#guiltysurvived

˚₊·゜・．     𓆩♡𓆪        𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍  𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑        &        @guiltysurvived

𝐈𝐓  𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓  𝐓𝐎  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑  𝐇𝐈𝐌  𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇  𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍,  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐒𝐇𝐄  𝐇𝐀𝐃  𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐃  𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄,  𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍  𝐀𝐒  𝐒𝐇𝐄  𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖  𝐈𝐓  𝐓𝐎  𝐁𝐄  𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄:  there  was  no  way  out  of  this  mess,  this  chaos  that  had  become  both  their  lives...  at  least  none  that  was  compatible  with  the  sense  of  morality  both  Redfields  clung  to. 

To  look  away  would  be  to  become  an  accomplice;  an  act  of  cowardice,  pretending  none  of  it  was  happening  simply  so  they  could  relish  in  the  illusion  of  a  peaceful  life  while  the  world  slowly  succumbed  to  the  horrors  they  had  been  forced  to  witness. 

Chris  couldn’t  do  that. 

Neither  could  she. 

❝   Yeah...   ❞   The  agreement  was  little  more  than  an  exhaled  breath,  weary  in  much  the  same  way  his  words  had  been  beneath  all  the  courage  he  still  carried  like  armor.   ❝   I  know.   ❞   

he really wasn't going to punch the guy, tempting as it was but something must've shown on his face because suddenly steve sensed a familiar presence behind him and now he's practically staring at what can only be compared to a brick wall cause goddamn it chris. "oi." the redhead doesn't really fight back, it already must look ridiculous enough as it is and he wasn't going to add more to it.

"i wasn't going to do anything..." well, maybe. it's not his fault that the guy's face looked very punchable.

Send 🗡 to hold a blade to my muse's throat for their reaction! send reverse for the opposite.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you were trying to kill me, Redfield.” A wicked smirk crosses her features as she says that, hands up on either side of her head before reaching down to grab his forearm and try to pry it off her neck.

Her grips like a vice, inhuman in its intensity, having to use an insane amount of strength just to pull his arm away from her neck enough to drop loose from his hold. Once she was free, she twisted her arm in a way that threatened to snap his arm if he didn’t release her wrist, thrusting the heel of her free hands palm up at his chin as another incentive for him to back off.

He’d let go of her one way or another.

“Happy to know you shoot to kill even in training, though. This is way too fun.” She hums a laugh under her breath, resuming her usual defensive stance- hands out in front of her, close to her body, ready to grab any strikes launched her way. There’s something off about her, though. There’s a wheeze in her breathing that was scarily similar to the J’avo, and her pupils were blown wide.

Adrenaline was a hell of a drug.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆   𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲   𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 / @guiltysurvived

          GRACE  COULD  HARDLY  BELIEVE  IT  either  -  her  luck  wasn't  usually  that  good…  and  she  certainly  wasn't  about  to  test  its  limits  by  pushing  it  for  another  round!

“  I  think  you're  just  a  sore  loser  -  ”  she  laughed  a  little,  placing  her  hands  behind  her  back  as  she  rolled  pale  eyes.

Every  time  she  had  to  come  to  the  DSO  for  something  or  another,  for  personal  reasons  or  business,  she  always  seemed  to  walk  in  on  very  interesting  sights.  Like  a  rock  paper  scissors  competition  -  one  Chris  Redfield  had  just  been  eliminated  from,  via  Grace's  unusual  luck  today.

⊹     . . .     𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃     ／    @guiltysurvived

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐘  𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃  𝐁𝐘  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄  𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑  𝐓𝐈𝐄,  the  auburn  strands  broke  free  from  their  secure  hold  beneath  the  merciless  fingers  of  her  dear  brother     —     his  ruffle  so  sudden  that  not  even  her  instinctive  attempt  of  escape  could  prevent  the  inevitable  ruin  of  her  hair. 

❝   Hey!   ❞   Even  as  she  tried  to  sound  firm,  Claire  couldn’t  quite  keep  a  laugh  from  slipping  into  her  tone. 

“I beg your FINEST FUCKING PARDON?” She growls, blowing three 10-gauge shots into a BOW’s head before turning to face him fully.

The situations dire, and her eyes are scanning the room for any way to possibly escape- Or at the very least slow the infected’s advances…

The debris surrounding them could be used to their advantage, but she’d need a vantage point.