

cont. from x

A smile placed itself upon her lips as she stared into his eyes. making it hard to fight the blush settling upon her freckled face. the redfield had sworn to herself that she would never catch feelings. yet, it seemed inevitable whenever they were messing around. "how long were you thinking about that ?" she teased, giving him a wink.

Chris’ heart is in his throat, his knife held tight in his hand, and though he itches to pull his gun out, at this point he knows well enough that the undead moving around him would swarm him at the noise.

One by one, he tells himself. You just have to be patient.

And so he waits until he’s sure there’s only one zombie left shuffling around in the hall before leaving his apartment and coming forward to jam his knife into its skull.

It cracks with a sickening sound, blood spilling onto Chris’ boot, and then the body thuds onto the floor. With a relieved sigh, Chris turns in the direction of the fire escape and--

“Hrrk!”

The lash of a something long and leathery around his neck nearly pulls him back all the way, but he holds steady on two feet and gasps as his knife falls from his hand. Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit shit--

“He-- hhhkk--”

“I’m..adopted?”