Formula of Fear

My name is Albert Wesker. Once, I believed I was invincible. Once, I believed I was unstoppable. Now...I have found I am very, very wrong. [[This is the rp blog attached to the Natural Evil RPG ]]

[formulaoffear-blog]

Hi everyone

I don't know how long my hiatus is going to continue *drawn out sigh*, but seeing as I'm not in any particular storylines, I think it's probably best to free up Wesker for someone else to use - it doesn't seem fair if I didn't, you know? Not that character and mun are going their separate ways, he's grown on me and he's off with my other muses, drinking some bar dry and having a grand old time.

You've all been a blast, and believe it or not, have really helped me through some difficult times since I've been here.

Thanks again, and hope to cross paths with you again soon!

Plink | ichoosenoise

[formulaoffear-blog]

ooc: Guys, I'm not exactly on hiatus, but I might be dropping in and out due to a family crisis. This rp group always cheers me up with it's antics :s

[formulaoffear-blog]

*looks over Wesker's shoulder* Hey, Albert~. Wacha' up to?

*stands very, very still.*

*leans over his work, covering it protectively*

How the hell did you get in here?!

[[ooc: go nuts. He totes deserves it :|]]

[mr-trickster-blog]

*laying on the ground and eating a lollipop* Hmmmmmm.. It’s not fun being like this when i can’t use my abilities.

[formulaoffear-blog]

*eyes, warily* Being a pint-sized version of yourself stalls your powers?

My eyes don’t deceive me - you are an angel. Do your wings and abilities develop during puberty?

*thinks on this* Now I see why your God has left all of you :|

[mr-trickster-blog]

*sits up and looks to Wesker* Weeeell not exactly. You see, i still have my basic abilities at this age, but i can’t control them yet. *sighs* Learned that the hard way…

And same goes with my wings. I have them, but i bet you just don’t see them… or yet, anyway.

[formulaoffear-blog]

*watches him poof back to normal*

Bollocks.

*grumbles* On the topic of wings, there is some...definition. Same goes for ghosts, Reapers and who knows what else is crawling around out there. Not saying that you crawl of course, this is a bad choice of words I'm going to keep digging this hole because I know I'm in trouble, argh

[mr-trickster-blog]

*laying on the ground and eating a lollipop* Hmmmmmm.. It’s not fun being like this when i can’t use my abilities.

[formulaoffear-blog]

*eyes, warily* Being a pint-sized version of yourself stalls your powers?

My eyes don't deceive me - you are an angel. Do your wings and abilities develop during puberty?

*thinks on this* Now I see why your God has left all of you :|

[formulaoffear-blog]

And, you are?

Well, this was a strange meeting indeed. He side-stepped - not enough to pass her completely, but to make sure they weren't facing each other. The researcher in him rapidly started taking notes, filing away things - scent; stature, voice - but the man was ever curious.

Unlike a cat, Wesker's lives were possibly infinite, his curiosity bound only by experience. A new creature. Something that carried darkness in its wake. Truth or lie? Couldn't possibly be worse than Purgatory.

"...Just a man. Nothing more." He tilted his head lightly, almost in good humour. "And you?"

[the-woman-in-red-blog]

Oh you’ll get them!

[operationvalentinearchive-deact]

How?

[the-woman-in-red-blog]

…

I’ll have Wesker give them to you. :|

[formulaoffear-blog]

I walk back in and people are promising things in my name.

Exactly what in hell is going on here?

[operationvalentinearchive-deact]

Ada broke a window and is going to make you pay for it. :|

[formulaoffear-blog]

The hell I will. She doesn't work for me anymore, and I certainly do not work for her.

Long walk, short pier. *folds his arms, frowning*

[the-angel-of-the-lord-blog]

damn-straight-cherrypie replied to your post: the-woman-in-red replied to your post: What’s your…

If you fuck dudes or girls or both.

I never mated with both genders before…

[formulaoffear-blog]

Threesomes are fiddly but highly enjoyable with the right people :|

Wait did I say that out loud

[the-angel-of-the-lord-blog]

What’s a threesome….?

[agent-pretty-boy-blog]

You really don’t know what a threesome is?

[the-angel-of-the-lord-blog]

Sadly, yes…

[formulaoffear-blog]

*slots himself between them, arms around their shoulders, friendly-like, but addressing Castiel* Would you like to know what a threesome is?

[formulaoffear-blog]

Bobby | Wesker

[formulaoffear-blog]

Movement.

Wesker turned his head slowly, side to side, trying to pick up what it was. The problem with heightened senses were that you had to concentrate to actually pay attention - the human mind was excellent at ignoring things it that it considered unimportant. Not even the super-serum Birkin had given him all those years ago could change that.

Rust, dirt, oncoming rain a county over. Boots on wood; metal. Could be anything.

You’re afraid. The convulsive shiver went through him. No. No he sodding wasn’t. And to prove it, he took a step forward. It was only a little step because he felt like it. Yes.

Wrinkling his nose, Wesker felt his sunglasses slide down just a little. It took a moment to adjust - but he caught the flash of metal as the hinges on the front door creaked.

The memory came on suddenly, thudding boots, breathless voices, adrenalin and the stink of sweat and fear. Spent bullet casings on a dirty floor. Brief, but clear. Danger. But human danger.Time to take a chance.

Wesker put his hands up, the gesture of surrender. Unfortunately the recollection of the STARs unit did something to his mouth. He was fairly sure he’d arranged the words quite artfully, and in control, but somehow they came out as: “I come with beer.”

Argh.

[those-are-my-boys-deactivated20]

 Bobby carefully opened the door, it creaking slightly as he peeked out, the barrel of the gun pointed out. Whoever this person was, they seemed very suspicious. 

 And Bobby didn’t like that.

 As he watched, his mind reeled to for a name to match the face. This person…he seemed familiar. But he met so many people in his life that it was hard to put a face to a name. And right now wasn’t easy either. But, he swore that he felt familiar…Ah, memory sucks right now.

 That’s when those words reached his ears.

 Very ,very few say that when approaching a house. Unless they knew the person would respond to it. So now her was sure that this person knew him. But, that doesn’t mean he can lower his guard. Not until he gets a better look.

 Opening the door more, a loud creaking being heard from the hinges, Bobby stepped out onto the ground, one foot still in the house. He kept his gun ready and aimed the whole time, and narrowed his eyes at the male. 

 ”What kind?” he said, calling out.

 Only a couple knew what kind he drank.

And if the answer was wrong, then that means something bad will happen.

[formulaoffear-blog]

"It's free beer." Wesker snapped, but quickly composed himself. "Some whiskey, too. I was..." His words stumbled. It wasn't often that Wesker found himself lost for words, but then, he'd never thought he'd be in the middle of a scrapyard somewhere in the middle of South Dakota, weaponless, alone and with a bag of booze. Oh, and with a gun pointed to his head.

That was mysteriously absent from his training in Umbrella. STARs had made him familiar with drunk and disorderly angry people, but Bobby wasn't drunk - he was angry. Understandably so - he dealt with actual monsters, and nobody ever sent in help.

Dear BSAA, I would like to draw your attention to the real threat across the world...

It came in a hot rush, somewhere in the vicinity of his toes, across his shoulders. Shame and embarrassment. Wesker's constant companions of late. He closed his eyes, tried to gather his thoughts, tried to...what? Be in control? Laughable.

"...I lied. The beer is not entirely free. I may need some assistance. But just a few minutes. That's all I ask you to spare."

ooc: I'm going by the supernatural wiki that that's where bobby's based. LET ME KNOW IF THIS IS WRONG so I can change it D:

[the-woman-in-red-blog]

Oh you’ll get them!

[operationvalentinearchive-deact]

How?

[the-woman-in-red-blog]

…

I’ll have Wesker give them to you. :|

[formulaoffear-blog]

I walk back in and people are promising things in my name.

Exactly what in hell is going on here?

[mr-trickster-blog]

Damn. Looks like “The Attack of the Anons” took place earlier… And it resulted in Dean becoming a cat, including those other three that turned into mermaids. Hah, apparently not even i can stop magic anons from doing their job. *The six-year-old was sitting in a corner with his arms folded, wearing that infamous grin of his.*

[formulaoffear-blog]

Luck of the draw, I suppose, although I've found that being stubborn occasionally helps one escape. Although it may have been an anon who did not wish to put up a fight.

*peers down at him* *grumbles* Please turn back soon. I...dislike it when the general population returns to a vulnerable age. You are all so horribly fragile :|

[the-woman-in-red-blog]

-flops tail, looks around-

I’m bored. :I　

[formulaoffear-blog]

*stares* *snaps out of it*

Tch, I really need some tuna :|

[the-angel-of-the-lord-blog]

damn-straight-cherrypie replied to your post: the-woman-in-red replied to your post: What’s your…

If you fuck dudes or girls or both.

I never mated with both genders before…

[formulaoffear-blog]

Threesomes are fiddly but highly enjoyable with the right people :|

Wait did I say that out loud

[guardianangelofgreatdetecti-blog]

formulaoffear replied to your post: ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* \(◕ω◕✿)/ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ We’re magic that’s why! Now, onto my job. POOF! You are now a unicorn for a week!

*jaw drops…possibly in horror*

…

*looks at Wesker*

[formulaoffear-blog]

*gestures with his hands, but for the moment, can't find words.*

[the-angel-of-the-lord-blog]

-The angel managed to hear a few words come from Wesker's mouth that sounded like plain gibberish. They were hard to make out for Castiel, but he studied Wesker's face in the process. Cass wasn't scared of this man, for he too knew who or what he is or was.-

Dial home..? -Castiel made a confused expression, because heaven didn't have phones, or any kind of technology that existed on Earth.-

[formulaoffear-blog]

Wesker looked down at him, feeling rather helpless. The whole idea was completely absurd. He was holding a merman. Who also happened to be an angel.

That was another thing. Angels existed. This just threw a whole new spin on his already tilted, awful world and Wesker...wasn't exactly ready for that.

"I mean contact someone." Wesker said, trying to be patient. Instinct had kicked in very hard at this point - this was an entity that could turn him into a bloody smear if it so wished. "Someone, anyone, who might help turn you back into what you were. The tail...I don't think it's going to work for you in this day and age. Really."

[alaiseviltwinning]

[the-woman-in-red-blog]

……

I just remembered. 

Wesker can’t dance well. :|

[formulaoffear-blog]

There’s a reason I don’t do it often, Ada.

[operationvalentinearchive-deact]

And ‘Shake your groove thing’ just came to mind. :|

[formulaoffear-blog]

I believe I was  born without a groove 'thing'. That, or Annette won it off me during a game of poker. :|

[formulaoffear-blog]

Bobby | Wesker

ooc: Sorry this took so long ;A; WORD HEAVY. Just as an opener.

———————————————————————

He parked the car a block away, telling himself it was for safety’s sake. It had nothing to do with caution; or procrastinating, or the way his stomach tied itself up in knots every time he tried to think about what he was doing.

Wesker squared his shoulders and started to walk. No point in beating around the bush, was there? No. This was important.

His knapsack felt heavy. There had been many sleepless nights and restless days since returning to the States, and it seemed that every time he’d found an answer, there were more questions uncovered. Wesker liked questions, but there was no frame in which to build a theorem; no boundary to cage a hypothesis. He had been brought up in the diamond-hard walls of science, been educated in the masquerade of high society, but nothing had prepared him for the ugly truth that everyone he’d thought beneath him…might be right.

There had been a name on that contact list he’d found, when searching out old contacts. A name he recognized from a past he tried so hard now to crawl out from under.

Over his head, a sign swung in the uneasy breeze, creaking on rusty chains. Singer Salvage Yard. So the old sod actually went and did it.

Wesker eyed the front door. No time like the present. So why were his feet so reluctant to move…?

[those-are-my-boys-deactivated20]

 OOC: ‘Tis okay. :3

The only noised that could really be heard was the sign swinging in the breeze.

 Bobby was walking around inside his home, a book in his hand. Of course, it was no old book. It was one on various demons and how to kill them. Ah the things you had to know for his line of ‘work’, besides the Salvage Yard. Helping Hunters did bring him some sort of satisfaction- it may be weird, but it did.

 The male sighed quietly as he leaned against the front of the desk, shutting the book in his hands. He was alone at the time- Sam and Dean were out on another hunt with Castiel.  Of course, he warned them to be careful but, knowing their luck, they wouldn’t listen.

 ”Idjits….”

 A figure caught his eye. Outside the window, he spotted someone in the yard. Eyes narrowed immediately. Was it a demon or a human? Or something else….? Without a second thought, he reached for his gun and slowly made his way to the door, waiting for whoever or whatever it was to come up.

 Hopefully, he didn’t have to kill anything right now.

[formulaoffear-blog]

Movement.

Wesker turned his head slowly, side to side, trying to pick up what it was. The problem with heightened senses were that you had to concentrate to actually pay attention - the human mind was excellent at ignoring things it that it considered unimportant. Not even the super-serum Birkin had given him all those years ago could change that.

Rust, dirt, oncoming rain a county over. Boots on wood; metal. Could be anything.

You're afraid. The convulsive shiver went through him. No. No he sodding wasn't. And to prove it, he took a step forward. It was only a little step because he felt like it. Yes.

Wrinkling his nose, Wesker felt his sunglasses slide down just a little. It took a moment to adjust - but he caught the flash of metal as the hinges on the front door creaked.

The memory came on suddenly, thudding boots, breathless voices, adrenalin and the stink of sweat and fear. Spent bullet casings on a dirty floor. Brief, but clear. Danger. But human danger.Time to take a chance.

Wesker put his hands up, the gesture of surrender. Unfortunately the recollection of the STARs unit did something to his mouth. He was fairly sure he'd arranged the words quite artfully, and in control, but somehow they came out as: "I come with beer."

Argh.