just a zombie now.

can we put a hold on the whole arresting me thing? we have bigger things to worry about right now. (independent billy coen rp blog, by vlad.)

[armyissued]

REPORT ON LT. WILLIAM 'BILLY' COEN.

LEGAL NAME: William 'Billy' Coen NICKNAME(S): N/A. BIRTH DATE: may 19th, 1972 ( 05/19/72 ) AGE: fifty-two (as of 2024) GENDER/PRONOUNS: male (he / him) ORIENTATION: bisexual ZODIAC SIGN: taurus.

CURRENT RESIDENCE: mobile due to BSAA stationing, has a house in washington. EDUCATION: Trade school graduate. OCCUPATION: gun-for-hire, currently in the employ of the BSAA.

EYE COLOR: dark blue. HAIR COLOR: black, though starting to show gray. HEIGHT: 5’11”. BUILD: strong in his shoulders and back, generally fit from work and a hobby of going to the gym. SKIN: fair-skinned, but has developed a more consistent tan across himself as he spends more time outside with work. SKIN MARKINGS: the most interesting scars he carries are a number in the shape of human bite marks (from the training facility incident) and a collection of small circular marks that look like they were made with needle-like teeth in tight patterns (leech bites from same incident) across various parts of his torso and arms. ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: Billy's body is particularly dense, internal and external, and can be likely attributed to exposure to a number of Umbrella BOW strains that have caused minor mutations. he can handle a lot of damage, more than most people might expect.

BIOGRAPHY.

tba in full.

the short version is Billy, formerly a Second-Lieutenant of the USMC, was framed for the murder of twenty-three innocents during a top-secret mission and sentenced to death upon return to the US and after a short stay in a psychiatric facility. He escaped from the convoy transporting him to his final sentencing and met STARS member Rebecca Chambers on a stopped train, and became involved in an incident regarding the Umbrella Training Facility.

After the incident, Rebecca filed a report faking Billy's death and he escaped, spending several years on the run before coming back into contact with Rebecca and being influenced to join the BSAA to re-establish himself in the world with his gun-for-hire skills.

Currently, he is working with the BSAA, though sometimes his personality makes people wonder if it's worth keeping him employed.

[novelresilience]

Billy's responses come quickly, her phone lighting up with his name across the screen as she sits in bed. Rebecca still hasn't moved from the cover's warmth, the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach only growing as she reads that his own rashes haven't grown

This makes more survivors of Raccoon City dealing with this ailment, and a couple of deaths, matching what they are experiencing. She and Billy hadn't even been in the city during the outbreak, but they had been exposed to the virus at the facility.

She can still remember him patching her shoulder up back in that facility, can still remember wondering if she'd turn just like those monsters. But nothing had ever happened, and she'd believed herself to be one of the individuals with natural immunity.

[text: Billy] Let me know if it gets worse or if you need anything?

[text: Billy] I'll do my best, I've been working on researching this on top of everything.

[text: Billy] I'm starting to suspect that this is T-virus, maybe a latent form of the strain that was prevalent in Arklay.

[armyissued]

[text: miss do-it-yourself] you got it, doc

[text: miss do-it-yourself] you said the type we had wasn't liable to mutate further, but this doesn't feel like a mutation

He sends the second message and lets the phone fall to his chest. His head hurts as he turns his attention back to the television. He hadn't paid much attention to the stories that much, but he knew things were bad enough to have the attention of the public these days.

After a moment of the woman's face swimming in front of him, he picks the phone back up.

[text: miss do-it-yourself] where are you working on this?

[text: miss do-it-yourself] hope you've got better protection in place than when we did that cdc run

[armyissued]

[text]: I don’t want to worry you, but remember how you texted me that photo of the rash you had appear?

[attached is an image of her shoulder, shirt pulled down to expose discolored and raised skin decorating the area]

[text]: My shoulder was hurting this morning, I thought I had just slept wrong but noticed this. I’ve been treating two other Raccoon City survivors with similar rashes and at this point I believe it’s connected.

[text]: I am not sure what we are dealing with here yet, but I don’t have a good feeling about this. Especially after the recent news reports of Raccoon City survivors deaths.

He's feeling terrible, worse than when he sent the picture to Rebecca asking if he needed to be worried about a particular rash across his upper back and shoulder. It was still there now, burning into the skin of his upper arm.

There were news reports of people caught in the crossfire of the Raccoon City infections that he watches when he's too exhausted to get up from the couch or to change the channel - and he's watching one now when Rebecca's name lights up on his phone. He reaches to smash the volume button to lower the woman's voice to a background din.

The image she sends him is a mirror to his own bothersome sickness, the raised area around where he remembers doctoring the bite from a monkey in the depths of a decommissioned training facility.

[text: miss do-it-yourself] well, that makes three for four for four on RC survivors with rashes

[text: miss do-it-yourself] mine hasn't cleared up yet, but not feeling too much worse yet

[text: miss do-it-yourself] make sure you take care of yourself, rebecca

[armyissued]

"They said you were a killer. You agreed, because it was easier than explaining the rest. Easier than admitting you weren't sure if you deserved to be saved. You weren't tried in court. You were tried in silence. Convicted by memory. Sentenced by regret. But the truth. You never stopped running because part of you feared what might happen if you ever stopped. Not the law. Not the virus. Not the dead. But the question: 'What if I did deserve to live?' Because if that answer is yes, then every name on your conscience becomes a weight you chose to carry. You wear guilt like a uniform. Not because it fits, but because it feels like the only thing you didn't abandon. Tell yourself it was orders. Tell yourself it was war. Tell yourself it was survival. But none of those men call your name in the dark. Only one does. And it sounds a lot like yours. You think escape means freedom. But you haven't escaped. You're still here. Still haunted. Still rehearsing a punishment no one asked you to serve. What you ran from was never the execution. It was the possibility that you are still alive, and that means you'll have to choose what to do with what's left. So, Billy, who are you without the sentence?"

Who are you without the sentence?

The words ring, reminding him quietly of what he said to Rebecca on the day he thought would be the last time he ever saw her: Guess I'm one of the living dead now.

What else could he be? He had no name he could claim - Billy Coen was dead among the foliage of Arklay's forests, signed and notarized by Rebecca after they parted ways. Lt. William was dead even before then, court-martialed without due process and sent off to be killed as a quiet cover up.

None of those men called his name anymore. None of them did when the massacre happened either - if they did, he didn't hear them, half-crazed from dehydration and knocked unconscious before the bloodshed.

What if he deserved to live? The question was never if he deserved to live, but rather what he was willing to do to keep himself alive. He had convinced himself he was evil long before anyone else asked him to imagine himself as evil.

Breathe in. Breathe out. To the count of five on each, until the world seemed to fall silent. The guilt would eat him, a rat in and a rat out, but it was a force he was used to carrying.

The room is dark and he can feel the weight of metal tags resting against his sternum as he counts the breaths.

Who was he? What was the name on those tags? Who was he talking to anymore, except his own guilty mind?

"Someone who has to keep going."

[armyissued]

dear anon i see ur ask i will answer on the morrow bc its LATE

[tomatoscribbles]

the dream team! while im losing steam in this game, i love these two and i’ll miss them when im done :’D as always, click for captions!

[novelresilience]

@armyissued

[novelresilience]

It's still so nice to hear his voice, that playful tone she'd seen glimpses of in moments that night in Arklay. It had been a brush of hope amongst the dread and chaos. Something to hold onto, and in the following night when she'd thought she wouldn't make it out of the Spencer Mansion, the weight of his dog tags had reminded her to hold onto that. It had helped keep her going. When the call is dropped, she sets her phone down, her fingers continuing to brush against and fidget with the dog tags.

It's been seven years.

Every time the cafe's door opens, she can't help but glance up to look and see if it's him walking in. Her coffee arrives, a small sip settling her nerves, and she glances up just in time to see him. A smile of her own forms on her lips at the sight of his, and she can't help but rise from her seat to throw her arms around him. "Billy."

[armyissued]

Seven years. It feels like longer - but maybe that was because he'd been counting days of surviving on the run, spending most of those years as the living dead. It felt odd to return to life as...normal. As normal as it could be working in the bioterror defense forces.

Rebecca is on her feet before he can get over to her, and his arms catch her waist and shoulders as she throws her arms around him. It definitely feels like a scene from those movies they play in the evening when nothing else good is on, a reunion fit to be set to a love song from the eighties.

"Hey." He smiles as he holds her, just lingering in her presence, before setting her down. "You look like you've been doing well. It's so good to see you."

[novelresilience]

@armyissued continued

"Alright, I got us a table in the back left. You can't miss it." Rebecca starts before moving aside to sit back down and wait for her coffee order. Caramel macchiato with whipped cream and chocolate chips, her standard order that tends to earn her teasing from her friends. "I'll see you soon." It's been seven years since that long night, seven years since she bid him farewell and committed to falsifying his death. A few letters had eventually turned into phone calls, and now his name is cleared, and she's about to see him for the first time.

Her finger toyed with the dog tags that have been resting against the dark green top she'd donned. They're out in the open, with no need to be hidden under her shirts any longer. After all, she's about to return them to their rightful owner.

[armyissued]

"Can't miss it. Alright, I'll keep that in mind." There's mirth in his voice, the kind she only saw glimpses of like the clouds breaking during that time together, and an anticipation to try and return to something like normal life.

He taps the button to hang up the call - and it isn't terribly long after that he's tracing a path up the sidewalk to the cafe, sidestepping strangers who don't have the patience or knowledge to want to scrutinize his face as a criminal.

It's been strange, learning how to be comfortable being seen again.

He's not hard to spot when he does come in. He's still tall, dark hair swept back from his face - though the wind has mussed it already - and a peek of that elaborate tattoo hidden under the pushed back sleeves of his coat.

Billy Coen was a man who cut an intimidating figure - at least until he broke into a smile.

"Well, look at you."

[armyissued]

❝ how do you take your coffee? ❞ (maybe around reuniting time frame?)

"Sorry to disappoint, but nothing fancy for me. If I drink it, it's black, with sugar if I'm feeling particular about it."

Coffee had been her idea for a good place to meet. After all, how long had it been since they last saw each other?

She's a scientist now, an honest to God one, and he's - not a fugitive. Not anymore at least.

He smiles a bit, the tone of his voice cheerful through the phone.

"Don't worry about ordering mine. Get yours and I'll get something when I get there, yeah?"

[leneemusing]

for muses that are getting to know each other

❝ what's your favorite color and why? ❞

❝ can i come with you? ❞

❝ you have a nice smile, has anyone ever told you that before? ❞

❝ how do you take your coffee? ❞

❝ sorry, what was your name again? ❞

❝ it just occurred to me i never asked you what your last name is. ❞

❝ actually we've met before. ❞

❝ i've heard a few things about you. ❞

❝ care to join me? ❞

❝ i'm not really sure why i trust you. ❞

❝ i don't usually talk this much, it just feels easy to say stuff when you're listening. ❞

❝ i know we don't know each other that well but if you wanna talk about it... ❞

❝ could you help me with something? ❞

❝ do you like it here? ❞

❝ are you new around here? ❞

❝ you can ask me anything you want. i promise i'll answer truthfully except the things i feel like lying about. ❞

❝ i don't mean to be too forward, you just seem like you could use a friend right now. ❞

❝ you can come with me. i mean if you don't have anyone waiting for you. ❞

❝ we're friends now. you can ask me for help. ❞

❝ do you like this music? i can change it. ❞

❝ what are your favorite snacks? ❞

❝ really? i wouldn't have guessed that about you. ❞

❝ do you mind if i ask about it? ❞

ACTIONS:

VISIT: for sender to go to receiver's home for the first time

VISITED: for receiver to go to sender's home for the first time

CRYING: for sender to see receiver cry for the first time

CRIED: for receiver to see sender cry for the first time

BEGIN: sender and receiver are on their first date together

TRIP: our muses go on a group trip but end up stuck together, away from the rest of their friends.

SITUATION: our muses are acquainted because one of them is their friend's roommate. muse a shows up when their friend isn't there and ends up hanging out with muse b one on one.

GO: our muses go to a zoo or theme park together and get lost.

INVITE: sender cooks for receiver for the first time

INVITED: receiver cooks for sender for the first time

TOGETHER: our muses spend the night for the first time

TRY: our muses hooked up and are hanging out the next day

COMFORT: sender is going through a break up and receiver offers to cheer them up

COMFORTED: receiver is going through a break up and sender offers to cheer them up

OFFER: sender gives receiver a ride to the airport/picks them up

OFERED: receiver gives sender a ride to the airport/picks them up

AID: sender helps receiver redecorate

AIDING: receiver helps sender redecorate

[armyissued]

Send ✚ for a HEALTH headcanon.


his health is surprisingly good for a guy who has had crazy injury luck and been lightly infected with t-virus. it's honestly probably because of the t-virus that he's in such good health. there's a percentage of the population immune to the worst effects of tyrant, and while he hasn't submitted to proper testing, there's a good chance he's part of that group.

as a result, he doesn't catch sickness easily and he's even harder to seriously hurt than he was before. he does get rash flare ups sometimes that are treated with antihistamines, but he hasn't seen any significant side effects since the training facility.

more recently, he's still shaking off a very short term a-virus infection and still waiting to see if it has left anything behind, but he's managing well enough right now.

HC asks.

[armyissued]

Send ␛ for an ANGER headcanon.

billy is surprisingly slow to anger, which shocks a lot of people when they find out he's ex-marine. he's never been a person who is short-tempered, and even in the moment where he'd resigned himself to the life of a criminal, the anger was slow and secondary to his plans for survival.

he WILL get mad on behalf of other people, but his frustrations always turn into action rather than anger.

HC asks.

[thxqueenofmemes]

Headcanons!

Send ✚ for a HEALTH headcanon.


Send ♕ for a CHILDHOOD headcanon.


Send ✿ for a HAPPINESS headcanon.


Send ␛ for an ANGER headcanon.


Send ♆ for a BODY headcanon.


Send ϡ for a MENTAL STATE headcanon.


Send ღ for a LOVE/SEXUALITY headcanon.


Send † for a RELIGION headcanon.


Send ✄ for a PET PEEVE headcanon.


Send ☂ for a FOOD headcanon.

[armyissued]

whistle if u want an ask from billy

[armyissued]

[txt: Billy] I'm on my way home now from Blue Umbrella.

[txt: Billy] I'm starting to think I'm never going to have a normal day at the office again. Before you worry, I'm fine. My back is just torn up from some glass.

[txt: Billy] I'll explain more when I get home.

He's hardly moved since they got to Rebecca's place. If anything, he's moved from the guest bed to the couch - which is where he's dozing when she texts him.

He squints at the words, wondering if he read the second message correctly, before he sits up despite the pain in his ribs.

( txt: ms do it herself. ) glass??? are you okay?

The third message comes as he types it, and he exhales a sigh.

( txt: ms do it herself.) alright. be safe, i'll see you when you're back.

[auratold]

@armyissued

As they finally descend into Chicago, Rebecca can't help the relief that floods her. She shifts carefully, making sure not to disturb Billy. Sleep hadn't found her, not really, with the lingering concern for the man beside her after the fight they'd endured.

It didn't take long to notice him open his eyes, whether he'd been asleep or simply resting them Rebecca wasn't sure. "Hey," She starts, a small smile on her lips. "How are you feeling? We should get our injuries looked at and then we can go back to my apartment, both of us need some rest after today."

[armyissued]

He's tired.

It's the first thought that dips into his mind when the whirring of the engines whines with their descent. He prided himself on being able to sleep anywhere, to tuck his head against his chest and nod off enough to rest, but even the couple of hours he had snatched weren't enough to beat back the fact he was very, very hurt.

What could be treated had been treated to the best of their limited abilities. His shoulder felt torn to shreds and it felt like he'd taken a truck to the chest. When he breathes in deep, it hurts like hell and tells him that doing anything is going to be a gamble for a while.

Rebecca's worried face makes him consciously tell himself to relax, reaching out to put his thumb on the pinch of her eyebrows.

"I'm as well as I can be." So, really not well at all. "They're gonna take one look at me and tell me I need some high grade painkillers and about a month's worth of bedrest. We can get checked out, but I'm not expecting much."

[armyissued]

YOU ONLY NEED ONE