Carla Radames

'Nice to see the cavalry's here' Carla Radames rp blog!

[a-cheap-knockoff]

INTERVIEW WITH CARLA RADAMES POST TALL OAKS-LANSHIANG INCIDENT

State your name for the record please.

'Uh, Carla Radames, sir.'

And you consent to this interview being recorded?

'Yes, sir.'

You recently awoke from a coma, how are you feeling?

'Everything feels...foggy, like I'm an observer in my own body.'

That's normal, how much can you remember?

'I'm not sure what happened, it feels like I've been living a nightmare for years now, everything is blended together in fragmented memories.

I remember...being fifteen, I got my doctorate. Derek Simmons wanted to hire me, he had some sort of secret project he said I'd be perfect for and...

I'm sorry, I don't remember much else. Everything is really...I can't distinguish anything.'

That's alright, we'll keep an eye on you for now.

END OF RECORDING.

GENERAL INTRO HERE:

Post by @miss-ashcroft · 1 image

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 6 · Finally making an intro post :3 Hi, you can call me Bug! I'm an adult and while I can't control what people do on the inte

[a-cheap-knockoff]

"What I wouldn't give for a handful of pistachios." @parasiticoyle

"Hah, I never really liked them, you'd probably have a better chance getting some from my old boss- if you can find him, that is."

[parasiticoyle]

"And who is your old boss honey? Damn whitecoats been keeping the good stuff away from me... say I need to listen... but thing is... creatures like me, we don like to listen."

@a-cheap-knockoff

[a-cheap-knockoff]

"You sound like he'd hate you, ironically enough- the man was all about order, safety, keeping things exactly how he wanted them, didn't allow for much deviation.

His name was Derek Simmons, and he was a bastard of a man, too obsessed with having things his way to the point it fucked over everyone around him. Last I heard, he was killed. But men like that always find a way, and if a body was never recovered then..."

[parasiticoyle]

"All of em hate me cause they wanna be me. But there gotta be laws around em place. Otherwise world going down full of chaos in a hand basket.

Sounds like a guy who could use a good bennie. Nah, I am stuck with some brand called Connections. Keeping me leashed like a goddamn dog. But you're right honey. They ain't dead until a body is found and preferable fried. Ya wanna see real evil shit? Check the cellar of a filthy rich person."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

"Oh, trust me, I was in the cellar of a filthy rich person. Fucker had me working for him since I was fifteen- had me think I was doing good, furthering science- then replaced my body with the woman he was obsessed with, no wonder she left him, fucking...

As long as he stays out of my life, I suppose I can't be too upset, it did nearly kill me, after all.

The Connections? I seem to recall him having some contact with your group, they're sort of a more underground continuation of Umbrella, right?"

[a-cheap-knockoff]

"What I wouldn't give for a handful of pistachios." @parasiticoyle

"Hah, I never really liked them, you'd probably have a better chance getting some from my old boss- if you can find him, that is."

[parasiticoyle]

"And who is your old boss honey? Damn whitecoats been keeping the good stuff away from me... say I need to listen... but thing is... creatures like me, we don like to listen."

@a-cheap-knockoff

[a-cheap-knockoff]

"You sound like he'd hate you, ironically enough- the man was all about order, safety, keeping things exactly how he wanted them, didn't allow for much deviation.

His name was Derek Simmons, and he was a bastard of a man, too obsessed with having things his way to the point it fucked over everyone around him. Last I heard, he was killed. But men like that always find a way, and if a body was never recovered then..."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

"What I wouldn't give for a handful of pistachios." @parasiticoyle

"Hah, I never really liked them, you'd probably have a better chance getting some from my old boss- if you can find him, that is."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

🧪 Am I the only person you remember from... before... that you contacted?

~ @helena-harper-official who's totally not hoping she's the only one carla remembers

(Tumblr give me a notification challenge what the fuck)

You're the one that sticks out the most, yes.

I can somewhat remember Miss Wong, but that's likely because I was wearing her face...

I can't put a name to the soldiers that I remember, and I think I remembered the man you were working with...Leon? I think it was?

Not sure why you stick out so much. Maybe it was something subconscious, recognised someoem else Si- he fucked over.

[helena-harper-official]

As much as it hurts to hear the way Helena speaks to her, she doesn't exactly have room to be upset about it- Carla ruined her life, the least she can do is sit there and take it. Honestly, she wouldn't have blamed the woman at all if she killed her right then and there. "It's...Good that you're still going, at least. That's all we really can do, isn't it?" She blinks, staring in surprise at the comment about her hair. "I'd agree with you but...truthfully, I can't remember much from that time. I know I wore someone else's face- was trained into Simmons image of her. But the details are...fuzzy." Carla fidgets in her seat, worrying a loose thread between her fingers. "I wish I knew why I wanted to talk with you, its more of just...I feel like there's a lot unsaid, a lot I need to answer for. But it's just- it's hard to do that when I don't know what I did, not entirely." Her gaze darts between Helena and the table between them. "For what it's worth I...I'm really sorry about what happened, what I did. I know enough to understand that it was...bad."

@a-cheap-knockoff

Helena can almost see a recoil in Carla's reaction. And yet, she didn't enjoy it the way she thought she would. It felt more akin to the times she'd raised her voice with Deborah when she was trying her sister's patience. Times that Helena would give anything to get back.

But those times were gone, sentenced to live on forever only in memory.

"I suppose so, yeah."

She lets the silence stretch as Carla speaks. Which was perhaps a bad thing to do, as what she says next practically floors Helena. She didn't remember. Carla didn't remember a damn thing of what she'd done, what she'd enabled to happen. Didn't remember the manipulations of Simmons, of doing his dirty work. She knew, Carla had admitted that much.

But knowing and actually remembering were two different things.

"Sorry? You..." Helena cut herself off, looking out the window, at the people passing by. When she snaps her head back to Carla, her eyes are filled with venom. "You asked me to come here, forcing me to re-live the hell of losing my sister just by being in the same room... And you don't fucking remember any of it? You don't remember helping Simmons, doing his bidding with a damn smile on your face? You don't..."

She stops there, as a tear escapes. She wipes it away roughly, looking away again. "I am not your absolution, Carla."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

"I'm not..."

Not, what? Seeking absolution, exactly like Helena says? Hoping to squash the guilt that's been a heavy presence in her chest since she woke up?

She sighs and fidgets, fingers toying with the medical wristband she wears- she hates it, but it's also a firm reminder of her circumstances, in a way that angers her and breaks he heart all the same.

She wants desperately to tell Helena what she does know, the brief months she can remember when Simmons brought her on board, the flashes of nightmares she has of him, the way she still doesn't even really know herself because he took that from her.

But that'd be selfish, besides, it's not Helenas fault, it's not something she needs to know.

"I guess I am looking for absolution. Resolvement, something to...to quell my guilt. But you're right, I shouldn't be asking that of you, I can't..."

She inhales a shaky breath, eyes screwed shut as she collects herself.

"I really am sorry." She starts, voice cracking.

"I want to...I want to make things right, but I don't know how."

[helena-harper-official]

Helena doesn't speak, doesn't turn her head. Probably would've stopped blinking if she could. Her entire being felt raw and exposed, her very soul hollowed out and put on display for the world to see. But there's also a clarity, there.

A subtle movement catches the corner of her eye, and she finally looks at Carla. Looks closely, at the shadow she had become. Helena could understand it, in a way. The unique hell of Simmons, the scar that had been left. Carla had not only been reshaped physically, but she'd been reshaped in her very soul by a monster masquerading as a human.

It wasn't enough to abate her anger, but it did shift it somewhat. Anger at a ghost.

"Please, stop apologizing." She's surprised by the softness of her tone. "I don't want them, not now. Maybe not ever, I don't know. Just, answer me one question..."

Helena takes a moment to steel herself, to occupy her hands in case the answer was one that she didn't like.

"Did you know about Simmons injecting Deborah with the C-virus?"

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She wishes she could be taken aback by the question, wishes she didn't expect it ever since she decided to reach out.

She wishes she had a satisfying answer for Helena.

"Probably. They're- they're still being...cagey, about telling me the details, something about not wanting to confuse me if my memories come back."

Carla sighs, bouncing her leg under the table.

"I was...the head of the project, apparently. The way I've heard it I- it sounds like I was given free reign, probably didn't face much pushback so...I guess the answer is probably yes."

Inhaling shakily, she runs a hand through her hair, choosing to stare out the window instead of facing Helena head on.

"He was vindictive, I know that much- the whole project was because he couldn't take rejection so...so maybe it was him that gave the order, not me. But I still went along with it, didn't I? Even if he gave the order, I'm still the one that..."

God, it makes her sick to her stomach just thinking about it. How many people did she test her work on? How many people did she order to be taken from their families, just like Deborah?

How many people has she forgotten? She doesn't even know their names, barely remembers their faces until they show up to torment her in her sleep.

"I don't know, I just- I don't know. I don't know anything for sure. A-and I know that's not what you want to hear, but it's the truth." She admits, honestly growing more angry with herself than anything.

How could she just forget? Was she really so callous? Why was she capable of so much horror, but now feels like she's about to lose her lunch just thinking about her actions?

[sugar-and-spice-roleplay-memes]

Send 🧪 for my muse to take a truth serum and have to answer any question honestly from your muse.

Specify for multi muse blogs.

[helena-harper-official]

As much as it hurts to hear the way Helena speaks to her, she doesn't exactly have room to be upset about it- Carla ruined her life, the least she can do is sit there and take it. Honestly, she wouldn't have blamed the woman at all if she killed her right then and there. "It's...Good that you're still going, at least. That's all we really can do, isn't it?" She blinks, staring in surprise at the comment about her hair. "I'd agree with you but...truthfully, I can't remember much from that time. I know I wore someone else's face- was trained into Simmons image of her. But the details are...fuzzy." Carla fidgets in her seat, worrying a loose thread between her fingers. "I wish I knew why I wanted to talk with you, its more of just...I feel like there's a lot unsaid, a lot I need to answer for. But it's just- it's hard to do that when I don't know what I did, not entirely." Her gaze darts between Helena and the table between them. "For what it's worth I...I'm really sorry about what happened, what I did. I know enough to understand that it was...bad."

@a-cheap-knockoff

Helena can almost see a recoil in Carla's reaction. And yet, she didn't enjoy it the way she thought she would. It felt more akin to the times she'd raised her voice with Deborah when she was trying her sister's patience. Times that Helena would give anything to get back.

But those times were gone, sentenced to live on forever only in memory.

"I suppose so, yeah."

She lets the silence stretch as Carla speaks. Which was perhaps a bad thing to do, as what she says next practically floors Helena. She didn't remember. Carla didn't remember a damn thing of what she'd done, what she'd enabled to happen. Didn't remember the manipulations of Simmons, of doing his dirty work. She knew, Carla had admitted that much.

But knowing and actually remembering were two different things.

"Sorry? You..." Helena cut herself off, looking out the window, at the people passing by. When she snaps her head back to Carla, her eyes are filled with venom. "You asked me to come here, forcing me to re-live the hell of losing my sister just by being in the same room... And you don't fucking remember any of it? You don't remember helping Simmons, doing his bidding with a damn smile on your face? You don't..."

She stops there, as a tear escapes. She wipes it away roughly, looking away again. "I am not your absolution, Carla."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

"I'm not..."

Not, what? Seeking absolution, exactly like Helena says? Hoping to squash the guilt that's been a heavy presence in her chest since she woke up?

She sighs and fidgets, fingers toying with the medical wristband she wears- she hates it, but it's also a firm reminder of her circumstances, in a way that angers her and breaks he heart all the same.

She wants desperately to tell Helena what she does know, the brief months she can remember when Simmons brought her on board, the flashes of nightmares she has of him, the way she still doesn't even really know herself because he took that from her.

But that'd be selfish, besides, it's not Helenas fault, it's not something she needs to know.

"I guess I am looking for absolution. Resolvement, something to...to quell my guilt. But you're right, I shouldn't be asking that of you, I can't..."

She inhales a shaky breath, eyes screwed shut as she collects herself.

"I really am sorry." She starts, voice cracking.

"I want to...I want to make things right, but I don't know how."

[helena-harper-official]

Stares at you with my big autistic eyes.

- @a-cheap-knockoff , who's still waiting at the deli 💔 (I'm just teasing lol)

OOC: lsn linda, i'm getting there. words are hard, mmkay?

[fractured-feathers]

"Tch, just great." Niel grumbles as he does his best to keep balanced along some old warehouse rooftops. The rain pouring down isn't doing him any favors as he skids along the metal surface, the rubber of his soles only able to grip on so much. Leave it to the damn B.O.W to be in the industrial area. He supposes it makes sense, but it's totally throwing off his game. He runs to try and gain speed, leaping to the next building with a grunt, pausing when he sees a figure near the ground below. Someone shouldn't be here...

[a-cheap-knockoff]

What's she doing here? Investigating. Investigating what? Her past, she guesses.

Carla's memories still resemble a scrambled jigsaw puzzle found in the attic that's missing a few pieces, but what she does remember is that she worked on something relating to B.O.Ws.

She also remembers how to intercept radio chatter- where she learned it, she has no idea. But when she heard about a rumored B.O.W around an industrial warehouse, she figured at the very least that it might help to jog her memory.

The researchers looking over her certainly aren't helping, so she may as well take matters into her own hands.

She doesn't actually...have any weapons. She's here to investigate, not fight. So she stays low and under cover, black poncho blending in with the darkness of the night.

[fractured-feathers]

Niel tenses at the unfamiliar sight, taking on a more cautious stance as he approaches Carla. His fingers flex near his hips where he keeps his combat knives out of habit, but he makes no sudden moves. His main priority is still the B.O.W but now there's a new factor involved. Is this stranger a civilian or someone else out after his quarry? Cyan eyes glow from under his fringe of bangs in the low light as he inches closer. The sight is almost unnatural. When he gets close enough, he clears his throat and adjusts his poncho, trying to see how the new face will react. The perks of being a bioweapon himself. His nightvision makes her easy to spot. "Not wise to be around this area so late. There's worse things than boogeymen here."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She squints to make out the details of the figure, meeting their eyes as the light reflects off them.

"I know perfectly well what's out here- or at least an approximation."

That's a lie, she has no idea. She remembees studying the Raccoon City Incident and the Umbrella Trials during her university days, but that's where her B.O.W knowledge ends.

"What are you doing here? You look dressed to kill. Hunting monsters, are we?" She comments, noting how the rain clings to the weaponry under his poncho, reflecting enough light for her to see the vague outline of it.

[fractured-feathers]

That catches his attention, eyes sharpening as he peers a bit more firmly at Carla. He wipes some rain from his face and utters a low but tired huff. "Yeah, well that's not exactly common knowledge. Most people who do know would stay away for their own safety." He leans on a rusted wall and sighs. "You're either brave or downright foolish. Where are your weapons?" He pauses as she asks him why he's even in such a place before sighing, the glint of fangs visible as he does. "Why? I have a bone to pick and some bioweapons to be rid of before they end up harming someone else." His hands tap against the knives clipped to his belt, wings etched in silver along the dark charcoal grey surface. "Don't tell me you're after the B.O.W around here too?"

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She crosses her arms defensively, head tilted.

"Wouldn't you like to know." She answers, looking around the area. "I'm just here to watch, not interested in fighting these things."

She does feel a little silly for not bringing anything, but just getting here was difficult enough if she's being honest.

Her mind lingers on the fangs, huffing a small laugh. "Not exactly human yourself, huh? Know how that feels..."

She shakes the thought from her mind- just because she's starved for normal conversation does not mean this is the time to be telling her life story.

"Anyway just- you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours, yeah?"

[fractured-feathers]

"You...You're here to watch?" He looks at her incredulously and furrows his brow, slowly letting out an exhale. At her comment on his humanity, Niel's eyes narrow, turning cold as he crosses his arms across his chest. "Yeah well, that was taken from me a long time ago. Real great time." He listens and raises a brow. "You say you know? What, Umbrella play games with you too?" Bitterness seeps out of his tone as he practically hisses behind his teeth. At the suggestion of going his own way, Niel sighs and slowly relaxes his posture. "You're expecting me to wander off when I know you're here without a weapon and there's a potential threat in the area? What exactly do you take me for miss?" He gnaws at his lip and shakes his head. "Suit yourself."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She gives a smirk that crinkles at her eyes, leaning in closer to the stranger.

"You wouldn't know my evil organisation, they go to a different school." She quips, squaring her shoulders as she stands back, shifting her weight to one leg.

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. But if you're really worried, how about I borrow one of those fancy knives you've got?"

[fractured-feathers]

Niel scoffs and backs up just a little, not liking how close the other is getting. Sharp cyan hues stare before he gives a flat look. "Oh I'm sure not. There's so many of the damned things nowadays. Not like I trust a single one of them." He keeps his posture tense, always shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "Yeah yeah...I'm sure you are." At the suggestion of giving up one of his knives, he blinks and shakes his head. "You can have one of my extras. Eros and Icarus stay with me." He reaches for a small pack attached to his harness and presents a sturdy looking utility knife.

[a-cheap-knockoff]

"A good thing you learned that early, wish I could say the same." She hums, gratefully accepting the blade.

"Interesting names, there a meaning behind them?" She asks, inspecting the knife she's been given. "For the weapons, I mean. I know the myths, but I'm curious about why you've chosen them as namesakes for your blades."

[helena-harper-official]

Miss Harper...I remember you, somewhat.

It's...its been a while, hasn't it? I'd...I'd like to meet with you, if that's okay? To discuss what's happened, what I've done.

- Carla Radames ( @a-cheap-knockoff )

Helena could only stare at the message, anger springing to the surface with a fierce intensity. It had been years since the events of Tall Oaks and Lanshiang, but that anger never really dissolved. She wanted to rip the message to shreds, erase all evidence of it, and pretend it never reached her. But there was another feeling below the anger, one that demanded to also be heard. Obligation, perhaps? A gentler part of her, the last remnants of all the good that had been in her before Deborah's death.

She sends out one message, a few days after Carla reached out: I am willing to meet with you, somewhere public. If I don't like what I hear, I'm leaving and want you to never contact me again.

[a-cheap-knockoff]

Rest assured, Miss Harper, I simply want to talk. I'm afraid I'll have to set the time and date, though. It's hard for me to get out these days, hope you don't mind. There's a deli in Wrenwood, near the hotel- been there for years, so hopefully it's still there. I'll be waiting at noon. See you then.

-Carla Radames

-

It's only when she's sitting by the window that Carla realises she doesn't actually know if Helena knows what she looks like. From what she understands, Carla looked exactly like Ada Wong when last they met.

Hopefully the fact Helena is a highly-trained agent means she'll notice Carla looking for her, otherwise this may get awkward...

[helena-harper-official]

Wrenwood... another stereotypical small town like Tall Oaks had been. It was almost fitting, the meeting place being there. The brunette kept her guard up as she walked into the deli, even if she projected a cool demeanor aided by her slight resting bitch face. She's quick to spot the blond, having done some research into what Carla looked like before Simmons. It was somehow comforting, to not have to look at a carbon copy of Ada Wong.

And yet, she couldn't get her feet to move any further than where she stood in the lobby. She only barely made herself move to keep out of the doorway. "... Carla?"

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She locks eyes with Helena from across the deli, sitting up in her seat as she sighs with relief that she actually came.

"Miss Harper, I'm glad you made it, I wasn't sure if..." if you'd want to see me after all this time.

The words go unspoken as she offers a small smile, gesturing to the seat opposite to her.

Carla fidgets, wringing her hands before setting them on the table.

"I...I understand this all may be sudden- I really am grateful for you coming out to meet me, I know this can't be easy."

She opens and closes her mouth, trying to find what to say- what do you say in such a situation?

"How...how have you been? I hope you've been holding up well since, y'know."

It's not like Carla knows, what with her memory being more like a fishnet these days.

"I can't imagine how it's been for you."

Hopefully better than it's been for me, at least.

[helena-harper-official]

Helena is stiff as she sits across from Carla. She shouldn't be, it's not like she's there unwillingly. But there's a feeling there, dancing around in her chest, a live wire shooting sparks. "Please, call me Helena."

Miss Harper was my sister, and she's dead because of you. The words tease the tip of Helena's tongue. But she swallows them back, as the corners of her lips turn down.

"No, it's not." There's a venom in her words, one that she didn't intend.

She tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and took slow, deep breaths. She had to remember that she was not the only victim of Simmons, even if Carla's circumstances were different.

"I've... been a lot better, really. I'm with the DSO now. Being in the Secret Service was just... too much. Too tainted. I did private security work for a bit, but with my luck, I would have been guarding the next nutjob to try and destroy the world."

She lowers her head, really looking at Carla now. "You look better blonde. Must feel nice to have your real face back."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

As much as it hurts to hear the way Helena speaks to her, she doesn't exactly have room to be upset about it- Carla ruined her life, the least she can do is sit there and take it. Honestly, she wouldn't have blamed the woman at all if she killed her right then and there.

"It's...Good that you're still going, at least. That's all we really can do, isn't it?"

She blinks, staring in surprise at the comment about her hair.

"I'd agree with you but...truthfully, I can't remember much from that time. I know I wore someone else's face- was trained into Simmons image of her. But the details are...fuzzy."

Carla fidgets in her seat, worrying a loose thread between her fingers.

"I wish I knew why I wanted to talk with you, its more of just...I feel like there's a lot unsaid, a lot I need to answer for. But it's just- it's hard to do that when I don't know what I did, not entirely."

Her gaze darts between Helena and the table between them.

"For what it's worth I...I'm really sorry about what happened, what I did. I know enough to understand that it was...bad."

[fractured-feathers]

"Tch, just great." Niel grumbles as he does his best to keep balanced along some old warehouse rooftops. The rain pouring down isn't doing him any favors as he skids along the metal surface, the rubber of his soles only able to grip on so much. Leave it to the damn B.O.W to be in the industrial area. He supposes it makes sense, but it's totally throwing off his game. He runs to try and gain speed, leaping to the next building with a grunt, pausing when he sees a figure near the ground below. Someone shouldn't be here...

[a-cheap-knockoff]

What's she doing here? Investigating. Investigating what? Her past, she guesses.

Carla's memories still resemble a scrambled jigsaw puzzle found in the attic that's missing a few pieces, but what she does remember is that she worked on something relating to B.O.Ws.

She also remembers how to intercept radio chatter- where she learned it, she has no idea. But when she heard about a rumored B.O.W around an industrial warehouse, she figured at the very least that it might help to jog her memory.

The researchers looking over her certainly aren't helping, so she may as well take matters into her own hands.

She doesn't actually...have any weapons. She's here to investigate, not fight. So she stays low and under cover, black poncho blending in with the darkness of the night.

[fractured-feathers]

Niel tenses at the unfamiliar sight, taking on a more cautious stance as he approaches Carla. His fingers flex near his hips where he keeps his combat knives out of habit, but he makes no sudden moves. His main priority is still the B.O.W but now there's a new factor involved. Is this stranger a civilian or someone else out after his quarry? Cyan eyes glow from under his fringe of bangs in the low light as he inches closer. The sight is almost unnatural. When he gets close enough, he clears his throat and adjusts his poncho, trying to see how the new face will react. The perks of being a bioweapon himself. His nightvision makes her easy to spot. "Not wise to be around this area so late. There's worse things than boogeymen here."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She squints to make out the details of the figure, meeting their eyes as the light reflects off them.

"I know perfectly well what's out here- or at least an approximation."

That's a lie, she has no idea. She remembees studying the Raccoon City Incident and the Umbrella Trials during her university days, but that's where her B.O.W knowledge ends.

"What are you doing here? You look dressed to kill. Hunting monsters, are we?" She comments, noting how the rain clings to the weaponry under his poncho, reflecting enough light for her to see the vague outline of it.

[fractured-feathers]

That catches his attention, eyes sharpening as he peers a bit more firmly at Carla. He wipes some rain from his face and utters a low but tired huff. "Yeah, well that's not exactly common knowledge. Most people who do know would stay away for their own safety." He leans on a rusted wall and sighs. "You're either brave or downright foolish. Where are your weapons?" He pauses as she asks him why he's even in such a place before sighing, the glint of fangs visible as he does. "Why? I have a bone to pick and some bioweapons to be rid of before they end up harming someone else." His hands tap against the knives clipped to his belt, wings etched in silver along the dark charcoal grey surface. "Don't tell me you're after the B.O.W around here too?"

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She crosses her arms defensively, head tilted.

"Wouldn't you like to know." She answers, looking around the area. "I'm just here to watch, not interested in fighting these things."

She does feel a little silly for not bringing anything, but just getting here was difficult enough if she's being honest.

Her mind lingers on the fangs, huffing a small laugh. "Not exactly human yourself, huh? Know how that feels..."

She shakes the thought from her mind- just because she's starved for normal conversation does not mean this is the time to be telling her life story.

"Anyway just- you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours, yeah?"

[fractured-feathers]

"You...You're here to watch?" He looks at her incredulously and furrows his brow, slowly letting out an exhale. At her comment on his humanity, Niel's eyes narrow, turning cold as he crosses his arms across his chest. "Yeah well, that was taken from me a long time ago. Real great time." He listens and raises a brow. "You say you know? What, Umbrella play games with you too?" Bitterness seeps out of his tone as he practically hisses behind his teeth. At the suggestion of going his own way, Niel sighs and slowly relaxes his posture. "You're expecting me to wander off when I know you're here without a weapon and there's a potential threat in the area? What exactly do you take me for miss?" He gnaws at his lip and shakes his head. "Suit yourself."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She gives a smirk that crinkles at her eyes, leaning in closer to the stranger.

"You wouldn't know my evil organisation, they go to a different school." She quips, squaring her shoulders as she stands back, shifting her weight to one leg.

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. But if you're really worried, how about I borrow one of those fancy knives you've got?"

[helena-harper-official]

[ ooc: Anne Hathaway icon because I feel like it. Anyway, Helena headcanon under the cut! TW for talk of copious amounts of alcohol consumption/alcoholism ]

Helena had laid low during the interim time between the Tall Oaks incident/death of the president and the Lanshiang incident. But after, when everyone was home and safe and no longer fighting bioterrorists and BOWs? She went on an alcoholic bender. She's not sure for how long, really. Maybe as long as the Secret Service let her have off for recovery? Just drinking every strong liquor she could get her hands on; whatever killed the guilt, the grief, and the anger.

She had gone a little crazy with the parties after the death of her parents, but had held back because she had to care for Deborah. But none of that compared to sitting in a dark room, surrounded by empty liquor bottles, but still tipping them back to be sure they're empty. She checked herself into rehab after that night. She's been sober ever since.

[helena-harper-official]

Miss Harper...I remember you, somewhat.

It's...its been a while, hasn't it? I'd...I'd like to meet with you, if that's okay? To discuss what's happened, what I've done.

- Carla Radames ( @a-cheap-knockoff )

Helena could only stare at the message, anger springing to the surface with a fierce intensity. It had been years since the events of Tall Oaks and Lanshiang, but that anger never really dissolved. She wanted to rip the message to shreds, erase all evidence of it, and pretend it never reached her. But there was another feeling below the anger, one that demanded to also be heard. Obligation, perhaps? A gentler part of her, the last remnants of all the good that had been in her before Deborah's death.

She sends out one message, a few days after Carla reached out: I am willing to meet with you, somewhere public. If I don't like what I hear, I'm leaving and want you to never contact me again.

[a-cheap-knockoff]

Rest assured, Miss Harper, I simply want to talk. I'm afraid I'll have to set the time and date, though. It's hard for me to get out these days, hope you don't mind. There's a deli in Wrenwood, near the hotel- been there for years, so hopefully it's still there. I'll be waiting at noon. See you then.

-Carla Radames

-

It's only when she's sitting by the window that Carla realises she doesn't actually know if Helena knows what she looks like. From what she understands, Carla looked exactly like Ada Wong when last they met.

Hopefully the fact Helena is a highly-trained agent means she'll notice Carla looking for her, otherwise this may get awkward...

[helena-harper-official]

Wrenwood... another stereotypical small town like Tall Oaks had been. It was almost fitting, the meeting place being there. The brunette kept her guard up as she walked into the deli, even if she projected a cool demeanor aided by her slight resting bitch face. She's quick to spot the blond, having done some research into what Carla looked like before Simmons. It was somehow comforting, to not have to look at a carbon copy of Ada Wong.

And yet, she couldn't get her feet to move any further than where she stood in the lobby. She only barely made herself move to keep out of the doorway. "... Carla?"

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She locks eyes with Helena from across the deli, sitting up in her seat as she sighs with relief that she actually came.

"Miss Harper, I'm glad you made it, I wasn't sure if..." if you'd want to see me after all this time.

The words go unspoken as she offers a small smile, gesturing to the seat opposite to her.

Carla fidgets, wringing her hands before setting them on the table.

"I...I understand this all may be sudden- I really am grateful for you coming out to meet me, I know this can't be easy."

She opens and closes her mouth, trying to find what to say- what do you say in such a situation?

"How...how have you been? I hope you've been holding up well since, y'know."

It's not like Carla knows, what with her memory being more like a fishnet these days.

"I can't imagine how it's been for you."

Hopefully better than it's been for me, at least.

[helena-harper-official]

Miss Harper...I remember you, somewhat.

It's...its been a while, hasn't it? I'd...I'd like to meet with you, if that's okay? To discuss what's happened, what I've done.

- Carla Radames ( @a-cheap-knockoff )

Helena could only stare at the message, anger springing to the surface with a fierce intensity. It had been years since the events of Tall Oaks and Lanshiang, but that anger never really dissolved. She wanted to rip the message to shreds, erase all evidence of it, and pretend it never reached her. But there was another feeling below the anger, one that demanded to also be heard. Obligation, perhaps? A gentler part of her, the last remnants of all the good that had been in her before Deborah's death.

She sends out one message, a few days after Carla reached out: I am willing to meet with you, somewhere public. If I don't like what I hear, I'm leaving and want you to never contact me again.

[a-cheap-knockoff]

Rest assured, Miss Harper, I simply want to talk. I'm afraid I'll have to set the time and date, though. It's hard for me to get out these days, hope you don't mind. There's a deli in Wrenwood, near the hotel- been there for years, so hopefully it's still there. I'll be waiting at noon. See you then.

-Carla Radames

-

It's only when she's sitting by the window that Carla realises she doesn't actually know if Helena knows what she looks like. From what she understands, Carla looked exactly like Ada Wong when last they met.

Hopefully the fact Helena is a highly-trained agent means she'll notice Carla looking for her, otherwise this may get awkward...

[fractured-feathers]

"Tch, just great." Niel grumbles as he does his best to keep balanced along some old warehouse rooftops. The rain pouring down isn't doing him any favors as he skids along the metal surface, the rubber of his soles only able to grip on so much. Leave it to the damn B.O.W to be in the industrial area. He supposes it makes sense, but it's totally throwing off his game. He runs to try and gain speed, leaping to the next building with a grunt, pausing when he sees a figure near the ground below. Someone shouldn't be here...

[a-cheap-knockoff]

What's she doing here? Investigating. Investigating what? Her past, she guesses.

Carla's memories still resemble a scrambled jigsaw puzzle found in the attic that's missing a few pieces, but what she does remember is that she worked on something relating to B.O.Ws.

She also remembers how to intercept radio chatter- where she learned it, she has no idea. But when she heard about a rumored B.O.W around an industrial warehouse, she figured at the very least that it might help to jog her memory.

The researchers looking over her certainly aren't helping, so she may as well take matters into her own hands.

She doesn't actually...have any weapons. She's here to investigate, not fight. So she stays low and under cover, black poncho blending in with the darkness of the night.

[fractured-feathers]

Niel tenses at the unfamiliar sight, taking on a more cautious stance as he approaches Carla. His fingers flex near his hips where he keeps his combat knives out of habit, but he makes no sudden moves. His main priority is still the B.O.W but now there's a new factor involved. Is this stranger a civilian or someone else out after his quarry? Cyan eyes glow from under his fringe of bangs in the low light as he inches closer. The sight is almost unnatural. When he gets close enough, he clears his throat and adjusts his poncho, trying to see how the new face will react. The perks of being a bioweapon himself. His nightvision makes her easy to spot. "Not wise to be around this area so late. There's worse things than boogeymen here."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She squints to make out the details of the figure, meeting their eyes as the light reflects off them.

"I know perfectly well what's out here- or at least an approximation."

That's a lie, she has no idea. She remembees studying the Raccoon City Incident and the Umbrella Trials during her university days, but that's where her B.O.W knowledge ends.

"What are you doing here? You look dressed to kill. Hunting monsters, are we?" She comments, noting how the rain clings to the weaponry under his poncho, reflecting enough light for her to see the vague outline of it.

[fractured-feathers]

That catches his attention, eyes sharpening as he peers a bit more firmly at Carla. He wipes some rain from his face and utters a low but tired huff. "Yeah, well that's not exactly common knowledge. Most people who do know would stay away for their own safety." He leans on a rusted wall and sighs. "You're either brave or downright foolish. Where are your weapons?" He pauses as she asks him why he's even in such a place before sighing, the glint of fangs visible as he does. "Why? I have a bone to pick and some bioweapons to be rid of before they end up harming someone else." His hands tap against the knives clipped to his belt, wings etched in silver along the dark charcoal grey surface. "Don't tell me you're after the B.O.W around here too?"

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She crosses her arms defensively, head tilted.

"Wouldn't you like to know." She answers, looking around the area. "I'm just here to watch, not interested in fighting these things."

She does feel a little silly for not bringing anything, but just getting here was difficult enough if she's being honest.

Her mind lingers on the fangs, huffing a small laugh. "Not exactly human yourself, huh? Know how that feels..."

She shakes the thought from her mind- just because she's starved for normal conversation does not mean this is the time to be telling her life story.

"Anyway just- you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours, yeah?"

[fractured-feathers]

"Tch, just great." Niel grumbles as he does his best to keep balanced along some old warehouse rooftops. The rain pouring down isn't doing him any favors as he skids along the metal surface, the rubber of his soles only able to grip on so much. Leave it to the damn B.O.W to be in the industrial area. He supposes it makes sense, but it's totally throwing off his game. He runs to try and gain speed, leaping to the next building with a grunt, pausing when he sees a figure near the ground below. Someone shouldn't be here...

[a-cheap-knockoff]

What's she doing here? Investigating. Investigating what? Her past, she guesses.

Carla's memories still resemble a scrambled jigsaw puzzle found in the attic that's missing a few pieces, but what she does remember is that she worked on something relating to B.O.Ws.

She also remembers how to intercept radio chatter- where she learned it, she has no idea. But when she heard about a rumored B.O.W around an industrial warehouse, she figured at the very least that it might help to jog her memory.

The researchers looking over her certainly aren't helping, so she may as well take matters into her own hands.

She doesn't actually...have any weapons. She's here to investigate, not fight. So she stays low and under cover, black poncho blending in with the darkness of the night.

[fractured-feathers]

Niel tenses at the unfamiliar sight, taking on a more cautious stance as he approaches Carla. His fingers flex near his hips where he keeps his combat knives out of habit, but he makes no sudden moves. His main priority is still the B.O.W but now there's a new factor involved. Is this stranger a civilian or someone else out after his quarry? Cyan eyes glow from under his fringe of bangs in the low light as he inches closer. The sight is almost unnatural. When he gets close enough, he clears his throat and adjusts his poncho, trying to see how the new face will react. The perks of being a bioweapon himself. His nightvision makes her easy to spot. "Not wise to be around this area so late. There's worse things than boogeymen here."

[a-cheap-knockoff]

She squints to make out the details of the figure, meeting their eyes as the light reflects off them.

"I know perfectly well what's out here- or at least an approximation."

That's a lie, she has no idea. She remembees studying the Raccoon City Incident and the Umbrella Trials during her university days, but that's where her B.O.W knowledge ends.

"What are you doing here? You look dressed to kill. Hunting monsters, are we?" She comments, noting how the rain clings to the weaponry under his poncho, reflecting enough light for her to see the vague outline of it.