[OPEN] Prick your fingers, it is done, the moon has now eclipsed the sun

[manufactured]

WHO: Albert Wesker (eventually) and whomever decides to join him (presumably you!)
WHERE: Dreamscapes.
WHEN: Slightly backdated to 8/24.
WHAT: Dreamdiving.
WARNINGS: Medical experimentation, brainwashing, child abuse, violence, body horror, depictions of self-harm, a general blanket warning that Wesker has been through Some Shit and as such this is probably going to suck on several levels.

[It's cold.

It isn't the familiar drop in temperature that might come from the weather, but a sterile, artificial chill, the sort associated with medical work - hospitals and laboratories and other places that bring with them a sharp, chemical smell and an unpleasant sense that you don't really want to be there.

Of course, the metal table against your back probably isn't doing much to keep you warm, either.

Trying to sit up will be a bit of a problem, given the heavy restraints locked around your wrists and ankles, your hips and your upper body; they're a combination of metal and leather, old-fashioned and imposing, clearly designed to restrain something very, very powerful, and they're keeping you from going very far. You can look around enough to tell that where you are is...probably not somewhere you want to stay for long - it is, in fact, a laboratory of some sort, full of instruments and vials and jars of things that don't look very nice, the metal walls giving way somewhere just on the edges of your line of sight, turning into something else - a sort of open entrance to what looks like a cave of some sort. Either way, it'll probably take you somewhere that isn't here if you follow it. Tipping your head back will show another potential exit to the area - a metal door in the wall near all the instruments and materials.

Of course, you can't really utilize either route if you're bound down, now, can you? You should probably work on figuring out what you're going to do about that, first.]

Comments

[manufactured]

[...It is probably for the best to not knock his memories out, actually, yes.

That said, there doesn't seem to be any security in this area; the door itself opens into a long hallway, the corridor walls made of thick concrete reinforced with steel beams, the sort of thing one might expect from a fallout shelter. The floor seems to be made of heavy metal grating, the sort that's prone to rattling a little when one walks - though Elda's light enough that it likely won't; it's a straight shot down, nowhere to hide but nowhere for anyone else to hide either, and the place is lit up with recessed lighting embedded in the ceiling, flickering gently once in a while but generally dim-lit, nowhere near as bright as it could be. So it's probably not completely killing your eyes, thankfully.

The hallway seems to go for an inordinately long period of time, but eventually there are changes that are starkly noticeable - the grating in the floor gives way to a pathway made of packed dirt, the concrete of the walls roughens out into stone and soil, and the entire area becomes decidedly more cavelike and less industrial as you go. The lighting in the ceiling remains the same, however, though it's a bit more spaced-out; it's a little idiosyncratic, as is the appearance of a door at the end of the hallway, moored in the rock wall before you. It seems to be slightly ajar, it'll likely swing outward if you touch it; there doesn't seem to be sunlight on the other side, so it's safe in that regard.]

[manufactured]

[And once you've stepped through that door, you'll find yourself outside.

The salt air is refreshing after the stifling sterility of the lab, and from where you're standing you can see the entire deck of the large cargo ship; it's a tanker, massive and imposing, and from the look of it you're several floors up off the main deck. People are there, on the lower levels, weaving in and out between the cargo crates as they go about their business; some of them have dogs with them (though the dogs look emaciated and sick despite the way they're lunging at anything that moves) but most of them are on their own, doing their jobs without really seeing each other, just the blank movements of the hyperfixated, unmistakable and cold.]

There you are.

[The voice comes from behind you (didn't you just walk through that door? there was a lab there, but now there's- ), heavily-accented and belonging to a woman in a white dress that leaves very little to the imagination; she sounds like she came from somewhere on the Mediterranean, probably, and she's carrying a silver attaché case with her as she steps out onto the deck next to you.]

We've been wondering when you were going to join us; it's good to see you're already here.

[She sounds a little skeptical about how exactly that came to pass, but she doesn't seem truly bothered; it's something she'll shrug off, something she'll forget about eventually.]

[matchbreaker]

[ Elda's very light on her feet, it's true. She weighs very little and even besides that vampires seem to have some borderline supernatural silence to their footsteps, she's noticed? Or maybe it's just when he body changed her gait changed to to something she had perfected in another life. Even so, she does remain somewhat crouched, ready to spring somewhere else as she steps into the hall.

Still, the architecture of this was... strange? the one hallway here, the dim lighting...? She frowns a little as she continues, thankful he eyes don't need to adjust overly much. But it's once it shifts to stone she blinks a little here. She had suspected she might be underground, but to have it give way to a proper cave of some sort...>?

Weird.

But yeah, at a door here...? Well, she hadn't seen any other real places to look before now, so let's... tap this open. ]

[manufactured]

[The door opens easily.

Just beyond it lies something massive and circular in layout, not quite an altar but something that demands about as much reverence; it's made of tiered stone, nestled into the bottom of a large cavern arcing high up overhead - looking up, you can see stars through various holes in the roof of the cave.

The area is absolutely covered in flowers, all of them varying shades of red and pink, along with assorted other plants that are likely not recognizable; it's peaceful here, though. Quiet. There's the sound of running water flowing through here but it's gentle and distant - enough to keep the flowers growing somehow, most likely, but not as though there's any danger of the water overflowing or flooding somehow.]

[matchbreaker]

[ That's... not what she expected. Somehow, she expected something existentially horrifying just based on what she knew of Uroboros. Or whatever else? That said, she blinks once and then twice... and then walks closer to the altar thing.

... Do these flowers have a particular smell? ]

[manufactured]

[Well, for people who are really into botany, they're Asteraceae - so while they definitely look like they'd give you an absolute fuck-you to the face like lilies and orchids, they've actually got the same sort of light scent that you'd expect from chrysanthemums and daisies and certain kinds of asters.]

[matchbreaker]

[ Sweet then the smell isn't going to be that irritating on her nose! That's good. But interesting, as she steps up forward in here, looking around to see if there is anyone else, she sort of takes in the sight and smell of the flowers and the...

This is a big room. ]

[manufactured]

[It is.

And as you're taking in everything, it's likely evident that those holes in the ceiling - the ones letting you see the stars outside - are also pretty big. And if you're listening closely enough, you can probably hear the sound of something moving somewhere above you, near those openings - it's a scrabbling noise, the sort of thing that implies that something's moving but not getting too much purchase on the surface it's moving along, sort of like claws on rock.

Sort of like really, really big claws on rock.

Sort of like something massive's about to start trying to get in from outside.]

[matchbreaker]

[ . . . Oh?

She knows something is up around the time she makes it to the center of the alter-thing and ... that.

Sounds like something is coming.

...

She should move? She should move. She's going to pick up the pace and move a little out of the way here, though trying to find whatever is making the noise up there with her eyes. ]

[manufactured]

[Whatever it is, it seems aware that Elda is down there, and eventually a large shadow climbs through one of those large openings in the ceiling of the cave - it doesn't drop, it continues to skitter along the ceiling upside-down, giving up on finding proper purchase and just letting its claws sink heavy into the stone; whatever it is, it's thick-bodied and oddly long, a heavy tail following after the body proper, and when it tilts its head back as though to take in its surroundings it releases a sharp, primal screech.

A screech that is many, many times larger than Elda is used to, but it's likely familiar just the same. Oddly familiar? Closely familiar.

It'll likely be evident why when it twists, letting itself drop from the ceiling and unfurling massive wings from its back, beating them heavily in midair and regaining some sense of equilibrium. Again, the tail is thick and long, and it seems deeply wrong in a lot of ways; it's also got four wings instead of the usual two, likely to support something of its size - it's got to be at least fifteen feet long - but the face of the creature in the darkness and the general body shape of the torso is something Elda will recognize.

It's obviously been crossed with something else and it's probably got some sort of hideous virus going on, but what she's facing down seems to be, at least mostly, a massive bat.]

[frostythehitman]

[ James doesn't think about the door that's suddenly gone, or the building layout that makes no sense because of it. He doesn't think about what the cargo ship is for and what all the people down below are doing. It doesn't really matter anyway--they're doing their jobs, and he's doing his. It all makes perfect sense, and it almost feels...nice.

He turns to the woman as she speaks. ]

...Of course I'm here. I'm always ready to help out.

What's in the case?

[manufactured]

It's for Albert.

[She's got that dismissive sort of voice that implies she'd rather be talking to anyone but you; granted, it also implies that she talks like this to everybody, so that sort of begs the question of exactly whose company she'd actually like, here.

That said, she shrugs and starts off down the nearest walkway overlooking the deck, her heels clacking sharply against the tempered steel.]

We're preparing for deployment shortly; we're getting things in order so we can leave. After that, we'll be well underway for what we're going to do. Come on.

[frostythehitman]

[ For someone who needs him for deployment, she sure sounds short with him. He doesn't even know who Albert is, so he feels like asking the question was pointless entirely. But whatever, fine. Deployment is way more important. James follows after her. ]

And...what are we doing? Where are we going?

[ He feels like he's asking a lot of questions, but at the same time, shouldn't he be informed of what he's doing, so he can get it done as best he can? ]

[matchbreaker]

[ Well that's not at all what Elda expected to see when she walked in here. She had been following the movements of the thing on the ceiling while she stood here, but...

... The sound is what actually makes her gasp a little bit.

Whoa. That's- well. ]

Whoa, big guy...

[ Is she going to have to dodge this thing... ]

[thesettingsun]

[Shuji is less scared of darkness than he is of deep water, so that's fine. When he reaches light again, it takes a second for him to be able to actually see what's ahead of him.

Keep your head down, he thinks, and then does the opposite of that, hurrying towards the pair.]

Are they okay?

[manufactured]

[Upon coming closer, it's obvious that it's a pair of men there, both dressed in uniforms that appear to belong to a police or military unit; they both have insignia bearing the acronym S.T.A.R.S. across it.

The one on the ground is tall and dark-haired, and he appears to have taken a lot of trauma; he's incredibly roughed up physically, and there are a pair of large spreads of blood staining his uniform across the chest. As though he's been shot. He also doesn't seem to be breathing, or responding to anything the other man is trying to do.

The other man there is...well, he's doing his best, though he settles back as Shuji approaches, muttering a quiet "goddamn it" to himself as he does so. Shuji will definitely get his attention, though, and he seems to...try to get himself together and in reasonable-adult mode once he realizes someone's here that shouldn't be.]

Hey - it's probably not safe for you to just be wandering around here. You okay?

[thesettingsun]

I figured it wasn't. [Safe, that is.] But I'm alright so far. What happened?

[...Even if this isn't a 'real person', it's distressing to see a corpse.]

[manufactured]

...He was trying to warn me about something. Someone decided they didn't like that.

[thesettingsun]

I'm sorry.

[Both because of his comrade's death and because Shuji can't let this stop him from investigating.]

Have you seen anyone else around? I'm looking for someone - someone important to me, so I can't leave until I find him. Even if it's dangerous.

[manufactured]

[Well, that seems to get his attention, anyway.]

Who are you looking for?

[thesettingsun]

He's about six feet tall, blonde, wears sunglasses indoors for some reason?

[Wesker did this before he had any physical changes, he can't blame that on Retrospec.]

[manufactured]

...Sounds like Wesker. That's our commanding officer; we were looking for him, too.

[thesettingsun]

Then we should look together! Safety in numbers and all that.

[This will in no way backfire horribly.]

[manufactured]

Yeah. Sounds good.

[He'll get up, then; alas poor Enrico, your corpse is staying here.]

So how do you know him, anyway? He tends to keep to himself, always has.

[thesettingsun]

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.

[...Wesker would be friends with someone who can quote Shakespeare on demand.]

After you deal with the same crap long enough, you end up becoming friendly, if only so you can complain about it together.