[Session 6] "Oh Perilous Place, walk backward towards you"

[subject_013]

Who: Albert Wesker and.... you.
What: April and May catch-all: Evils from his world of origin try to take residence via the portals.

When: Throughout April and May.

Where: Lumenwood and elsewhere


Content Warnings: Standard Resident Evil terrors: zombies, body horror, violence. Potential spoilers for Welcome to Raccoon City and Netflix's live action series

Comments

Wildcard

[subject_013]

Lyrics nicked from "Wunderkind" by Alanis Morrisette - Anything not listed here? Toss it on.

Rotten Work

[the_obedient_servant]

[It's early that month that Chara decides they might as well pay Dr Winters a visit, as so directed by Vira-Lorr. They knock on the door to his clinic, this Arklay House, a satchel of their own blood supplies strapped to their side underneath their dark green cloak.

They are getting restless. Not impatient, of course, they're willing to wait as long as it takes to kill this woman, but the lack of any progress on their own is frustrating.

So, here they are. With a propisition.]

Doctor Winters?

[They call out, their voice chillier than it really has any right to be considering their size and apparent age.]

Re: Rotten Work

[subject_013]

[The front door opens and a tall, grizzled Hunter in leather armor over a homespun tunic, one arm heavily wrapped in bandages emerges, followed closely by an even taller, blond male in a tan, ankle-length lab coat, dark glasses hiding his eyes.]

Make sure you change the bandages twice a day, and continue applying the rinse. [He peers over his patient's shoulder, the Hunter turning to glance at Chara. "Got it, Doc - hey, you got some kid out here," the patient rumbles, as he heads on his way.]

I thought I'd heard a voice out here. [The Blood Minister makes no effort to lean down to Chara's level.] Yes, I'm Doctor Winters. And what can I do for you?

[the_obedient_servant]

[It's a good thing he doesn't, they would have promptly and immediately walked outside. They spare no glance at the patient, instead stepping inside the minister's clinic. They hum in contemplation as they take it all in, before turning to answer his question.]

A mutual friend referred me to you. Vira-Lorr.

She said you've been studying blood and blood magic. I have a proposition to make, but first I'd like to ask some questions.

[subject_013]

[An entryway with a waiting area and a small reception desk manned by a bespectacled young woman with dark hair gives onto two front rooms, repurposed as clinical rooms: to the left, an examination room and dispensary, to the right, a recovery room with a few beds, one occupied by a heavily bandaged young man, a red-haired woman in green sitting by his bedside holding his hand.]

[Dr. Winters saunters inside, pushing the door shut behind them both, looking at Chara with head tilted. A small smirk pulls at the corners of his mouth.]

You come with an excellent recommendation, then. I've know Vira-Lorr since Sodder's Dream. I've been focusing my research on Corruption and seeking a better way to control it, but one can't limit one's focus too narrowly.

[He tips one hand.] Ask away, I'm willing to answer them

April - Portals

[subject_013]

It happens in a small square in Lumenwood, in the north of the district, between Arklay House and Soma. A meteor tinged in red and white falls, landing in a flash of alternating spokes of color.

Then the portal opened, octangular in shape and as wide as the side of a building, in alternating spokes of white and red, the white lowermost, with three more vanes visible in a crude Maltese cross. Low moans throated snarls emanate from the vanes, gunfire and explosions, shouts of human soldiers, then an earth-shattering series of explosions. The uppermost along with the two latitudinal vanes show glimpses of differing yet similar worlds.

Wesker discovers it, en route from returning from a house-call - a two-month appointment for a Trench woman delivered of half-Pthumerian twins. He pauses, staring at the portal, taking in the views.

In one vane, to his left, one timeline plays out where he'd had a relatively normal life, serving as the captain of the Raccoon City Police Department's STARS, no shadowed and deeply traumatic past, still with the ambition to leave Raccoon City and get out from under the shadow of the Umbrella Corporation, a timeline where a differing Leon had served as his colleague.

In a second, to his right, he appeared as a completely different-looking man, though still a scientist working for a different iteration of Umbrella Pharmaceuticals. Here, he had a family: twin daughters, blood of his blood, code of his code, on whom he doted, though unbeknown to them, this version of him manipulated their substance and their existence, much as Lord Oswell Spencer had manipulated the version of their dear father who stood gazing at this spectacle.

In a third vane appeared the version he had glimpsed in dreams, in Sodder's nightmare, the version of him who had risen through the ranks of Umbrella, becoming CEO as the ranks thinned from the onslaught of the T-virus, a pathogen which acted by turns as it had in his world and as Progenitor had, as if it had taken the place of the pathogen which fused to his code.

The fourth and bottommost presents a shifting view of his world of origin. On the threshold appeared four pots containing green herb plants. "Well. A blessing emerges," he muses, pulling them toward himself. Something growls and a decaying figure shambles towards him. He steps back, unholstering the pistol under his coat. "And a curse emerges as well.

At another time, at some distance from the portal, several seemingly ordinary humanoids, some clad in homespun shirts and work pants, others in odd black hieratic-looing robes, may shuffle about, muttering Spanish phrases that don't sound very friendly... or which sound like eerie chants. But on closer inspection, the faces of the interlopers don't look right: they eyes rheumy and glassy and their faces chalky.

If one strays too close, however, the interlopers snarl, charging at the Sleeper who dared come near, shouting in their weirdly distorted voices and wielding whatever improvised weapons they can grab.

May

[subject_013]

[TBA - Please do not reply to this yet.]