#rusthunt

10. worst part of fanon

the "redfield bloodline" jokes . do not even get me FUCKING started on that bs. it's so immature and it does such a massive disrespect to claire especially , but also chris and everyone else involved in this whole thing . i've never really found it funny and frankly it's . misogynistic and i'm really not a fan of it at all . by far the worst thing in fanon / fandom for me and i cannot engage with any of this.

your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

@rusthunt | 🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥

this had been the most convoluted thing in existence. this being working alongside people who were supposed to be dead or at the very least long gone. this being the fact that leon was trying to look into what he could genuinely find about dulvey and report back with his findings. this being the weirdest vacation he's actually been on. ( we can't say it's a mission, because no one forced himself there )

it wasn't leon kennedy going rogue. this was leon kennedy helping someone find out more about their own afflictions. sort of. this was the blonde, hunched over his laptop breaking several laws of the united states government that would have him serving for even more years past his expiration. ( truthfully, leon knew that he was doomed until he died, but this might just put it over the current date that leon would have to be with the united states government. )

wondrously, the internet to his computer was impressively fast, though he wasn't sure how. nothing in this village seemed state of the art.

he didn't sleep much. either. the village had been so offset that it made leon uneasy. the blonde knew he'd have to eventually sleep but right now, his notebook had scramblings of notes on everything with dulvey. it was hypothetically opening up a closet and finding not only things you hadn't known about but also at least six herds of elephants that you should have known about. there was mixed notes, some pages were marked 'K' and others were not. he had meant for all the notes to be for just Karl's eyes to be given to him. all of the other pages had scrambled notes for leon to go back and do more research into. how did the dso not know about the corruption within the bsaa? how did they not know about the e-strain virus directly under their nose?

or did they?

there's a certain point where leon finally finds himself too exhausted to keep researching. food would also be a top priority, but leon wasn't focused on that yet. he could go a few more hours before he'd go scavenging. maybe he'd find that over joyous gentleman that kept reminding him of someone from the early 2000s that he'd left in his past.

this place is not the most comfortable, but he finds himself resting his head against the table that he's working on in the ramshackle house that he had chosen. as much sleep as he got, it's still not enough, when leon, disoriented, wakes up a few hours later- clearly the only thing awake in the home he had taken over, before he stretches back to feel his back crack in two different places as he stretches uncomfortably. that's when he is slowly coming to. slow blinks register, almost immediately, two golden somethings in the corner of a very pitched back section of the house.

hand immediately reaches out to grab the handgun that he fell asleep next to, immediately aiming it towards the eyes he's looking at. " i assure you, americans don't miss even if they're half awake, " it's an empty threat- laced with the dry venom that he usually accompanied venom in his words. but it's still a threat as long as they continue just . . . staring at him

the agent manually pulls back the hammer on his gun, still aiming, trying to figure out he wants to do. or what the stranger wants to do.

//CLOSED STARTER ❯ FOR THE GLORY AND THE FALL

@rusthunt [heisenberg]

Jill Valentine had been betrayed many times before , but none of it stung as much as this time .

Her longtime mission partner hadn't contacted her for the better part of several years , and he'd taken several men and deserted the organization both of them worked so hard to build. She'd seen the files , she'd read the reports of the sudden disappearance - hell , had tried so hard to get into contact with him again and again , but had been met with nothing. Over and over again , the dial tone on the other end of a phoneline , letters never returned .

adventure.. he plays here in his scrap pile, twisting bodies into weapons that fail again and again, and speaks about adventure. not to say there isn't intrigue. not to say victor hadn't perused the swathe of diagrams on that distant desk of his and wondered whether a tweak, here or there, would solve his conundrum. less mechanical, more biological, karl is a smart man, but his shortcomings stand here, at attention. what is this visit if not an opportunity to forge some semblance of .. perhaps not camaraderie, but understanding.

" i believe our definition of adventure differs to some degree, " and he doesn't shield his disappointment from his tongue. misunderstandings were hiccups. they were the gnat you swat till it succumbs. the hurdle you jump because it is low and you, capable. here, they read from different textbooks and their conclusions, while varying, ought verge.. even a fraction would do.

in a typical setting, a sprawl of a lab, all petri dishes and vials filled at an array of levels, one did well to keep their hands to themselves. respect, while fickle, was a necessary tool when genius was at work and curiosity was better seen and not heard. but this setting is atypical and his respect is in short supply, invaluable, and wholly reserved for a time when @rusthunt has earned it.

" take for example— " lenses adjust on their own, zeroing in on the finer details of a wall tacked with the images of familiar and unfamiliar faces. and then it drops. " —this. " picks a model out of the sea of parchment, and approaches it with two wide, casual strides. to the common man, this is one of many macabre projects. iron replaces bones.. gears for a circulatory system. fascinating, but inadequate for a purpose he has, very slowly, started piecing together.

" your craftsmanship is extraordinary, " in the light, the finer details can be appreciated. stroked by a fond appraisal, the doctor only lifts his head once he's assessed the damages done, " but your execution.. well, we can't all have a surgeon's steady hands, can we. " there's the peek of gold. a glittering smile that splits him wide and breeds the notion that he uses the term we deliberately. underhanded kindness when his own fingers know the cool edge of a scalpel well. " the human spine is simple to replicate, but its functions.. "

back to the table, he drops this chart and analyses two more before diverting his attention where it belonged. " if i were a gambling man, i'd wager this subject has been terminated. " the ventral horn of the cord was misshapen, no doubt leading to an entertaining, albeit fruitless, mess of jerking limbs and eventual atrophy. a waste.