𝖟𝖚𝖌𝖟𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖌

Between hospital visits for myself, my partner, related to diabetes and self harm attempts. My financial situation has been weak as shit as is, but having to be out for all of that has been wildly worse.

I'm like 5k behind on rent. I'm trying to catch up on things, but I'm currently between jobs and ready to pull my own fucking hair out trying to get responses.

I'm not begging, I'm not demanding, but if anyone is ever willing and has the extra scratch to spare, and I emphasize only if you can, because as it stands I have no way to pay anyone back:

it was always like putting yourself to the grindstone, spinning rock sparking against flesh to sharpen everything you have ever been . as much in prague as anywhere else she has plucked & clipped her claws & wings to fit, to blend, to paint her reds a dull blue as to vanish into the muted colors of a far too expensive hotel . small cuts & fading bruises is what meant to suffer for your art, & would anyone see her work for the beauty she had made of it, perhaps her ache wouldn't be a point of pride . albert wesker has sheltered himself from pain such that he is no longer human, & in this as in everything else ada wong is his polar opposite . humanity is something of a virtue, & maybe she is foolish to think it so, but when she looks at him she sees how easy it was to throw away . it's why they are stuck together now like two rowdy children who don't get along, a mutual employer hoping they would keep each other in check on their playground, & that a spy who loves to tattle will let them in on the designs of their most unpredictable pawn .

“ —doesn't it ? ” her mind is awash with all the little ways to pick & prod, with a self-satisfied smile & a roll of her shoulder aimed in his direction . the safety of a public setting & the courage from the drug coursing through her veins lets her annoy at her leisure, & ada will make every second torture with the confidence she is far too good at her job not to excuse her nuisance . “ i thought i was daddy's favorite, you dress like black ops but you're better on comms . surprised you haven't blown our cover . ” she has scrutinized every step that has led him to this corner of the ballroom, read his lips & noted down the generic platitudes used to excuse himself from any fruitful conversation, like the slithering thing he is, all for a report that won't please the organization . “ it's sheryl li, by the way . ” ada leans in a bit closer, stressing her cover as if she is pressing the tip of a pen into his shin . a reference she is sure he wouldn't get . “ corporate representative of amgen inc. in case you've forgotten, i'm not just gonna to yell your name into a crowded room . ”

she disengages, turning her attention to the people mingling far away, rolling her wrist to swirl the champagne before taking another sip, when her index finger slips off the glass to pick from the crowd . “ i wouldn't judge, all i'm doing is fitting in . ” her hand begins to dance as she gets to show off her observation skills, pointing at each subject as she begins her list . “ kellner & his wife are on a little bit of speed, the busser brought it to them from the hotel's own supply, they'd be too antisocial otherwise . jakabovič doesn't go anywhere without his vitamin k . agrofret shot up heroin in the parking lot, saw him as i was walking in, guy didn't even blink . ” rather lazily her eyes turn back to wesker, smugness tugging at her lips .

the urge to grip ada’s arm and drag her outside like an unruly toddler springs to mind, though; she can’t be trusted to behave appropriately, professionally. were it up to albert he would see to it that she was escorted away. preferably as a jane doe discarded in a ditch somewhere. wishful thinking, of course, to rid himself of this rather inconvenient thorn in his side. whatever value their respective employers see in her that couldn’t be found elsewhere, albert will never truly understand.

@tyrantype :      what   was   that ?   you   don’t   care   if   you   live   or   die ?

"   b-better   ...   than   to   b-b   ...   "   piers   tries   to   say ,   his   voice   muffled   and   barely   understandable   through   the   spittle   and   his   engorged   and   infected   tongue .   and   through   his   infected   eye   he   can   barely   see   the   man ,   except   for   the   glow   of   his   reptilian   eyes   that   pierces   the   darkness   around   him ,   but   he   knows   he   was   slowly   approaching   him .   and   through   the   pain   and   the   fear   he   felt   at   that   moment ,   he   pulls   out   the   syringe   that   still   stuck   to   (   what's   left   )   of   his   swelling   and   pulsing   arm .   his   grip   is   weak ,   but   he   hopes   his   anger   and   desperation   would   be   enough   to   help   him   fight   back .   "   ...   d-death   is   ...   better   th-than   ...   with   y-you !   "

“ my, that’s a lovely sentiment, “ albert says, “ but you’re a bit late to collect on martyrdom, don’t you think? “ he hangs back just out of reach, slowly circling at shadows’ edge, studying the young man— or, rather, the parts of him that could no longer be considered man. oozing pustules, flesh giving way for bone to reform itself; albert learned long ago to find beauty in the grotesque. the extent of how much suffering the human body can endure truly is a marvel to behold.

the champagne swirls absent mindedly in her glass, a whirlpool of empty thoughts & distant emotions that play well with her professional detachment . an easy feat when your heart is not in the assignment, draped in the crystalline blues of a lace halter gown that wraps around her neck, the slit going only to her knee . there is no need to show skin, & the soulless, muted color that can scarcely compare itself to her favored crimsons makes ada wong just another among an attending crowd . a woman hidden in plain sight, a better chameleon than the man whose presence corrodes at her exposed shoulders, though far less lizard-like . albert wesker is a sculpture surrounded by the ignorant masses, unaware they are witnessing the height of performance art . he isn't chiseled from marble, no, she likens him to some poor soul covered in silver paint, drawing the eyes of bystanders with a hat at his feet, awaiting their cash & applause .

a high society event in prague's dominican hotel that was sure to pull from the most rotten of czech republic's elite .

networking truly was the worst aspect of this career & with the types in attendance, with wesker in her vicinity & no weapons on her person, she is on her third drink & feeling no effect, losing focus, care or consideration . maybe that's why he decided to join, watch her slowly deflate, trapped where she doesn't belong . ada downs what little remains & there is barely any alcohol burning against her throat, the fruity notes make her think these people are more so children, with no strife to overcome & enough money to live out all their fantasies, all in on a game of play-pretend . the glass is set by the table next to her purse, her right arm reaching withing, procuring her compact & opening its secret compartment with a satisfying click . the mirror is what catches her eye, she notes the visible exhaustion on her features, & then, angling it to catch a glimpse of wesker, the absence of emotion on his own . if she had birkin's cocktail coursing through her veins, maybe she wouldn't need to dab her middle finger on the designer cocaine that she smuggled in with her makeup . spreading it along her gums without care for who might look, to anyone far away it would seem like a woman touching up her foundation, & as she finishes massaging it into the left side of her mouth, wesker finally speaks .

@tyrantype : ❝ you look like you’ve got something to say. ❞

her upper body turns, hunched over slightly to cover her face with her compact, her finger still ballooning her cheek . there is an ever so brief, distorted, “ ⸺huh ? ” like she didn't expect to be caught in the act, like she thought he had learned to ignore her almost perfectly, her habits, her persona, her indifference . she straightens herself, taking her hand out of her mouth & brushing the stained, wet tip of her finger with her thumb . ada swallows before she continues, letting the rush of euphoria steel her thoughts, make her alive, delude her into an equal footing,

he makes his way around the grand ballroom, conversing where needed. nodding his ascent, yes of course do tell me more, flashing a tightlipped smile that barely conceals his contempt from anyone who would care to look a little closer— though, of course, no one does. albert can play charming when he wants, if he wants, though it’s with all the practiced ease of a seasoned stage actor and easy to pick apart if the audience is privy to the illusion. this was the sort of life he was born into, after all, a mirror world of what could have been had he not been plucked from its banality and thrust onto the long and arduous path towards his true purpose.

it disgusts him.

the untouched flute of champagne cradled in his hand is growing warm, so the course of his mingling finds him back at the outskirts of all the splendor, to a decorative plant where albert has been tipping wine into the pot nearly every hour he’s been here. as he looks up to survey the crowd, his eyes catch ada’s in the reflection of her mirror.

speaking of disgust— they've spotted each other, which means it's too late to pretend she doesn't exist, much to albert's dismay.

“ you may find this shocking, miss wong, “ albert says her name with a particular droning nasality which is the only thing he spares solely for her, “ but the world— and certainly not my comings and goings— does not revolve around you. “ a trite rebuttal, he knows, but it isn’t as though ada, of all people, deserves the best of his wit. 

albert regards her with a dull denigration, like he might a stain on a nice dress shirt, or a scuff on his pristinely polished shoes. inconsequential, but disruptive nonetheless. the finger in her mouth would almost seem childlike to him if not for the wideness of her pupils. the blank indifference of his expression breaks with his upper lip curling into a sneer.