what is a king to a god?

  Forgiveness dripped from her, tampering with the scales of justice and mercy until the balance hung in her favour. Yet such bias was skewered by her perception; a weak and delicate thing that could be shattered by the gentlest of winds. A smile there, a wink there; flirtatious gestures and stoic smile shifted her view on many a personage before her. Fragile view was often constructed upon first meeting, whereupon she sized the other up with frigid eyes that seemed to be crafted of ice and snow. Tall, dark; with imposing eyes and mirrored lenses that reflected the airy confection of lace and satin that reclined so regally against overstuffed silks. With no gaze to analyse, watering eyes drifted to proud shoulders and titanium spine, weighed down with the weight of the world and arrogant pride.   Nevertheless, jewel encrusted hand beckoned,diamonds and pearls winking in the light. The Prophet had paid the Blessed Mother well for her silence, it seemed. Shining with jewels like a star in the heavens was this earthly Queen of Heaven, burdened with her wealth as she was with the magnitude of sins that simmered in the air around her.    “Ah, you have come to the right place. The New Eden offers a second chance to all those who repent their sins. While we may fester in them, the Prophet offers a chance at redemption to those who would seek it.”

He would not hide his arrogance as some had seen it.  Nor would he hide anything that others would have called a flaw in his perfect design.  He was here to ask for forgiveness from a woman he did not know who participated in a religious cult Wesker knew was doomed.  He must play the part of a man burdened with grief over demons he cannot dispel.

"Your kindness is wasted on a man such as I."

He said, belittling himself as he took the seat near the queen.  And indeed it was wasted; no act of kindness would ever penetrate Wesker's being.  He no longer had need for such trivial acts he thought he deserved, was entitled to.  If a peasant were to offer to carry him on his back, no thanks would be given and the gesture met with a broken neck and a body fed to B.O.W.s.

Right now, he would like to reach across, take a hold of that petri dish of disease of uselessness called a child and---  He cleared his throat.

"My lady, it pains me to speak of... my shortcomings."

It really did; Wesker scoffed at the idea of himself having shortcomings.

Sickening. There was a time where Ada worked for Wesker, a time where despite her intentions of betraying the tyrant, she had respected his knowledge and dauntless dedication. Her stomach turns to the sight of crimson hues, he’s hardly even human anymore — but such was to be expected, he loathed his humanity to the core, cared for nothing more than to become a God.

      “So… Why bother to even show yourself to me? I’m of no use to someone like you anymore — our days are long in the past.”

Her weight shifts, body taking a firm stance to her current position. She would not argue nor fight the overestimation of his own abilities, there was a time where some of his sanity still lingered within him — but that was no longer the case, he was dangerous, unhinged, and most importantly more than capable of accomplishing his tasks. Ada’d be stupid to push her luck and she’s not near t h a t reckless.

It was a small list of names that Wesker was willing to take. Ada Wong was not on it.

"On the contrary, a god can always use more acolytes."

{♥} “Well… I don’t really plan on ending up at the bottom of the food chain any time soon…”

She paused, taking a moment to really examine him. Something about him seemed a bit off, but even then, Juliet wasn’t one to turn those away who were trying to interact with her. The offer for payment only made the predicament a bit better.

"I am involved in certain scientific studies."

It was true that it is scientific in nature, but Wesker was not interested in trivial tasks such as curing the common cold or ending the zombie plague.  His work was more along the lines of permanently curing the world of a disease called humanity.

He looks at his right arm, wondering if that was the subject of his inquiry. If not, what on earth was the stranger talking about?

Yes his arm.  Wesker is not interested in pretty faces and poor fashion sense.  Without that arm Nero would not have been given a second look.

"If that is what is necessary, then of course. You know that I only strive to perform at the highest of standards."

"I do not require the affection of a traitor.  Though I do not see her around with you.  Has she ditched you again?"  If dryness is what Leon is looking for, Wesker's voice does not change in intonation.

          …I could easily reach across this table and snap your neck…

She chose this place so she would be save, but somehow she had the feeling you are never save when you´re around Wesker. It was a bad idea to meet him. Putting down her cup of tea, she watched as he moved his hands. Ada couldn´t see them anymore now, they disappeared under the table. Another fact that made her feel uncomfortable.

Ada got the confirmation she wanted: That monster was still alive. Time to go. Or maybe she could try to gather some more information?

"It seems we have the same intentions tonight. As you can see I´m fine. Nothing interesting happened in the time where you haven´t been my employer. I´m afraid I don´t have much time to talk. I´m a busy woman."

Nothing interesting happened? Of course that was a lie. Wesker probably heard of the incidents in China. But like Hell she´d tell him what truly happened there. And she was far away from being fine. The longer Ada sat there with Wesker within touching distance, the more she felt sick.

Suddenly she remembered one of her always returning nightmares. Wesker chased her in the middle of the night. Ada couldn´t hide, nor could she run away. He always outran her. And whenever he caught the frightened spy, he grabbed her neck, lifting her up with the words:

Ḭ̡͇̬͍͚ ͇ẃ̮̰̗i̶̲̞̜̖̰̳̗ḻ̭͙́l̠͈͚̭͙͖͟ͅ ͔̬̖̱̝͉̻b̰͉re͕a̻̮̥̲k̵̠̪̞͖̦̟ͅ ͏̫̙͕̥̙y͕̝̼̫̞ó̫̼͔͓̰ͅu̼͖͡

                                    u̺͈̺̜̙̱̞̍̒ͥ̍ͨ͐͌͌͢n̂̋̎̌͏̧͈̬t̶̮̝̣͖̲͕̺ͭ̌̈́̽̇̒ͣ̓͝ȋ̵̷̜͙̼͈ͦ̄ͯl̻̻ͣ͊̕͠͞ ̵̰͖̠̐͌ͮ̊̇̊̐̊̔t͋̓̐̇ͣ̀͡͏̻̝̭̝h̢̠͖̎ͫ͟͢ĕ̶͉ͦͯr̰͍͇̟ͧͬͦͩ͋̋̅͞͝e̢̳͚͉̥̤̱͍̰͆ͪ́̋ͭ̽̔̎̓̀´̵͔̙̯̟̞͈̖̤̄ͭ̕s̶̭̯͙̯̱̍̃̅͛ͣ̀͞ ̙̞͉̖̔̉͑̍͠ṉ̥͈͉̼̖͊̅ͤͦ͆ͧ̿o͕͈̦̼̤̅͋ͅt̸̥̺̰̑̔͜h̴͚́͗̔ͭ̀ͨͥ̊͘͜i͛͊ͬ͛̆҉̭̲n̩͓̅ͩͥ̓ͮ̑͐͜͜g̨̩̬̬͚ͭͭ͑͊́͒͜ ̴̢͇͎͑͆ͬ͜l̸̸̟̫̼͈̹͓̿̌ͅe̼͖̻̯̥̩͓̟̾ͯ̐͗͗ͣͨf̸̛̞͖ͥ͊͢ṫ̖͕̗̭̍̀͂ͪ͠͝ ̘̼͉̱͚͑͌̓̿͊͑ͭt̍̿ͮ̆̍̑̂͏̴̴͕͈̞̯̼o̸̸͎̩͗ͪͦ̒̾͡ ̢̙͚̰͈̳ͩ͒̽̾b̛̬̯͔͓͆̔͊r͙̯͚͐̍̐̚͘e̵̜̳̎̈͐͆̅̈́͂ͯ̀ā̦̳͍͛ͭ͌̂͊̋̑̕k̲̦̓̿̊̔ͮ

His laughter then woke her up every time.

The tea for Wesker arrived, and here he had thought Ada might have been lying about it.  It sat on the table though, Wesker was not going to drink it.  No matter where he went, as long as he did not prepare it himself he did not take any risks.

Wesker watched her take a sip.

He was a god, but the human race was always eager to try to destroy their gods.  Turn away for a moment and they quickly will find a golden calf to kneel before instead of you.

"I'm sure you were quite busy in the time span that I had been otherwise preoccupied.  I've heard a few things, Miss. Wong."

    No, Lutece had been far from seemingly impressed. Reason for this being that those who typically approached, as did this outlandish character, held a hidden agenda… A most unfavorable one, at that, if one were to make estimations on both his ominous grimace and trivial attire. The fellow did not frighten but he did raise question.

     As if the physicist had never before heard such speculations.

This woman, was not one.  She was on a higher level than the others.

"My apologizes," a term that is hollow when used by Wesker, "perhaps acquaintance is too strong of a word."