[The research facility had sounded like a terrible idea, as far as Wesker is concerned, given the entire incident in the hospital last month. He doesn't know what lies ahead, but for the time being, he's willing to turn his attention toward the mountains.
Getting up to the factory hadn't been impossible, not with the enhancements helping him as much as possible – he isn't going to hold back or restrain himself, he just wants to get this done and over with; the corpses outside had been noticeable but if he's going to be blunt, he has neither the time nor mind to care about them. Whatever happened here was terrible, he'd probably prefer that it not happen while he's here, but in the end it's no different than that cave in Africa that he'd found with Excella; back then there were gemstones glittering in the walls and human remains littering the ground and no emotions in his chest, and he's perfectly content to let himself slide back into that, the cold unfeeling nothingness that keeps him from getting killed on the best of days.
He can be found pacing outside the factory for a while, long coat sweeping in his wake like he's some kind of goddamn reaper, and occasionally he can be found in the snow near the bodies; his movements are tight and methodical and don't seem to be concerned with respect for the dead – he's finding what he can and relieving them of anything useful. Rope is coming with him, for one thing, and he'll take a couple of the smaller ice axes off of them as well and slot them into his belt for the time being, just beneath his coat.
It's going to be a long day; he can tell already. There's no sense in wasting sentiments on the dead when there's work to be done.]
[III-B.]
[He's been here too long.
It isn't something he's going to admit, it's something that he's just going to deal with because that's what he does, he deals with things because he doesn't have a choice, but the fact of the matter is that he's been here too long and the soft, perpetual grinding of the machines further off in the building somewhere is irritating him and the longer he paces the halls, the more agitated he gets.
The meaning of those glyphs comes out in bursts, and he can't get them out of his head. Those that came down to claim the world, to create –
a new superior breed of humans, given birth by the Progenitor virus
– to create something better, something new and with endless potential and –
entrusted with endless potential; only one of them survived
– and this is the second goddamn time he's seen entirely too much that reminds him of Spencer, that makes it clear that killing him once wasn't good enough and if he has his way he doesn't care about fairness or how many people want him dead, he's going to kill Vanderweele the second he gets the opportunity because maybe then the fucking memories will shut up-
It isn't so much paranoia gripping him at the moment as it is anger, the fear being immediately channeled into adrenaline, into rage; there's a weird, unnatural orange glow behind the lenses of those dark glasses he always wears (yes, even here), and he doesn't seem calm but he does seem weirdly still. Composed, but it's not natural; the sort of frozen-over lack of care that comes with being so goddamn pissed off it circles right back around again.]
...Come on. Once we find whatever's making all that noise, I imagine it'll be clear what we're supposed to do with it.
[His words are likewise cold, but that's just going to be how things are today, it seems.]
no subject
[The research facility had sounded like a terrible idea, as far as Wesker is concerned, given the entire incident in the hospital last month. He doesn't know what lies ahead, but for the time being, he's willing to turn his attention toward the mountains.
Getting up to the factory hadn't been impossible, not with the enhancements helping him as much as possible – he isn't going to hold back or restrain himself, he just wants to get this done and over with; the corpses outside had been noticeable but if he's going to be blunt, he has neither the time nor mind to care about them. Whatever happened here was terrible, he'd probably prefer that it not happen while he's here, but in the end it's no different than that cave in Africa that he'd found with Excella; back then there were gemstones glittering in the walls and human remains littering the ground and no emotions in his chest, and he's perfectly content to let himself slide back into that, the cold unfeeling nothingness that keeps him from getting killed on the best of days.
He can be found pacing outside the factory for a while, long coat sweeping in his wake like he's some kind of goddamn reaper, and occasionally he can be found in the snow near the bodies; his movements are tight and methodical and don't seem to be concerned with respect for the dead – he's finding what he can and relieving them of anything useful. Rope is coming with him, for one thing, and he'll take a couple of the smaller ice axes off of them as well and slot them into his belt for the time being, just beneath his coat.
It's going to be a long day; he can tell already. There's no sense in wasting sentiments on the dead when there's work to be done.]
[III-B.]
[He's been here too long.
It isn't something he's going to admit, it's something that he's just going to deal with because that's what he does, he deals with things because he doesn't have a choice, but the fact of the matter is that he's been here too long and the soft, perpetual grinding of the machines further off in the building somewhere is irritating him and the longer he paces the halls, the more agitated he gets.
The meaning of those glyphs comes out in bursts, and he can't get them out of his head. Those that came down to claim the world, to create –
a new superior breed of humans, given birth by the Progenitor virus
– to create something better, something new and with endless potential and –
entrusted with endless potential; only one of them survived
– and this is the second goddamn time he's seen entirely too much that reminds him of Spencer, that makes it clear that killing him once wasn't good enough and if he has his way he doesn't care about fairness or how many people want him dead, he's going to kill Vanderweele the second he gets the opportunity because maybe then the fucking memories will shut up-
It isn't so much paranoia gripping him at the moment as it is anger, the fear being immediately channeled into adrenaline, into rage; there's a weird, unnatural orange glow behind the lenses of those dark glasses he always wears (yes, even here), and he doesn't seem calm but he does seem weirdly still. Composed, but it's not natural; the sort of frozen-over lack of care that comes with being so goddamn pissed off it circles right back around again.]
...Come on. Once we find whatever's making all that noise, I imagine it'll be clear what we're supposed to do with it.
[His words are likewise cold, but that's just going to be how things are today, it seems.]