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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[It sounds...odd, when he says it; sort of blank, though not nearly as bad as it was during the incident with Excella.]
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If you're going to change the world, it'll be because of your doing, not his. You don't need to listen to him.
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[Possibly, he supposes. That's always been his goal in Recolle, after all, albeit a lowkey one; as for his memories...
Well, he was certainly doing something, wasn't he.]
Regardless. I haven't listened to him for some time; occasionally, I'll hear him out, but ultimately I've found that he isn't needed anymore.
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I'm pleased to hear it! You're right, of course! Do you want to hear him out tonight or should we just leave him?
no subject
He never just leaves. Do you, Albert?
[And any tension that may have left Wesker comes flooding back at that; he freezes almost immediately, something that doesn't escape the old man's notice.]
He has every opportunity to leave, but does he? Of course not.
He knows his place. No matter how much he tries to argue or deny it... Albert was designed to do many things, but he wasn't created to have free will.
no subject
Come on. We don't need to stand here and listen to this.
[The words are serious, without a trace of his usual cheer.]
no subject
Because it's so much better if you do what he says, is it?
[Wesker flinches a bit at that; he pulls away from Jaeger - not overly abruptly, but forcefully enough to get the point across - and while it would seem that words aren't happening at the moment, he will move forward and grab the old man one-handed by the shoulder.
When he strikes him with his free hand the hit is hard, aimed low on the old man's chest, below the ribcage; his body simply seems to break, skin and muscle splitting as Wesker hits him, impaling his body straight through. The old man's eyes go wide, but there's something in his expression that seems almost satisfied as the blood pours from his body; he drops forward to lean against Wesker's body, and Wesker catches him despite himself - he doesn't move except to withdraw his hand from the old man's body, he just kind of stands there holding him for a moment, his expression strange and about as blank as his words earlier.
He'll let the man fall from his grasp eventually, allowing him to drop to the floor; he doesn't move, however, just...having gone incredibly still.]
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[what he meant, that's absolutely not how he wanted that to come across, but then Wesker's grabbed the old man's shoulder and suddenly there's blood and Jaeger's very aware that Wesker just killed someone.]
...Albert...
[He settles a little as he says the other man's name, glancing up at him for confirmation that he's okay for... anything really, but of course all he's seeing is that blank look. Is that better or worse than Albert being upset? He's not sure he wants to think about that.]
I'm sorry. That's... not how I meant that. At all.
[His eyes stray to the corpse for a moment before he focuses on Wesker again. He's not sure if he's in shock that Wesker just killed someone or if he really is okay with watching someone die, but his first priority right now is Wesker's well-being.]
no subject
But he does realize eventually, though he isn't really looking at anything in particular when he responds - not Jaeger, not the corpse, nothing.]
...I know what you meant.
[There's nothing behind it, but at least it's an answer.]
no subject
Good, I'm glad.
[Wesker's still not really... responding to anything that just happened, but maybe that's for the best. Still, Jaeger finds the words leaving his mouth before he can really think about them.]
Are you okay?
no subject
...I don't have much choice, do I?
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It's okay if you're not. You... You don't have to force it if you're not okay.
[He's not sure what would be worse - seeing Wesker genuinely upset or finding out that Wesker really is just fine after that.]
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The silence lasts too long to be comfortable for him, but he's just not sure what to say to break it.]
...I don't think it's a good idea to stay here.
[It's something, anyway. It's not good enough and that's frustrating, but it's a place to start.]
Do you want to stay?
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No.]
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[He turns to leave back the way he came before pausing, then offering a hand to Wesker. He doesn't try to reach out to grab this time.]
no subject
Let's go.]
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Make him move, get him away from whatever is causing it. That much is good, at any rate.]
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Anyway, once they reach the door he'll try to get it open.]
Do you know what's out here? I arrived inside here, so I didn't see anything outside.
[He's not really expecting an answer, but it's probably good to talk anyway. Well, that and he's never been good at shutting up.]
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(In hindsight, that's probably why it's locked.)]
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Let's see if we can find another way out of here, ja? There's probably a back door somewhere!
[It'll probably be locked too, but moving is good, right? It'll give Wesker something else to focus on, anyway.]
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...You don't have to do this. I'm... I'll be fine.
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I know you will be. But like I said, it's okay if you aren't right now. That... was a lot, wasn't it?
[He doesn't need the confirmation, it was definitely a lot.]
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[...]
I don't have this dream often... It isn't like what happened with Excella.
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