#deadkenndy

casually leaves this.

"You're not funny."

@deadkenndy sent: "do you even hear yourself?"

⊹     . . .     continued  from  here  with  @deadkenndy  !

𝐀  𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐒𝐄  𝐈𝐍  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖  𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑  revealed  the  horrific  scene  they  left  behind     —     a  dozen…  things,  undead,  staggering  hungrily  after  the  speeding  car,  slowly  fading  into  the  distance  along  the  abandoned  highway  as  the  screeching  tires  put  a  good  distance  between  them  and  those  who  lusted  for  their  flesh. 

Only  then,  once  the  grotesque  figures  had  shrunk  to  mere  dots  in  the  mirror,  did  Claire  manage  to  tear  her  gaze  away.  ❝   I’m  Claire…  Claire  Redfield.   ❞

"Tell me who sent you."

It's not a request, and he makes that point rather clear when he drives the tip of the knife forward. Pressing hard enough that the skin starts to bleed beneath it. Each word spills out in a growl. Anger has rattled him. The sheer excess of just how violently they had fought wears on his mind and body alike, yet he does not give up. True to his training he only pushes on.

Through ragged breaths he waits and feels denied when the answer does not come. His other fist clenches in a moment of red hot anger, as if he thinks to strike Leon outright.

"Speak, or die!"

Emerald gaze is focused carefully where she wraps bandages around a cleaned cut to his forearm, breaths steady and thoughts as attentive as with any other patient. 

“That should hold for the time being; definitely change the bandages as often as you can; I got a pack here I can give you if it helps.”

( @deadkenndy asked: ❛ I felt something loosen in me that shouldn’t have been loosened. ❜ //krauser. training is rough ok. )

jack takes a step back, taking a moment to slip his knife back into its holster. in lesser hands, it might've been a dangerous prop, but training was better with the weight of real weapons in their hands. he'd never nicked a trainee ( but now and then one got him — clumsily ). the back and forth had been going well until krauser had spun a kick straight towards the other man's chest.

he takes the complaint seriously, though he's sure he didn't kick him hard enough to break anything. he's had the wind knocked out of him more than enough times and sure as hell felt like something snapped when it hadn't. he doesn't go easy on the guys he trains. hell, the field wasn't going to be easy on them and he'd be doing a disservice if he made it too easy.

❝ what'd you do? knock a rib loose? don't need a trip to the medical bay, do you? ❞

@deadkenndy asked: ashley's shame sign is "I steal extra desserts from the dessert cart."

"Shit." Kevin lowers his pistol, eyes still on the other man as realization sets in. Not only was there another survivor, but it's someone he'd been expecting and hadn't exactly wanted to meet this way. "You're the Rookie. Kennedy, right?"