Albert Wesker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
manufactured) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
recolle2017-10-04 09:13 pm
manufactured) wrote in recolle2017-10-04 09:13 pm
[OPEN] There is a dream inside a dream
WHO: Albert Wesker, whomever chooses to join him (presumably you!)
WHERE: Various
WHEN: Throughout October
WHAT: Nightmares and fog, featuring reunions with "friends."
WARNINGS: Violence, murder, child abuse, a basement full of corpses, medical experimentation, tentacles just goddamn everywhere, body horror, a veritable ball of leeches, other delightful things one would expect from the Resident Evil villain's memories? There is a blanket warning for "this is gonna suck" over this whole thing, though the child abuse warning is only relevant for those who pursue the Spencer prompt; the rest are clear of that sort of thing.
[NIGHTMARE – OSWELL E. SPENCER]
( cw: violence, murder, child abuse, a basement full of corpses )
[The mansion you find yourself in is large.
It seems like it used to be opulent once. You're standing in a foyer that held some sense of grandeur to it but now seems to have fallen into disrepair, and the long arching staircase greeting you dead-center is crumbling in several places. The massive chandelier which once hung above the center of the room seems to have crashed down at some point long ago, lying broken on the glossy marble floor, all shattered crystal and twisted metal and lengths of chain; it seems a bit of a visual nonsequitur – nothing overly important outside of the fact that there was a chandelier hanging in this room, and something sent it crashing down – but as you walk past it, you can see slight movememt beneath it out of the corner of your eye, something tense and slow and pained, almost as though there's something pinned down underneath it.
You probably don't want to know what's pinned down underneath it.
Watch your step as you're moving upstairs, though it does seem you want to move upstairs; you don't know why, seeing as everything is in disrepair and that includes the staircase itself and the exposed hallways leading in either direction off of it, but sometimes dreams are just like that. Aren't they? You move and you move and there's no real reason behind any of it – it's all a little nonsensical, a little surreal, and it seems this one isn't going to be any different.
A door down one of those hallways is lying slightly ajar; pressing on it will get it to swing open easily. However, if you reach out to do so, a voice can be heard from inside; it seems to belong to a man, though it's high-pitched and cracked and withered with age, but either way the words that are spoken seem to be aimed, somehow, at you.]
...You came back...
[Proceed?]
[NIGHTMARE – WILLIAM BIRKIN]
( cw: medical experimentation )
[It feels almost like it's the end of the world.
The place you're in is dark, all steel and concrete, with the oppressive air of something that's far underground; maybe a bunker, maybe a facility of some sort, definitely somewhere that you aren't supposed to be. The hallway you're in is long, dimly-lit with fluorescent lights that seem to flicker and dance in and out of existence despite how strong the walls in this place seem to be.
It's silent. And then, suddenly it's not.
The sound starts up quiet but soon builds immensely, a sharp wail, a moan, undercut with a chilling rasp that sounds almost like a death rattle. A series of loud banging noises that may or may not be restraints against a metal table. All of it emanates from somewhere just around a bend in the hallway, behind a door that's just out of sight from where you're standing but comes quickly into view if you move toward it.
Before you can open it, the sound starts up again, the screech, the keening noise, something that sounds undeniably like death; there are voices, too, beneath it, a pair of people speaking without paying any mind to the cacophony that surely must be happening near them.
If you listen long enough before opening the door, it sounds almost like whomever is making those ungodly sounds is screaming for their mother.]
[NIGHTMARE – EXCELLA GIONNE]
( cw: violence, some degree of body horror, tentacles just goddamn everywhere )
[The stars above are beautiful, constellations in full view; it's almost enough to make you disregard how very cold it is tonight. There's the soft sway of a ship's movement beneath your feet as it cuts through choppy seas, the metallic sound of a tanker's deck reverberating underneath your every step; despite the amount of work it must require to keep a massive ship like this running smoothly at sea, there don't seem to be any actual people on board – it seems that you're alone, and you're empty-handed, and the only indication of whom this ship might belong to is a logo that's present here and there on the metal walls you pass that ultimately doesn't seem to mean anything.
As you make your way to the bow of the ship, a voice sounds out – distorted, unrecognizable for all the static obscuring it as the ship's public-address system relays it through the night air; the words are difficult to make out, but you can surely hear a few.
"But it's too late for you...you won't live to see – "
"Sorry, Excella, but it seems – "
"...One last task for you."
"Farewell, old friend."
In the distance, a woman screams. And something massive seems to connect, then, hard enough to rock the ship, to dip it down hard from the center.
Perhaps you move forward to the bow of the ship to find the source of the screaming – after all, it sounds as though she's really suffering, wherever she is. Or perhaps you choose to stay put to see what happens; there's no sense in rushing into a dangerous situation. Or perhaps you do the reasonable-person thing and try to run from it all, because whatever just happened on deck is large enough to fuck with the boat and that probably isn't anything you want a part of.
Either way, it doesn't really matter; you're going to be intercepted by Wesker, grabbing your arm or...wherever's immediately available like an unreasonable person and pulling you in a different direction entirely, up a metal flight of stairs to a higher deck.]
We can't stay here.
[His words are sharp, rushed despite the fact that he doesn't seem to be doing much with his face; things are...not going well, clearly.]
[FOG – SERGEI VLADIMIR]
( cw: violence, body horror everywhere, a veritable ball of leeches )
[It probably isn't the wisest decision, being out late at night in the fog like this; just the same, at this point...well, this seems like a far better option than sleeping, given the dreams that have been plaguing Wesker's sleep.
This, incidentally, was a highly incorrect assumption.
If you're out tonight in any of the business districts – anyplace that the buildings tower high above, anyplace that has high walls and streets winding below them, you may find yourself grabbed and pulled over toward someone, your back pressed hard against one of those high walls, and when Wesker speaks from where he's got ahold of you his words seem calm enough but there's an undeniable sense of pressure behind them when he speaks.]
If you're armed, draw your weapon. And keep your gaze high. It's not safe here.
[...So that's something that's happening tonight.]
[ANYTHING ELSE?]
[Feel free to hit either my plotting comment or come find me at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
InstantEternity if you want to plot something out with me; I'm here for anything and everything, and if there's something specific that you want for the sake of either getting memory regains for you or just...going on an adventure, I'm willing to custom-tailor nightmares and experiences for you! Resident Evil runs a large and fairly messed-up gamut, so pretty much anything is fair game.]
WHERE: Various
WHEN: Throughout October
WHAT: Nightmares and fog, featuring reunions with "friends."
WARNINGS: Violence, murder, child abuse, a basement full of corpses, medical experimentation, tentacles just goddamn everywhere, body horror, a veritable ball of leeches, other delightful things one would expect from the Resident Evil villain's memories? There is a blanket warning for "this is gonna suck" over this whole thing, though the child abuse warning is only relevant for those who pursue the Spencer prompt; the rest are clear of that sort of thing.
[NIGHTMARE – OSWELL E. SPENCER]
( cw: violence, murder, child abuse, a basement full of corpses )
[The mansion you find yourself in is large.
It seems like it used to be opulent once. You're standing in a foyer that held some sense of grandeur to it but now seems to have fallen into disrepair, and the long arching staircase greeting you dead-center is crumbling in several places. The massive chandelier which once hung above the center of the room seems to have crashed down at some point long ago, lying broken on the glossy marble floor, all shattered crystal and twisted metal and lengths of chain; it seems a bit of a visual nonsequitur – nothing overly important outside of the fact that there was a chandelier hanging in this room, and something sent it crashing down – but as you walk past it, you can see slight movememt beneath it out of the corner of your eye, something tense and slow and pained, almost as though there's something pinned down underneath it.
You probably don't want to know what's pinned down underneath it.
Watch your step as you're moving upstairs, though it does seem you want to move upstairs; you don't know why, seeing as everything is in disrepair and that includes the staircase itself and the exposed hallways leading in either direction off of it, but sometimes dreams are just like that. Aren't they? You move and you move and there's no real reason behind any of it – it's all a little nonsensical, a little surreal, and it seems this one isn't going to be any different.
A door down one of those hallways is lying slightly ajar; pressing on it will get it to swing open easily. However, if you reach out to do so, a voice can be heard from inside; it seems to belong to a man, though it's high-pitched and cracked and withered with age, but either way the words that are spoken seem to be aimed, somehow, at you.]
...You came back...
[Proceed?]
[NIGHTMARE – WILLIAM BIRKIN]
( cw: medical experimentation )
[It feels almost like it's the end of the world.
The place you're in is dark, all steel and concrete, with the oppressive air of something that's far underground; maybe a bunker, maybe a facility of some sort, definitely somewhere that you aren't supposed to be. The hallway you're in is long, dimly-lit with fluorescent lights that seem to flicker and dance in and out of existence despite how strong the walls in this place seem to be.
It's silent. And then, suddenly it's not.
The sound starts up quiet but soon builds immensely, a sharp wail, a moan, undercut with a chilling rasp that sounds almost like a death rattle. A series of loud banging noises that may or may not be restraints against a metal table. All of it emanates from somewhere just around a bend in the hallway, behind a door that's just out of sight from where you're standing but comes quickly into view if you move toward it.
Before you can open it, the sound starts up again, the screech, the keening noise, something that sounds undeniably like death; there are voices, too, beneath it, a pair of people speaking without paying any mind to the cacophony that surely must be happening near them.
If you listen long enough before opening the door, it sounds almost like whomever is making those ungodly sounds is screaming for their mother.]
[NIGHTMARE – EXCELLA GIONNE]
( cw: violence, some degree of body horror, tentacles just goddamn everywhere )
[The stars above are beautiful, constellations in full view; it's almost enough to make you disregard how very cold it is tonight. There's the soft sway of a ship's movement beneath your feet as it cuts through choppy seas, the metallic sound of a tanker's deck reverberating underneath your every step; despite the amount of work it must require to keep a massive ship like this running smoothly at sea, there don't seem to be any actual people on board – it seems that you're alone, and you're empty-handed, and the only indication of whom this ship might belong to is a logo that's present here and there on the metal walls you pass that ultimately doesn't seem to mean anything.
As you make your way to the bow of the ship, a voice sounds out – distorted, unrecognizable for all the static obscuring it as the ship's public-address system relays it through the night air; the words are difficult to make out, but you can surely hear a few.
"But it's too late for you...you won't live to see – "
"Sorry, Excella, but it seems – "
"...One last task for you."
"Farewell, old friend."
In the distance, a woman screams. And something massive seems to connect, then, hard enough to rock the ship, to dip it down hard from the center.
Perhaps you move forward to the bow of the ship to find the source of the screaming – after all, it sounds as though she's really suffering, wherever she is. Or perhaps you choose to stay put to see what happens; there's no sense in rushing into a dangerous situation. Or perhaps you do the reasonable-person thing and try to run from it all, because whatever just happened on deck is large enough to fuck with the boat and that probably isn't anything you want a part of.
Either way, it doesn't really matter; you're going to be intercepted by Wesker, grabbing your arm or...wherever's immediately available like an unreasonable person and pulling you in a different direction entirely, up a metal flight of stairs to a higher deck.]
We can't stay here.
[His words are sharp, rushed despite the fact that he doesn't seem to be doing much with his face; things are...not going well, clearly.]
[FOG – SERGEI VLADIMIR]
( cw: violence, body horror everywhere, a veritable ball of leeches )
[It probably isn't the wisest decision, being out late at night in the fog like this; just the same, at this point...well, this seems like a far better option than sleeping, given the dreams that have been plaguing Wesker's sleep.
This, incidentally, was a highly incorrect assumption.
If you're out tonight in any of the business districts – anyplace that the buildings tower high above, anyplace that has high walls and streets winding below them, you may find yourself grabbed and pulled over toward someone, your back pressed hard against one of those high walls, and when Wesker speaks from where he's got ahold of you his words seem calm enough but there's an undeniable sense of pressure behind them when he speaks.]
If you're armed, draw your weapon. And keep your gaze high. It's not safe here.
[...So that's something that's happening tonight.]
[ANYTHING ELSE?]
[Feel free to hit either my plotting comment or come find me at
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[...And that is the reason for the rest of the things you won't like about this.]
I'll keep her attention up here; she's angry with me, after all, so the chances are higher that she won't go after you. If I go, she'll ensure I don't get to that room; if you do it it's more likely that we'll manage it.
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Will you promise me something? I know this probably sounds stupid since this is just a dream, but will you promise me that you'll try to stay alive?
[He doesn't think Wesker would intentionally get himself killed right now, but...]
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[There are a lot of things he could say to that, really - the most immediate one that he can identify is that if he were going to do something like that, he would have just gone himself and not explained anything. But somewhere in there it occurs to him vaguely that Jaeger is asking because he needs the reassurance, and yelling logic at him probably isn't going to help and will probably just sound like he's trying to rationalize everything away, and as such he bites it back for once in his miserable life.]
I promise - I'll keep fighting until you return, I swear to you.
[...]
You're looking for something reasonably small - think keys, probably something electronic based on the compartment - it's probably some sort of card key, if I had to guess.
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Ja, I understand. I'll be back as quickly as I can be, alright? Don't do anything too stupid without me!
[He still hates this idea, but risking death to try to find a way to stop this thing and maybe help Wesker sleep peacefully for once is worth it. So off he goes, headed back down the stairs toward that control room.]
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...You will also notice, partway down the stairs, a massive hole where one of those tentacles has punched through the hull. It isn't there now, but it's definitely a reminder of what this thing is capable of.
So. Back to the control room? You're going to be dealing with a lot of alarming loud noises along the way, but it doesn't seem like anything is explicitly trying to kill you just yet.]
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Alright, to the control room! The noises are definitely not a good sign and the control room's probably not doing too hot, but he's going to try to get in anyway. Did Excella do a lot of damage in here?]
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That said, good lord did she do a lot of damage - most of the consoles and controls seem to be down, damaged to the extent of being unusable; this is probably all due to the fact that, well, you're getting a really awesome view looking out over the ocean at night? Which probably wouldn't be happening due to the fact that there are no windows in here, but it looks like she's done you the courtesy of making one for you, like she did on the stairs.
Fun!
So there's a lot of nonfunctional stuff, and anything that was more or less freestanding - any tables or cabinets that were in here - have been shoved against the wall to your left. Your, uh, lovely ocean view is over to your right. Consoles (or what's left of them) are in front of you.]
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Alright, so he could stand here and worry more about how badly this thing could fuck him up, but he won't do that. He's going to start with the cabinets over on the left. If he can get into any of them, he'll be looking through for any key cards or anything of the sort. If he can't, he'll look to see if he can break his way in. As you do!]
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...They're less-specialized but there's, like, a fucking light machine gun in here. That's the sort of thing we're looking at.]
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Taking it with you?]
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That said, though, no, it won't explode, don't worry.]
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Alright, he'll take one last look around the room for anything
shiningout of the ordinary, but if there isn't anything else to find he'll grab the weapons and head back up.]no subject
Sounds like the hugeass thing up there is doing...something. God only knows what.]
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Is Wesker okay? That's his first priority. The monster can wait, as far as he's concerned.]
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So...not entirely okay, but definitely still alive at least.]
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Albert! I found something for you!
[Here, come take some of these weapons off him. He can shoot but his aim probably won't be as good as Wesker's. He'll try to handle the card key thing as soon as he's given his companion some more firepower.]
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Well. Hopefully you actually found what I sent you down there for, and didn't just get distracted by all the nice toys.
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[Don't answer that. He holds up the card key for confirmation after he's handed over the weaponry.]
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Go, then, see what we can get out of that.
[...In the meantime, he actually has no real idea how to shoot these things, but you know what if nothing else he can just try his level best to rain down as much bullet hell as possible and hope he hits something.]
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...
What the hell is this. It looks like what you'd get if you crossed a paintball gun with a very small bazooka.]
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