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Project W Subject 013 ("Albert Wesker") ([personal profile] subject_013) wrote in [community profile] deercountry2023-02-08 02:25 am

[Session 12] "It's strange what desire will make foolish people do"


Who: Albert Wesker (aka. Dr. Adrian Winters ...or Dr. Adrienne Winters) and... You!
What: February Catch-all (January Impact Summary, Wait For Me, Getting to Know You)
When: The last month of the Bone Moon time
Where: All over Trench, on the seashore, to be added to...

Content Warnings: Immobilization, dysphoria, loss of a loved one, virus as metaphor, and corruption symptoms in "Wait For Me" Emotional/psychological distress, religious weirdness, childhood trauma referenced, physical trauma referenced, misanthropy discussed, forced evolution discussed, event-specific self-harm referenced in "Mother's Mercy"




"Pretty girls don't cry, they know exactly what they want." January IC Impact Summary

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"The world was on fire and no-one could save me but you" - Wait For Me Early February

A cold grey day, like so many others this time of year, the sand as grey as the sky above, the ocean groaning under the cracking ice.

On a large rock above the tide line, a figure sits unmoving, a statue in ebony and ivory with hints of gold, a woman in a black suit over a white shirt, layered under a black leather duster, the skirts of the coat spread behind her, knees tented, elbows resting on them, her hands relaxed between them. Her red-gold feline eyes linger over the sea as she sits there, as if watching the tide for the Sleeper Squids arriving.

Linger long enough beside her and one's Omni might notify them with a text or perhaps even a voice message, a thoughtful, even melancholy baritone voice musing:

It's calling to me, but I haven't the heart to heed it. There's too much for me to do here and nothing left in my world of origin.

I wonder if her voice is in the chorus.

I wonder how many others have found what the sea took from them.

Time may pass. Return after a few days and the figure still lingers on the rock. Ice has formed on the figure, as if the salt spray from the sea has collected on them. An icicle hangs from one cheekbone, as if they had wept in the meantime.

One's Omni activates and a message scrolls across the screen:

What is love? It is the most dangerous, dare I say lethal virus I have known, and I have worked with pathogens that could kill a person and raise them back to a shambling unlife. Love either lifts one up and creates a higher state of living or when denied, leaves one in a state of pain for which there is no remedy.

I was better off before I contracted this pathogen. I was better off before it managed to slip past the inevitable one small gap in my defenses.


A week or more may have passed since the figure appeared on the stone and a change has happened. The female has Shed into a male, as evidenced by the sloughed skin collected at the base of the rock. And yet the male does not look as good as the female. The skin looks ashen and dry but not peeling. The red eyes have a dull reddish glow behind them, like the light of dying embers on a cold and empty hearth. The tips of the canine teeth protrude below his upper lip. Something seems to move under his skin and under his clothes. The tip of a black, tentacle-like protrusion might emerge from his sleeve or under his collar before quickly retracting.

I was better off as the cold, heartless sentient bioweapon I was manufactured to be, before I awakened here.

What good is having a heart when that heart can be broken? That old saw about it being better to have loved and lost does nothing to address the vulnerability it requires. Nor does it address the reality that some of us have had too much of their vulnerability exploited. I wonder how much suffering the inventor of that proverb experienced.


If one draws close, the eyes of the figure turn, honing in on the interloper, as if trying to freeze them into place. The Omni pings again. Don't come too close. The weapon is armed.

[Warning: Going by the Corruption route may result in his trying to attack. Be prepared for self-defense or talking him down from the rage he's gotten into.

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"I know when somebody's lying" - Getting to Know All About You February 20th

Perhaps a strange force pulls you sideways from whatever place you occupied and into a space like a strange cafe, two comfortable couches facing each other. In the one opposite sits a tall, blond male humanoid, clad in a set of tan medical scrubs, a concerned but curious pucker gathering his handsome features, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Something about his demeanor suggested the same force had pulled him from a work room, perhaps in the Lumenarium.

"This is rather sudden," the newcomer remarks, crossing his legs, putting his ankle on his opposite knee. "The Doorway must be especially firm this season, when it comes to pairing us off. This isn't the worst place I've been summoned into without warning." He glances to the button at his side. "Do we want to know what this thing does? I can do the honors of testing it, unless you would prefer."

If one tries to identify this Sleeper via their Omni, an absurd profile turns up.

"Did you just scan me with your Omni? I know I'm photogenic by human standards, but I'd prefer if you asked politely first," he says, with a dangerous but amused smirk.

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"It hurts so bad when you finally know just how low, low, low, low, low she'll go" - Mother's Mercy February 25th

Wesker does not consider himself a religious person, though he does believe that higher powers exist. His prior loyalty to Mother Superior came from a sense of self-preservation in a strange world. Finding her more ruthless than himself and shockingly similar in some ways to Spencer had weakened some of his loyalty. And then she seemingly abandoned him during the debacle which Bill Cipher's portal construction devolved into.

Even still, he ventures into the Pale Sanctuary, seekubg a document which a scribe at Soma pointed him toward, in his quest for information regarding the Zealots. Given Maul's statement that the Zealots must be curbed, he's taken it onto his shoulder. He'd undermined Umbrella Corporation and brought it down, thus espionage is familiar ground. A cult isn't too different from a corporation.

And as so often, this turned into an apparent trap. Guilt and regret he has pushed into the back of his mind. And yet for all that science has given him, for all the mutations and advances he has made, he remains human at his core. That core can still sense guilt.

"I only wished that humanity could share the same invulnerability," he says, kneeling before the image of Bausphomette, bracing himself with one gloved hand on the floor.

"You don't think I can understand pain? I know how trauma can affect a person, If I could help humanity to rise above as I have risen above, if they could heal as I can and be as strong and swift, they could reach their fullest potential.

He raises his head, eyes starting to smolder and glow, even as he reaches inside his coat, taking out a case containing several clean cannulas, selecting one. "If I harmed human subjects in the process, it was to discover what *wouldn't* work."

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"Baby did a bad, bad thing." - Wildcard!

Got an idea for something else? Feel free to toss me a PM or just toss in a toplevel on this post (and yes, all the song lyrics are from Chris Isaak songs.)
imaglyphwitch: (stirring up bravery)

<--is rocking the "American Mcgee's Alice" soundtrack by random contrast

[personal profile] imaglyphwitch 2023-03-01 07:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'll be careful."

This was going to be tricky though. He'd been there for her own corruption; it made sense she would attempt to help with his. The only trouble was she didn't know exactly how she would do it.

She saw the movement by his sleeve, and understood instantly that he was just barely keeping himself together.

"I might have a leftover mushroom for this," Luz said, trying to steel away her fear. It might not completely fix you, but it'll at least beat back some of the corruption."