#prctctype

“ I am more than the sum of my parts.”

Independent/extremely canon divergent Zeno from Resident Evil: Requiem.

As penned by Spooky!

Gideon was dangerously close to losing his second arm if he didn’t tread lightly. The young clone let out a snarl as he flashed his teeth, begging for a reason to tear out Victor’s throat with his teeth. “ You think you have ANY room to complain?! You fucking TORE MY HEAD OFF! You fucking ruined everything I invested in when you fucking LIED to me!” Maybe that’s what hurt him…the lying. Taking by a fool. It was something Zeno endured in the laboratory he was created in and he hoped Elpis would finally free him. “ You’re as much of a disgusting little liar as your mentor was. A fucking snake. You know what you are, Victor? The fucking DEVIL.” He didn’t believe in gods or angels or anything that wasn’t science….but he did read Paradise Lost. And Victor Gideon was as much of a snake as the one in the book.

Thwip thwap. Victor idly swung a tentacle behind him, a wide grin splitting his features. Being stuck with some tentacles and one weird little baby arm wasn't so bad... except for the loss of dexterity. That he mourned. He cocked his head to the side and contemplated caressing his former boss with one of those tentacles, just for the sake of being a complete and total dick, but thought better of it.

Zeno was chained to a small dark room, almost in permanent darkness at this point. He had stopped eating, stopped speaking, now too thin compared to how lethal he had been in the ARK.

Zeno was staring at the opposite wall as the doors opened and he didn’t react. His now-normal eyes just so….empty.

( @prctctype)

Leon took no joy in seeing the man this way. Disheveled, thin, a shell of his former self. But what was he to do, argue with his superiors on what to do with a bioterrorism criminal?

He sighed deeply as he lowered himself into the chair he'd dragged in. Then, he just sat there for a long moment in silence. He was experienced in both sides of this equation, he knew when to let the pause stew.

Zeno viewed Wesker the same way. Both instinctively mirroring behavior, though Zeno had it innate in him. Everything he inherited from dear old dad. He took a draft of his cigarette, letting the smoke billow out towards his progenitor. “ Funny….the same can be said for you. Took over thirteen tries to get something salvageable and all it got Spencer was a failure of a legacy.” Zeno looked his father up and down as he walked closer. His nose scrunching slightly. “ Stand up straight. You look like you have a spinal deformity with that stance.”

Wesker sneered at the smell of cigarette smoke. It brought back memories he'd prefer remain buried six feet under in a leaden, concrete casket. They smell like the ones Redfield used to smoke.

@prctctype - Music Box continuation

He didn't know how long he'd been asleep.

But he was so sore when his eyes finally opened. Gold and black, slit pupils like a snake.

He wasn't in the tank.

He was on a bed. Soft. Warm blankets were covering him, his head resting on a firm but not too firm pillow. The kind of surroundings he was used to. And comfort felt so... different now. Like he didn't deserve it. Like he wasn't allowed to be here.

You should be on the floor like the useless dog you are.

His own thoughts were betraying him. He tried to ignore it, but in the pit of his stomach he felt it was true. He didn't deserve this. He was only meat.

He raised his hand to his face, looking at the new scarring over his arm. He was imperfect. He was useless. Something to be discarded. He let his arm fall back against the blankets, and he couldn't force himself to move.

You don't deserve this.

Stop it... stop it... stop it...

Albert is swift to draw his gun and assume a defensive stance. He doesn't know how this person got here or how they knew him by name, but he could feel deep down it wasn't good. Unlucky was he that his team is nowhere nearby to help.

"Who are you?" He stands firm, but it's clear his hand is trembling. Seeing his own face before him moving in ways he isn't telling it is unnerving to say the least. Was this one of Umbrella's projects and did they keep him in the dark about it? Was it Birkin's attempt to one up him? To freak him out? If it was, it was working.

{ Closed starter for @prctctype in au || A Fogless Day

Claire looked over her shoulder at the clock on the wall, for the tenth time in about five minutes. She looked at her watch next before looking back at the locked door on the opposite wall of the waiting room. Her foot set to tapping again, a chorus of little echoes filling an otherwise sterile, blank-slate of a room.

What was taking them so long?

It had taken months - and probably would have taken longer if Chris hadn't intervened - to get the BSAA to agree to Claire's proposal for Zeno. They wanted to drag him off to some lab, run tests, study reactions, extract everything they could about the man Zeno was copied from, monitor vitals until there were no more vitals to measure.

Chris had winced at her idea at first, but then she had reminded him about Rosemary, about Jake, even about Jill. All cases that could have gone very wrong if people hadn't risked their necks to give them a real chance at life after some uncontrollable event. Maybe it had been a dirty move to remind him about Jill, but that had made him think of his old STARS days and the Wesker he used to know.

That had been the thing she needed to make him think there was something to hope for. What could Wesker have been if Umbrella hadn't gotten their fangs in him? What could Zeno be if they could get Connection's fangs out of him?