stardust souls

Thieves in a palace, full of tales and lies We gotta stake it; burn it out Expose the malice that you chose to hide It's just a break-in to break out

[heartsaligned]

heartsaligned — independent, persona-themed & super private multifandom rp blog. Created solely to write with one person. Feel free to follow and read whatever you want if you somehow found me, but I will not be following anyone else.

[heartsaligned]

@heavenslapse | resident evil 2 au 🧟

      This could not be happening.

      When Leon had woken up late that afternoon, he had told himself as he rushed out the door that this was easily the worst day of his life. His first real job, his career path, and he was late. Not just late, but hung over because he had stayed in Wrenwood a day too long just to celebrate his birthday with his friends. He had turned twenty-one, and while the number felt so big and scary, Leon knew he was ready to begin his new, grown-up life in a new city. His new life as a cop.

      Some fucking adult I am.

      Becoming a police officer had been Leon's dream since he was young, consuming cop dramas and movies throughout his entire childhood. The police were the good guys, the ones who helped every day people. They weren't always big, flashy heroes with their faces plastered across billboards, but that was okay; Leon didn't want that. He didn't want the world to know his name, or to go on some superhero-esque mission to save the planet. All he wanted was to help as many people as he could, the people who fell through the cracks: the people who really needed him.

      It made him sick to think about all the people he had already failed.

      Driving into Raccoon City had been a surreal journey. One moment he had gone from cooking up an excuse to watching people die in front of him, screaming and bloody. His mind had stopped working, autopilot switching on, and while he was terrified he knew he had to be strong. Especially after having met Claire, who arguably needed help more than he did. Or at least Leon liked to think that. Somehow, she seemed pretty capable, even at nineteen...

      Getting separated from her had sent Leon into a tailspin. Luckily, they both had avoided being injured in the crash that set them apart, but it had left Leon lost on the streets of a city he didn't actually live in. Fires burned, clouds of thick, billowing smoke making it even more difficult to navigate the maze of crashed cars and makeshift barricades. A sickly sweet smell like rotting flowers mixed with the burnt stench hanging in the early autumn air, oppressive, choking. Glass crunched beneath his shoes as he ran, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears he could scarcely hear the groans of the (sick? wounded? dying? undead?) infected roaming the streets around him. More than once he had nearly been grabbed, forced to pull his gun and open fire. His stomach churned, but Leon fought back the urge to be sick. He was trapped in a nightmare, but he didn't want to die. If he planned to survive the impossible, he had to be strong.

       For a time, Leon found himself able to just turn his brain off and compartmentalize. It felt as though he had created a checklist for himself in his head, and once he passed through the gates of the RPD station it was if he had truly shown up for work. Never had he imagined anything so horrifying happening on his first day, but he had gone through training to become a cop. It was his duty to serve and protect to the best of his ability. The city seemed bad, but Leon knew it couldn't be lost. He would put on his uniform, gather as much information as he could, and do everything in his power to help. He could do this. He had hope.

      He'd had hope, anyway.

      Within an hour Leon realized he was starting to dip beneath the surface of the water and was in danger of drowning. The station was overrun, his lieutenant was injured, and the survivors left were all infected or dead in some capacity. The spark of hope had renewed when Leon heard a voice shouting for help, but when he reached for the officer's hands beneath the rolling shutter, Leon had ended up pulling out only half of him. Blood smeared across the dirty tile, the man's internal organs spilling out of him in front of Leon's eyes, but the worst part of it all was the officer was still alive for a few agonizing moments. A numbness crept over Leon, stalling his heart and stealing his breath. His mind seemed to block off parts of the scene, protecting him from absorbing it all once, but unfortunately it didn't stop the sudden wave of nausea that struck him like an out of control train. Moving automatically, he grabbed the nearby trash can and pulled it over to himself, allowing himself to (finally) become immediately and incredibly sick.

      God, what was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to handle all of this? All he wanted to do was sit there and just melt down, but he knew he couldn't let himself have that luxury. He was still in danger, and could not afford to stop. Not just yet.

      Not until he found what seemed to be a safe room, tucked away from the nightmares and blood-soaked horrors.

      It was a stark contrast from the rest of the station. Although clearly searched, the S.T.A.R.S. office felt oddly removed. It was warmer somehow, well-lit, safer. The door was sturdy enough that Leon felt he could allow himself a moment to rest and just sort through everything he had already seen. His entire body trembled, the edges of his vision starting to fade into black, and before he could pass out on the spot he grabbed a nearby chair and dropped into it as his legs seemed to just give out beneath him.

      I'm still alive. I'm still okay. I think.

      He wasn't really okay, sitting there in someone's old chair, breathing too fast to be safe and trying hard not to completely panic, but he was alive, and that was a start. As he sat there, trying hard to focus and stop himself from hyperventilating, he let himself look over the personal affects on the desks around him. A picture of a dog on someone's desk behind him, a nice leather jacket hanging nearby with a familiar design he oddly couldn't place now, a mess of paperwork, CDs, flyers and other things. It was all so human it made Leon's heart ache. Were these people who had died in the attack, too? Had they been here when everything went down and rushed out to save the survivors, only to meet horrible ends of their own...?

      Curiosity got the better of Leon, and he leaned forward, picking up a worn diary sitting amongst the papers in front of him. Right now, he knew he couldn't step back out into that hallway; might as well try and gather a little information while he could.

[courtofparrots]

Oh no he’s cute and drunk

[heavenslapse]

      TROUBLE. That was the first word that entered Chris' mind. Meeting at a bar down town, and he'd had no idea what he was about to get himself into. Claire had said Leon was Chris' type but she could've been more specific. It was no secret he had a thing for blonds. He'd been ribbed enough by Jill for years. Younger, blond, with great legs. Chris was pretty simple. If he was into women he'd have fit some male stereotype. But Leon was all the things he liked put in one pretty package — far better than anything his imagination could conjure. If he didn't know he was a government agent, model or actor would've been his best guess.

      Chris had liked the sound of his voice on the brief phone call they'd shared. Warmth flowed easily through him. Strange for someone he'd only spoken to once before. Leon was funny, good humored, and Chris enjoyed every second talking to him even with Claire hanging off of him to get her phone back.

      He stood and took the offered hand, giving it a firm shake. He couldn't help but smile. ❝It would've been nice if she'd given me some warning about you.❞ Maybe it was shock. He felt incredibly set up and his sister would be hearing about it later. ❝I'm glad to finally put a face to the name. Sit down. We can catch up.❞

      Eight years had gone by since the devastation of Raccoon City and Rockfort. Almost an entire decade. It was baffling this was the first time they were coming face-to-face with each other. But the years had been busy. Setting up the BSAA had been its own major feat. They'd found stability in the fight against bioterrorism. Chris had read the Kennedy Report about the Plagas and Spain. And Claire seemingly had remained consistent in Leon's life despite her own work with Terrasave. For all he knew, she might have been better connected to Leon than him over the years. Things were finally easing out for him, but in a handful of weeks, when Claire recovered, he'd be shipping out again for another mission. Normality felt short-lived.

      ❝I should be honest with you. I'm not here for the chip. From what I've gathered, your situation was similar to something I went through in Raccoon.❞ Should he even get into that? The scars from his time in S.T.A.R.S. would always be present. No matter how they faded, numbed him, the damage would never be truly erased. ❝On paper, the answer seems simple. Noble, even. But you made the right call, even if my sister doesn't see it yet. She will.❞

      And that IMPRESSED him. Leon didn't have to learn from a mistake to know his choice was right. Chris had realized what he was doing. Claire was headstrong, just like her brother. At least there was someone looking out for her before a monumental mistake was made.

[heartsaligned]

     Oh, Chris was fun.

     They had barely begun talking and already Leon was having a good time. And he needed to have a good time after everything that had happened in the last couple of days. Jason had been so much like Jack that Leon had woken up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding, the feeling of that knife still warm in his hands. After that, Leon hadn't gone back to sleep, and tried instead to keep himself busy so that he wouldn't spiral again. Thank god for Chris Redfield of all people.

     A genuine smile spread across Leon's face as Chris shook his hand, his eyes practically lighting up with amusement. Leon was no stranger to male attention. Hell, he was no stranger to all attention, and he prided himself on his good looks, choosing to accentuate his curves with the right clothes. He was good-looking and vain enough to flaunt that fact. But it made him laugh all the same to hear that praise come from Chris' lips.

     "What, and ruin the surprise? Where's the fun in that?"

     Although he did get where Chris was coming from; he wasn't exactly expecting the man to tick so many of his own boxes. Big, built, with a warmth to him that Leon wanted to lean into. While hair and eye color wasn't the most important aspect of a person for Leon, he did love the dark hair and big brown eyes. Claire might have tossed a warning his way as well.

     "I'll buy you a drink. You came all this way to talk to me; it's the least I can do."

     And, Leon thought, it might take the sting out of what was probably coaming.

     Leon didn't know Chris, and now he was only just realizing that he didn't know Claire as much as he'd once thought, either. But he did know that the Redfield siblings were close, and a part of him truly anticipated Chris taking her side — only to be proven wrong nearly immediately. For a moment Leon couldn't even hide the surprise on his features. For a man whose desk looked as if a bomb had gone off, Chris had a surprisingly good head on his lovely broad shoulders.

      Warm relief flooded over Leon and weight seemed to lift off of his chest. It was so nice feeling seen and understood that for a moment he almost forgot why he had invited Chris out to begin with. Claire might not have shared the same feeling, but it felt genuinely good for someone to back him up without any sort of prompting.

      "Oh, right; The Arklay incident you were a part of. I dug up what I could on that, but there's not really a lot to go on, obviously. To be honest, I kind of picked up most bits and pieces from things I found in your old office."

      That night in Raccoon City had been a nightmare Leon couldn't escape from, and the first moment he had presented itself in the form of a brightly lit, oddly comfortable office in the middle of the RPD station. The S.T.A.R.S. office had felt like a strange time capsule, capturing a teams' last day together before disaster struck.

      Exhausted, Leon had sunk down into the first chair he saw and let himself have a little breakdown, even going so far as to consider ending things on his own terms. But when he recovered enough to start thinking clearly again, he had vowed to do everything in his power to survive. After going through everything he could get his hands on in the office, Leon had left the room with a lot of new (and terrifying) information.

      "Hope you're not mad, but I did read your diary. Handwriting aside, I learned a lot from it. You had the guts to go against the chief of police." Leon paused, offering a smile to the woman who came by to order their drinks. He decided it being a social sort of night that he couldn't go wrong with a simple rum and Coke. Drinking hard liquor neat was for solitary nights where he just wanted to forget.

      After the cocktail waitress left the table, Leon turned his attention back to Chris, the forced smile fading quickly. "You tried to do the right thing. Back then, I absolutely would've done the same thing. But I know if I gave Claire that chip her life would be a living hell. She'd be in serious danger, and she'd put other people in danger too. And that's the entire point of that chip: to spread terror, not put a stop to it. She thinks I'm a government lapdog obeying my orders, but it's so much more than that. I like her; I really do. But I can live my life with her hating me if it means I keep her and as many other people as possible safe."

      Frustration seeped into Leon's tone, and he let out a small sigh, shaking his head. It was like he could just feel himself building up to getting upset, and he knew he needed to put the stopper back in before he started overflowing. Chris might understand his struggles, but that didn't mean Leon needed to air out all of his dirty laundry.

      "...Anyway, thanks. For understanding, I mean. I'm sure Claire told you to yell at me, and I kinda wondered for a minute if you were gonna end up trying to kick my ass, but I'm really glad you're not. Would've kinda ruined the date, right?"

[callileon]

oh agent kennedy what are they doing to you now

[heavenslapse]

      Wesker, no matter how many years passed, had a unique gift for riling Chris up in the worst ways. He'd gotten better at managing his temper. But when Wesker was the topic of interest, it became a burning brush fire sparking to life from a long drought. So many years had passed. So many missions since last he'd had to hear the name: Albert Wesker.

      He was always going to be a canker on Chris's soul. The man along with Umbrella had changed the trajectory of his life. Who Chris would have been, if S.T.A.R.S. hadn't been disbanded, Iron's hadn't screwed them all over, and Umbrella hadn't been the root of all evil, he could never imagine.

      Chris needed to stop dwelling. He always told himself he could never change the past. His regrets and guilt couldn't be changed. The city had an unfortunate way of dragging it all back up, however. He would get swept in the undertow of too many dark memories the more he considered the desolate state Raccoon had been left in.

      ❝If we find Wesker, I'll make sure you get to take the first shot.❞ He tried to sound optimistic, all the while hoping it wouldn't come to that. He'd seen the video feed from the dead BSAA soldiers Sherry had sent from Leon. Their bodies had exploded on impact. Heads blown clean off from the rest of their bodies, huge chunks of flesh erupting away. He didn't need to see the man's face when he was already familiar with the gun he favored.

      Despite the tense situation, he genuinely felt himself easing up as the door fell off its hinges to the ground. Classic Jill. ❝Can always count on you.❞ No matter the odds, they always had each other's back. In the end, it was any other mission — just one with higher stakes.

      Chris took point, the entry pitch black save for the particles of dust hanging in the air revealed with the light of their flashlights. His footsteps echoed across wood flooring. Raccoon City was a mass grave. A glass case beside the doorway had been shattered, pieces of ceramic impossible to tell what they once were a part of in what little remained. Old, worn leather couches, a bust lying in a heap of rubble, and broken wooden shelves with books and pamphlets were scattered along the floor.

      ❝Too bad I skipped orientation. I bet Umbrella gave great tours.❞ The winding hall finally came to an end. Collateral damage a long trail in their wake.

     More than the veil of uneasy silence, there was no sign life even remotely found in the building. It looked like it'd remained completely untouched after the sterilization. He knew he was paranoid. There were infected roaming the city still. Yet they hadn't encountered ANY so far in the university.

     ❝This Elpis, Sherry was talking about. Do we know anything else about it?❞ Another super virus. One of the last things Spencer had created. Nothing good ever came from where that man was concerned.

[heartsaligned]

      Warped wooden floorboards groaned in protest beneath their footsteps, dust rising in small clouds around their boots. For a moment, Jill almost felt like she had set foot back inside the Spencer Estate itself, her heart giving a small leap as she glanced toward the windows. But there were no sounds of shattering glass, no sudden onslaught by the hellish dogs that had torn her friend limb from limb in front of her eyes. Instead, there was just a hollowness, an aching void of a building once beloved by a town that no longer existed.

      Awards hung in a grimy glass case, shards crunching beneath her as she passed, her light lingering for just a moment on the last photograph that had been added to the display. Seeing these kinds of things would never cease to twist her stomach into knots, even when she insisted she was fine and not dwelling on the past. Chris had told her once they couldn't focus on the numbness these situations caused, but she didn't believe any of them ever really could get used to it. Not when you were slapped in the face with all of the details. Only a monster like Wesker himself could turn a blind eye to the cries of the innocent.

      "Besides that it's got a weird name? Not really. But if Spencer himself cooked it up, I don't want to see what it could create. Raccoon City was this bad, and we mostly just saw the original T series..."

      Elpis. The name itself had sparked some sort of recognition inside of Jill, but not for any reason that would help them. Growing up she had found herself with precious few friends, though she wouldn't have ever called herself shy. But because she didn't choose to be overly social, she spent a lot more of her time devouring the books her parents owned and any that caught her eye in the library. It wasn't a shock that she'd had her own Greek Mythology era. What girl didn't love stories about badass women and bloody deaths?

      "Naming a virus after hope is pretty twisted even for good old Ozwell, but he did want to become a god in the end. I really can't say anything that crazy bastard did surprises me anymore."

      A heavy service door hung ajar at the end of the hallway, and Jill gave a small nod toward it, her light hovering over the open space. Like many of the other structures in the city, the university was built almost maze-like, living works of art meant to obfuscate and confuse. It wasn't difficult to see Umbrella's influence at work here, and Jill had a feeling there was a reason for the long hallway other than to simply display photographs of the faculty and hang up a few accolades. If they wanted real answers here, slipping behind the scenes was probably a good start.

      "Ladies first?" she asked, offering him the briefest of smiles. 28 years, and she had never forgotten that. Chris taking what could easily have been his last stand in that corridor in the laboratory of the mansion, buying her time to get to the roof and signal Brad. Chris had always been a good guy.

      Her smile faded quickly, the dark service hall ahead of her a grim reminder of why they were really there. Even the beam of her light didn't seem to want to illuminate what lay ahead, the air strangely thick, oppressive. There was no telling what might be further inside. The thermobaric missile had destroyed virtually all life on the surface, but what about in places like this? Places tucked away, secret little nooks, underground facilities. So much of Raccoon had survived, and with it a handful of nightmares. Nightmares left to rot, to mature, to mutate.

      The university was too quiet.

      "What do you think? Keep going, or head back and try one of the other doors?"

[heavenslapse]

@heartsaligned — re4 au 🌊

      With no aid from the government, Chris and Jill had been called in. Besides trying to find Leon, their own reports hinted to the tell-tale signs Wesker was also in Valdelobos — a small rural area in Spain. Their paths intersected, and Chris wasn't about to let Wesker slip away again. After the downfall of Umbrella, Wesker was still out there. He couldn't forget.

      Find Leon and find Wesker; that was their mission. They'd find out why the American president's daughter had been involved later. With Wesker, anything was likely. A distraction, a test. It didn't matter. Sometimes it all felt like a game, and they were still rats running through his maze. Chris couldn't stand it.

      Whatever had happened to the area, one thing was obvious. The people here had evolved into bioweapons. He and Jill had taken the long way around to get to the lakeshore. The village seemed to have little connection to the outside world, completely isolated up in the mountains.

      LAGO. The waves on the lake were calm in the setting sun, lapping against the worn wood of the dock. It was a strange calm that settled over the lake. The only thing breaking its glassy surface was the flash of fish tails striking the top of the water. They'd split up from here. Chris would find Leon and Jill would continue on the search for Wesker. Better she find him first. They both knew without saying it out loud. Chris would instantly lose his cool the moment he laid eyes on Wesker. Six years, and that hostility had only grown into a suffocating void. The stress of it was an uncomfortable itch spreading beneath his skin.

      The boat chugged its way out to the center of the lake. The other boat was half submerged in the middle of the clear water. Chris stopped the engine and dragged his boat to the poorly held together pieces of wood. They'd found notes about a monster that lived in the lake; a salamander that had become host to a parasite. There was no sign of it now, or really anything in the water other than fish and driftwood.

      ❝Fuck me. I should've swapped places with Jill...❞

      He reached over, grabbing Leon carefully under the arms and hauling him up. Besides soaking wet, at least he didn't seem injured.

[heartsaligned]

      Pain blossomed in his chest, sharp hooks sinking in, latching, rooting. Darkness took him quickly, suspending him in a state of limbo, cold, lost. Confused. He couldn't think. Couldn't move. For the time being he was just trapped where he knelt, his mind hardly his own, his body given over to a greater purpose.

      "Sacrificial lamb..."

     A hooded figure appeared in front of him, seemingly materializing out of the darkness. The lord of the village himself, Saddler, adorned with religious imagery like some sort of creepy eldritch god. Fear flooded through Leon's body, sudden and terrible. His mask of courage shattered, leaving him worryingly vulnerable like putty in Saddler's hands.

      "You will receive our most sacred body..."

      Inky black lines spread up Leon's arms, white-hot poison in his veins. The parasite's grasp on him spread exponentially. Both pain and fear exploded through his entire body, and for a moment Leon couldn't tell which actually hurt more. Panic gripped his heart as he realized there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was powerless. A puppet.

      "It begins now. When day breaks, you too will join our covenant. To share in my holy blessing...forever."

      Icy tendrils worked their way over his chest, wrapping around his neck, climbing upward to his face. Leon screamed, fighting against them, struggling against the tide that threatened to swallow him whole. This couldn't be the way his life came to an end, mind and body enslaved. He couldn't allow himself to become one of them. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening!

      With a horrified scream, Leon's eyes shot open and without allowing himself a moment to think, he reacted. Violently. He jerked his entire body away from the hands that grasped him, his mind clouded with dread. The boat rocked from the sudden movement, swaying dangerously on the eerily calm lake, but thankfully did not turn over.

      Logic failed Leon, and rather than take inventory of the situation properly, he scrambled for his gun instead, allowing his primal fight or flight instinct to take over — at least until he got a good look at the face of the man who had come to his rescue, pulling him from the wreckage of the sinking fishing vessel.

      Definitely not one of the villagers...

      "...you're not a local," he stammered, feeling suddenly stupid. With a shaky breath, he let himself drop down into the bottom of the second boat, his hair dripping wet, falling into his face. His clothes were soaked and cold, clinging uncomfortably to his body. But his arms looked normal; no black lines, no infected veins. Just some blood on his fingers from earlier.

      A nightmare...

      His eyes drifted back upward, the cloudy sky nearly fully dark. With a start Leon realized he had definitely lost a fair amount of time after he had coughed up blood. Could he blame that on the stress? Or was that dream just a harbinger of a future yet to come...?

      He didn't really want to think too much about that right now.

      "So; you make it a habit of saving guys out on the lake, or am I just lucky...?"

[heartsaligned]

@heavenslapse | chris and leon finally meet ❤️

      For two days Leon had felt that cold, creeping darkness getting closer, threatening to overtake him like it had after Raccoon, after Spain. Jason had brought up memories that were still far too recent, and good people had died because of some idealistic crusade. Leon was no fool, he knew better than to blindly trust the government, but he also knew the power of fear and terror itself. He knew that the fallout would cause even more suffering and destruction than Raccoon City and the fall of Umbrella combined. If it had taken nearly six years to tie up the legal matters with all of that, what would happen if the world suddenly turned on the United States? If the world was suddenly made aware that, at any moment, another biohazard could take away everything they loved?

      Keeping the chip had been the smartest move, and Leon was 100% sure he was doing the right thing — he just hadn't expected, even in a million years, that Claire would stand against him. Of all people, he had believed she would understand him rather than try and use him. For a moment, he remembered how Ada had tried to get the G-virus off of him, how she had taken the Plaga sample away from him at gunpoint. Everyone found a use in Leon. Claire was supposed to be different.

      Out of respect, Leon had waited a day to call her, hoping to give Claire some time to settle down. He understood her anger, despite how much it hurt, and he wanted her to understand why he had made the decision he had. It wasn't loyalty to a government whose corruption seeped into the soil like a poison, nor was it his duty as a man forced into service. It was purely protection, a burden to shoulder on his own. You didn't stop terror by making it spread: you quietly cut it out by the root.

      Much to his surprise, Chris Redfield answered the phone, and Leon couldn't help but feel his mood tick upward at the sound of his voice. They had spoken before, but had never really gotten to know each other despite their connections. But now that Chris was in town, Leon couldn't help but find an opportunity there. Claire had told him more than once they should meet, and if Chris was willing to listen then maybe his sister would accept the truth from him. Feeling optimistic (and maybe a little opportunistic), Leon suggested grabbing a drink. They settled on a bar downtown, and Leon got himself ready, making sure he was fashionably late — even if that just meant changing into a leather jacket and a pair of dark wash jeans.

      Fifteen minutes after the agreed upon time, Leon walked into the bar, pushing through the crowd until his eyes landed on the man who could only be Chris. Although they had never met, Leon was aware of who he was, having used his connections to learn about him in order to rescue Claire from Rockfort Island. Of course, that had been years ago, but the man resembled Claire enough that Leon didn't have to second guess. With a small wave to draw his attention, Leon slipped over to Chris, offering him one of his practiced, but charming little smiles.

      "Can't believe it's taken us this long to actually meet." He held out his hand, offering a handshake. They might as well make it an official thing, even if they were meeting in a bar for drinks. "Leon, by the way; just in case you thought I might be some random guy trying what would be a really pathetic pick-up line. Now that I think about it I have no idea if Claire's ever actually described me to you. If she did paint you a picture, I hope she captured my good side."

[heavenslapse]

      ❝Yeah, you're right.❞ And he KNEW she was. Jill always was. One of the few people who knew how to pull him up from the swirling thoughts overwhelming his mind. ❝He's not the same rookie cop getting caught up in all this trying to survive.❞ Now an agent who had seen far more than his fair share of violence and death, and unlike the BSAA members none of it was for his own will. Saving and protecting people, that was one thing. Chained to the government and a tool for their convince, it had never sat right with Chris either.

      Claire had escaped Raccoon City thanks to Leon. She'd missed being picked up by the government with him and Sherry because he'd told her to run. She wouldn't have found Chris otherwise.

      He could still remember all these places, flashlight scouring over the ruins of the fallen buildings. Back when Raccoon City was in its prime, a beautiful flourishing place where no one would've guessed a darkness seeped through from its core.

      ❝It's hard not to get nostalgic here.❞ He couldn't imagine the person he'd be now if that day in the mansion hadn't happened. How much did Wesker regret not leaving Chris to die to that dog in the woods. Shooting the infected beast before its teeth could camp down on his throat. They were so NORMAL. It was practically painful to know what he'd been like before and could never return to that person no matter how much he wanted to. Cocksure, lazy, just enjoying life in his mid-twenties. After getting discharged from the air force, Barry had given him a new path. S.T.A.R.S. had been a welcoming change.

      ❝Jill, if I don't think about Leon I'm going to start thinking about Wesker. I'll just shoot him this time for pulling us back into this. No more going down memory lane and trying to understand. I thought this chapter was closed.❞

      There was only so far history could go. No rhyme or reason, for two years he'd played them like a damn fiddle. Precise, controlled, until they realized WHO their former captain truly was and how little he saw their lives, their friendship, all their trust. It had meant nothing to him. The HATE he held for Chris over that time that he'd never thought of, never saw. How much it must have chaffed him to be in the same room. Chris had looked up their captain. He'd idolized him. Wesker had loathed every second of it.

      ❝He's like a cockroach. Even throwing him into a volcano wasn't enough to keep him from coming back again.❞

      Raccoon University, like the rest of the city, lied in a condemned heap of rubble. Four years before the outbreak Umbrella had sent a generous donations to the university. The university grew, equipment updated, and greatly expanded. They'd even provided intern ships with the pharmaceutical company. A gift too good to be true. Raccoon was a prime location for Umbrella. The local medical herbs that grew in the area, among other things, a pull to its location.

      ❝What are our chances of finding anything here?❞ Because from where Chris was standing, it seemed highly unlikely. The steps leading through the main hall were cracked and barely holding up. Rock and wood piled and sagging with exposed pipes. Banisters were torn away, hardly in tact enough to apply pressure without worry of crumbling.

[heartsaligned]

     Once upon a time Jill had looked at the university through a child's eyes, wondering if she would ever go there herself. She remembered her mother proudly telling her that it was built by a Japanese architect, and had stood proudly in the city for decades. Students from all over applied, and one day Jill might even grace its hallowed halls. But life had taken a different turn for Jill.

Inspired by her father's grand stories, Jill had left home at eighteen to find her own way in the world. She was tough, smart, and capable, able to pick a lock in seconds flat and take a man down in half the time. But something about Raccoon City seemed to be calling her, pulling her back, and by the age of twenty-one she found herself back home, a proud member of S.T.A.R.S. It wasn't as glamorous as the tall tales her father told, but it made her happy to be responsible for protecting a city she dearly loved.

     But now, staring up at the remains of the university her mother had so admired, Jill felt a massive knot forming in her stomach. Her boots crunched over broken glass as she entered the main hall, her flashlight flickering over the remains of the building. That nightmare at the Spencer Estate had probably, in some twisted, seriously fucked up way, saved her life. Had she gone to school instead, she probably would have died during the outbreak.

     Sometimes she still wondered if that would have been better.

     "Why don't we stop thinking about Leon and Wesker?" she asked, her tone more biting than intended. She wanted to keep Chris from spiraling, but Wesker was absolutely the last topic of conversation she wanted to entertain. She just refused to believe he could still be out there. There had to be some mistake.

     Feeling a little guilty (as well as stressed), Jill took a slow breath, calming herself. "Leon's counting on us. We're gonna find him. And if Wesker is out there somewhere we'll put a stop to him. What's one blond asshole when I can liquefy a mutated tyrant?"

     Flashing Chris a weak sort of smile that she hoped was inspiring, Jill moved ahead, searching the area around her. A good chunk of the second floor balcony had collapsed, barring the door that lead to the elevator — not that it would have been useful, anyway. A stuffed moose head lay on the ground near the stairs, its odd red and blue eyes sparkling in the beam of her light. A small shudder ran through her, images of a tiger statue standing in a narrow corridor flickering back to her, vivid as though she had only seen it the day before. Umbrella had an aesthetic and stuck to it; she had to give them that, at least.

     "If there really was a lab here there might have been a lot more left unexplored. Rebecca said the compound they used to mass produce the vaccine came from here. There has to be something. Maybe even the entrance to ARK, whatever the hell that actually is."

     Another facility; that was really all she needed to know. Jill had been out of the field for a while, but since returning she had made sure to make up for lost time. Yet none of her research had brought her to the discovery of ARK. If not for Leon and Sherry, they might have never discovered it existed, or that the BSAA had been searching for it, also. That uncovered information really made things crystal clear that their own organization was falling into the very tracks that Umbrella had left behind.

     She moved over to investigate one side of the hall, tugging harshly on a door that was half-open already. With a squeal, it swung itself right off its hinges, crashing to the floor with a loud bam! and a cloud of dust. For a moment, Jill just stood there, staring at it with an irritated sort of expression as though she could not, for the life of her, figure out how this could have happened.

     "Oh, bullshit."

     Waving the dust away, Jill glanced toward Chris, almost wondering if somehow he had missed the entire spectacle. At least it seemed the jarring sound hadn't awoken anything vile from its hibernation: the university remained as quiet as a tomb. Which, Jill realized, it definitely was.

     "Anyway, uh...this way's open."

[heavenslapse]

     A call about Raccoon City and the anger in Leon's voice thinking Chris had something to do with the BSAA being there, keeping all that from him for however long, should've been the first tip-off. He'd hoped it was information Leon had stumbled across and hadn't actually gone into the desecrated city. Why would he? It was a place that'd changed all their lives forever and placed them into a never ending hell.

     Finding out hours later from Sherry the government had abandoned them and she couldn't get into contact with Leon; Chris was a hurricane of worry and anger. He fluctuated between the two while readying his team for Raccoon to search for Leon and Grace Ashcroft.

     Being back in Raccoon City with Jill was far from a trip down memory lane. A walk filled with barbed wire tearing away the walls of scarred trauma that had never really healed. Flying in on the helicopter was a vivid reminder of when they'd gone to the Spencer Mansion. A whole lifetime ago when things were so much simpler. Everything had started in the unfortunate city and paved a way to a storm no one could have predicted.

     Working for S.T.A.R.S. they'd gone to investigate the resent missing peoples' cases. BRAVO team had gone to a hideout, and later disappeared, losing radio contact. ALPHA was sent in to find them. Joseph had found a gun, gasping so sharply it'd alerted them all, and a hand was still gripping the trigger. Chris could still remember the scream as he was torn apart. They ran to the mansion, unable to fight what was out there, and Brad had taken off without them.

     Having Jill with him was the only thing keeping him calm in such a tense situation. She knew what to say, even while he could tell being back was hard on her too. He'd gotten out before the outbreak, off in Europe with Barry, and Jill was supposed to meet them eventually. Worst of all, the one person he did not want in this mess had found herself roped in while trying to find him. Claire had survived, thanks to Leon finding her in that gas station, and gotten out of Raccoon City together with a girl named Sherry. He should have told her the truth. It would've avoided the tremendous guilt that would later weigh on him for the rest of his life.

     The call coming through that his team had located Leon and Grace—reassuring him they were okay upon his insistence. Chris and Jill made their way through Raccoon City, double timing it. The lights of the helicopters and police cars flooded the scene, surrounding what was left of Raccoon City. Chris puffed out a breath, scanning the area.

     ❝Leon!❞ Relief quickly flooded back to the ever predictable anger the closer he got. ❝God damnit, Leon! Of all the stupid shit you've pulled over the years, this might actually be the at the top.❞ Chris didn't know the full story yet, either. Or probably most of the details in the stories Leon had told him thus far. ❝Raccoon City, of all places. If Sherry hadn't contacted me when she did.❞

     He swallowed, throat suddenly sore and mouth too dry. He'd gotten better at controlling his anger over the years, but there were still moments it burst out of him. Chris had never been great with controlling his emotions. The anxious worry from hours of not knowing if Leon was alive or dead, staggered its way through the haze. He looked him over, taking note of the scrapes and dirt. He eyes locked onto Leon's sharp gaze and the anger evaporated out of him.

     ❝I had a feeling when you called you might have came here, but for you to be here.❞

[heartsaligned]

       It wasn't until Leon heard Chris' voice that he felt a chill run through him, but all the same he had to smile, genuinely happy to see Chris again. For a while, Leon had been sure that he was never going home, that he would never see the faces of the people he loved. The T-virus was going to kill him if something — or someone — else didn't first, and Chris would be left alone, lucky to even learn that his husband had died in the one place none of them had ever wanted to go back to.

      Husband. Even now Leon found the word daunting, small sparks of anxiety flaring up in his chest when he thought about it. Without really thinking, he fiddled with the ring ever so recently replaced on his finger, and took a calming breath. Sometimes he couldn't believe he had agreed to such a thing, and yet other times he couldn't help but feel a sense of pure happiness when he realized there was someone who genuinely, truly and deeply loved him. Someone to come home to. Someone who was home. It was amazing.

      "I can't believe Sherry told on me," Leon joked, his voice just a little less steady than he would have liked. "But I guess I owe her one. And you, too, for that matter. Wasn't really sure how we were getting out of that place..."

      The humor started to fade out of Leon's voice, and though he was smiling still it was as though he was trying as hard as he could to keep that expression fixed into place. Though not quite as pale as he had been only half an hour before, Leon still looked incredibly rough, his hair limp, his face worn, dark circles heavy beneath his once-again blue eyes. His clothes had multiple tears and heavy spots of blood, some of it his own, some of it a mystery. Dirt, mud, muck of origins unknown — it was almost hard to tell that his shirt had once been blue. He desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes.

      And a nap. God, he was tired. He wasn't sure how long he had been awake, but he wouldn't have been shocked if he'd surpassed the 36-hour mark. He wouldn't say no to a bite to eat either. Damn; he really was feeling better.

      "I knew you'd follow me if I told you what I was doing. Would you believe this all started with just an investigation? I was looking into the Raccoon City Syndrome and it all just...lead here. If it wasn't for Grace..."

      He paused, glancing over his shoulder toward the helicopter where Grace was sat, renewed with hope and probably not processing ninety percent of what had just happened. Really, he couldn't blame her; he was in the same boat. Ever since Wrenwood, Leon had been in go mode, never stopping, never letting himself take stock of the insane shit he was doing. Business as usual; it wasn't the first time he had fought giant spiders and climbed a skyscraper. It was just somehow worse this time. Then of course there was Wesker, and Gideon — 

      A small shudder coursed through him before he could stop it. Maybe he didn't need to think about that.

      "I had to come here, Chris. If not to save myself, then at least to save Grace. And it all worked out in the end. I'm alive, Grace is alive, we found a cure. And the best thing is we don't have to talk about anything else that happened."

      As if he'd get that lucky.

[ap3orus]

Can you tell I'm excited for the Resident Evil Showcase?

[heartsaligned]

@heavenslapse | alpha team is flying around raccoon city...again🦝

     September 28, 1998 — Jill would never forget that night. The city had seen signs of viral activity, but nothing the R.P.D. hadn't been able to handle. Or so Jill thought. She had stayed behind in Raccoon City to continue her investigation, but by the time she realized that she was fighting a losing battle time had gotten away from her. Leaving the city wasn't an option with constant surveillance, and by late September she found herself basically stuck in her own apartment, unable to leave. Brad had done what he could to send her supplies, but the other S.T.A.R.S. members were long gone from the city. She couldn't rely on them anymore, nor could she find her way to them.

      And then the shit really hit the fan.

      Jill wouldn't lie; there was a moment she considered just ending it herself. Sitting in her apartment, watching the news, realizing the city was going under, Jill half-wondered if eating a bullet wasn't the sanest option she had available. But then anger took hold of her and she steeled herself to escape. An obsessed tyrant, a few dead friends, a T-virus infection and a lot of bullshit later, and somehow she found herself free of the nightmare. Against all odds, she had escaped, just moments before the missile strike obliterated life below.

      Or so she thought.

      Nearly thirty years later and Jill had somehow found herself in the wreckage that was once her home. It made her feel sick to remember that night. All those nights, really. The good and the bad. Nights at J's bar, relaxing with a beer after a shift, laughing with Chris and the others. Mornings at the Stagla station near the precinct to refuel her car and grab a few sweet snacks to hide away in her desk, only to end up having to share them with the team. Even St. Michael's clocktower, it's powerful bells ringing out every hour, a historic staple of the city and far more impressive than the police station's. She wasn't even sure what was still standing, but her heart ached to see everything in ruins, the color washed away, bleak and broken.

      But Jill didn't bring any of it up, not when they were here for a more serious mission. There was no telling if Leon was still alive after the terrifying call they received. Sherry had mentioned he was dying then, that he was stuck in Raccoon City and infected. Even if he had somehow found answers here, found the cure he so desperately needed, what then? He needed evacuation ASAP. She really didn't want to think about what might have already happened.

      They had found his car abandoned in the middle of the street, but besides some bullet casings and some spiderwebbing nearby there was no sign as to where Leon had gone. Sherry had mentioned that he had moved toward the center of the city, at least, and as such they had continued their search, ultimately settling on exploring the area around the old university while the other team checked elsewhere. From survivor reports, the university had not only been the source of one of the vaccines, but it had housed an underground facility of its own. If it wasn't the ARK that intel mentioned, then the others would surely be on the right track.

      "He'll be okay."

      Her voice was quiet, softer than she meant it to be, less sure than she would have liked. But she knew she needed to keep Chris calm all the same. "Leon's strong. And incredibly stubborn. He's not going to die here, Chris; Raccoon City couldn't stop him twenty-eight years ago, it won't stop him tonight either."

[heavenslapse]

@heartsaligned — let's fix this game🪴

     ❝We had a plan. But you know how that goes.❞

     The flame flickered to life from Chris's lighter, and was quickly snuffed as the end of his cigarette was lit. He took a careful, slow drag, pressing his back to the towering stone statue behind him.

     Where to begin...

     ❝This village is controlled by a woman the locals call: Mother Miranda. They worship this woman like some divine being. Besides her at the head of this mess, there's four lords. All of them are descendants from the original rulers of this region. And each of them contains a unique power granted to them by Miranda.

     Miranda has a unique ability where she can take on the appearance of anyone she desires. In this case, she took the form of Mia Winters. We're suspect to believe it was to get closer to Mia's child, Rose. We did invade their home, and I did shoot her. But it wasn't actually Mia.❞ And even burning her body in the following moments wasn't enough. ❝We put Rose and Ethan in transfer but both their cars were attacked on the way. Miranda kidnapped the child and tore out Ethan's heart.❞

     What a headache. Now Ethan, a hole in his chest and barely able to stand, still wanted to find his daughter. The determination of parental love wasn't a lost concept on him. He'd do anything if Claire was ever in danger. But Ethan, with little training, who'd found himself in this mess because he'd tried to find his wife four years ago, was not a solider; and completely out of his depth.

      ❝Believe me, it gets worse. Rose Winters has a unique power that we believe Mother Miranda wants.❞ He paused for a minute, taking another drag on the cigarette. The smoke filtered into the air with each spoken word. ❝She cut up sections of her body and placed them in canisters for some RITUAL. It possible we can save her. I'm not convinced we can do the same for her father, and we don't have the intel on what Miranda did with her mother.❞

     It looked like Rose was going to lose both of her parents at this rate. They should've responded quicker. There was a heavy weight that pressed itself over his broad shoulders. There wasn't time to dwell on what had gone wrong or how they could've prevented their mistakes. They STILL had time to save one of the Winters.

     ❝Leon, have you ever heard of mutamycete. It's a fungus that originated in this region. Ethan Winters came into contact with its properties four years ago in Louisiana. It alters the DNA of anyone who comes into contact with it. It's the only reason he's still alive without his heart. But his body is slowly breaking down. Any regenerative abilities that came from this mold seem to be failing him now.❞

[heartsaligned]

     When the DSO had received intel of a possible new threat, Leon had not been surprised to find himself assigned to the recon mission. There wasn't a lot to go on, and the leak itself felt almost suspicious, but if things ended up worse than expected all he had to do was radio for extraction. Most of the time, it was simple as that. In, out, back home in time to skip dinner and avoid sleep. Easy.

     His orders were clear: survey the threat, avoid detection, report back. As such, Leon had only been dispatched with what he could easily carry; a Heckler & Koch VP70 9mm, his trusted and familiar sidearm that had gotten him through thick and thin, as well as one of his personal favorites — the Desert Eagle .50 AE. The clip only held 7 rounds at a time, but the punch it packed more than made up that. An emergency weapon, just in case things went sideways.

     Which, of course, they did. Quickly.

      One minute the village felt quiet and eerie, the type of old-fashioned, picturesque place found in storybooks. It was hauntingly beautiful at a distance, but the moment Leon set foot inside he felt a chill that had nothing to do with the snow. Memories of another village flooded through him, and try as Leon might, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that it wasn't just nostalgia making him relive those traumatic moments. There was something more to this place.

      Something like werewolves, and giant men with even bigger hammers.

      It didn't take long for Leon to find himself hopelessly overwhelmed. Even with the heavier firepower, Leon was no match for the (monsters? humans?) onslaught that seemed only to want him dead. Not unlike Spain, the villagers seemed to have been called off at the critical moment, allowing Leon a moment to breathe. But also like in Spain, Leon ran afoul of one of the village leaders only moments later. Knocked unconscious, chained up — it was all a little too familiar. But Leon had to give credit where credit was due. This time his narrow escape was a lot more exciting.

     Yet out off everything that had happened and could have happened, running across Chris Redfield was absolutely not on Leon's bingo card. Their on again, off again relationship had been a little strained as of late, and as such Chris was one of the last people on his mind when he landed in the snowy countryside of Romania. And yet, as he listened to chain of events that had lead to their paths intertwining, Leon couldn't help but think that Chris himself was actually the most normal thing about this mission — and that was including the batshit explanation of why the BSAA was there to begin with.

     "Well, thank God you could tell me all that with such a straight face, Chris. Otherwise, I might think what you just told me was weird."

     A man without a heart, a baby split into four pieces, and a village in the thrall of a religious zealot. But from what he understood, the mold, the source of everything happening here, was different than the las plagas parasite in Spain. Still, Leon wasn't blind. The similarities were too much to ignore. It almost felt as though someone had ripped a page out of the story of his life and tried adapting it to a new setting with a couple of new twists.

      "Mutamycete?" Leon repeated, brow furrowing in confusion. "Can't say that I have. With a name like that, I wouldn't want to go around repeating it, either."

      So Ethan himself was a B.O.W. — and a failing one at that. Not that it surprised Leon all that much. Over the years Leon had seen a lot, but the heart was normally a part that was non-negotiable when it came down to most of the creatures he had faced. Ethan might be alive now, but Leon knew that wasn't going to the case forever. It wasn't fair, and a part of Leon felt angry toward Chris for putting him in this situation to begin with. Unfortunately, he also knew that even the best-laid plans often failed, and they couldn't have anticipated being attacked. That wasn't on Chris. All that mattered now was trying to save who they could, and if this child was able to be rescued then Leon couldn't walk away.

      "So, what's the plan? Is there a plan? Or am I heading back out there and just hoping for the best, like usual?"

[heartsaligned]

@heavenslapse | leon's in so much trouble💍

     Death was hardly a stranger to Leon by this point. He had witnessed it firsthand when he was eighteen. The quiet tragedy of a parent slipping away beneath his fingertips, the haunting pain of loss, of a wound that would never heal. He had found death lurking around every corner at twenty-one. Monsters that had once been people, forcing him to fire a gun he had never actually wanted to turn on human beings. Death stalked him around every corner, through the halls of the RPD station, destroying the life he had once dreamt of, and while it had robbed him of his innocence, it had not extinguished that spark burning inside of him.

     Time had not gone easy on Leon since that fateful night in Raccoon City, and more than once he had found himself spiraling, despairing, only to pull himself back up because his life no longer felt as if it belonged to him. He wasn't a person anymore, he wasn't a man with a name: he was a commodity. A tool. He was an ID number assigned to handle bioterrorism and little else. So why? Why did he keep fighting, keep surviving? For a government who didn't care about him? A government who had now abandoned him?

     At one of the lowest points in his life Leon had understood why he kept fighting. He wanted to live, not survive. Actually live. And the people in his life meant something, the people he had grown to care about and love. The people he had yet to meet who would impact him. People like Claire and Sherry, who had just been kids when their lives were upturned. People like Jill and Rebecca who had joined the police department to try and help people, just like Leon had. People like Grace and Ashley, who were just thrown into nightmares, wholly unprepared.

     And of course, people like Chris, who taught Leon that it was okay to love and be loved in return.

     Because of people like Chris, Leon kept moving forward. He regained parts of himself once thought lost. He had never wanted to stop saving people, but that bitterness inside of him turned back into something that almost felt like hope, that there were people he could save. He wasn't useless, he wasn't a failure. And even though he took every life lost personally, he understood that every life saved was still a miracle.

     It was strange to think how Raccoon City had been the final piece to a puzzle long unfinished.

     The cool, early autumn air of Raccoon City against his skin was a feeling Leon had never expected to feel again. It was surreal, even now, to be standing in the same city he had driven into, terrified that he was late for work. Surreal to think he had just escaped another Umbrella lab, to be rescued when it felt like he had reached the end of the road. For just a moment, Leon felt like that rookie cop again.

     But then a sharp pain in his chest brought him back to reality and Leon winced, placing a hand against ribs that were definitely broken. Adrenaline had kept him going and prevented the worst of the pain, but now that it was wearing off and the T-virus sickness had been purged from his system Leon was acutely aware that he was more wounded than he had previously realized. Nothing he hadn't been through before, but it wasn't going to make his explaining things to Chris any easier. There was no way he was winning sympathy points when he ran off without a word.

     Still, a small smile tugged at his lips, and Leon couldn't help but feel happy. The gravity of everything would sink in later, and the trauma from just this night alone would be a lot, but for the moment Leon let himself hold onto everything good he was feeling. He had not only survived and helped save Grace, but she had helped save him. Without her, he would have destroyed Elpis, and he and Sherry both would have died. They had both managed to eliminate feelings of worthlessness, of failure. At the eleventh hour, Grace had figured everything out. She opened up the path for Leon to (hopefully, and finally) put a close to Wesker's story, and to finish off Gideon, the man who had started everything for Grace's chapter. And in the end, Chris had come to their rescue like some really fucked up kind of fairy tale. It made Leon almost want to laugh.

     He was just sure Chris wasn't going to see the humor in it all...

[heavenslapse]

@heartsaligned — time for more trauma🚆

     Not much time had passed since they'd left for Geppetto's estate. Romeo didn't know if this was the right call. Regardless of his own anxieties, the overhanging truth remained: they needed more answers. Where better find them than to go back to where it all began?

     The BLUE FAIRY lied stopped in Krat Central Station. The train car door was open, leading to a weapon workbench in the supply car. Sketches of the P-Organ rested against the back of the bench, the mechanical legion arm and all its intricacy placed beside them. Romeo felt his face twist as they passed through.

     The dining car was bright with broken wine bottles and blood spatter that had sprayed over delicate, white tablecloths. Papers, flyers for the grand carnival and summer festival presenting the Parade Puppet's jolly face, and torn pages of worn books made the car look like a whirlwind had blown through. Yet, despite the haphazard appearance, the car remained presentable. Unlike some of the other trains, The Blue Fairy was kept in rather pristine condition.

     Entering the next car, at the very end, he saw the red cushioned chair. It was ominous, in a way. Resting at the very back and facing toward them. Discarded parts of puppets had been placed on the table beside it. Towers of old books had been stacked on the opposite side. Discarded boxes and tools lined the floor as white upholstered chairs lined the car's sides.

     ❝This is where you woke up. I remember sensing it right away.❞ Romeo couldn't help but smile. Warm fondness crept into his voice, even if the memory was bittersweet. ❝I sent the Parade Master to try and retrieve you. His cage wasn't the best idea — now that I think about it.❞

     Beyond the chair, he could see into the next car. Something about it felt familiar, but not enough that he could recall in detail. ❝I know you and I were both made here.❞ His hand scratched the back of the table behind him, the scrap of paper falling to the floor. Romeo bent to pick it up.

I have perfected the greatest puppet. Now, for that child again...

     Like striking a match, Romeo angerly tore up Geppetto's handwriting. ❝I will NEVER understand that bastard.❞ And he didn't want to. Where one question became answered more followed in a never ending, tangled fabric. Too many lies, too many things left unsaid. ❝I wish we could just kill him all over again.❞

[heartsaligned]

     Pushing himself was hardly a good plan, but Carlo couldn't handle just sitting around and allowing his thoughts to consume him. The nightmares had gotten worse, his anxiety growing with every passing hour as he wondered not only who he had been, but what he was becoming. They both knew that if they pushed too hard on the fractures he could completely shatter, and if that happened there might be no recovering. Yet even knowing the danger, Carlo insisted on going back out. If he waited too long, he feared the full truth would slip away like water between his fingers.

     Visiting his childhood home had been haunting. They had uncovered truths his heart could scarcely handle, and memories of a painful childhood had begun to resurface. But there was more, Carlo was sure of it. They had scratched the surface of the iceberg that had been Giuseppe Geppetto's sins against nature, but there was surely more to be seen. Carlo just couldn't find peace until he knew everything.

     The stench of death and decay assaulted his senses the very moment they entered the station, but so much of Krat had begun to rot away that not even the rains could wash it all clean again. Part of Carlo wondered if they were endeavoring to save a dead city, that anything they did toward the restoration was just a waste of time and energy. But it was a thought he would keep to himself for the time being. More important matters awaited him.

     The train car felt heavy, the atmosphere inside thick and oppressive. Already he had passed through these cars twice, but now it felt almost...frightening. As though he knew there was something lying in wait behind the closed door, but had no choice but to open it anyway. The things his father had done on this train...the things Carlo still didn't know...

     Glass crunched beneath his boots as they passed the wrecked dining car, the remains of fine plates and broken wine bottles. His eyes traveled to the red chair and various tools on his way to the back, but he chose not to think about what might have happened there — what had happened in the one inside of the hotel. He did, however, pause just a moment to place a hand over his chest in memory. The quartz may have strengthened his heart, but he didn't want to dwell about his father's reasons. Nor did he want to remember just how painful it had gotten to install...

     Romeo's voice called to him from the darkness, and Carlo glanced over toward him, a small frown forming on his lips. The Parade Master's cage had not gone unnoticed, though initially he had not given it much thought. The puppet's odd, static-filled voice had assaulted his senses, and at the time all he had known was how to fight. It hadn't been until later that the penny had actually dropped...

     "Seriously, one of your very first plans was to stuff me in a cage? I'm kind of surprised you didn't just give him a big butterfly net and call it good."

     He wanted to smile, at least a little, but it felt as though the anxiety building in his chest would make him sick if he tried. Instead, he stepped around the chair and moved further in, his eyes scanning for anything he might have missed before. Anything his father had tucked away and not taken with him; a scrap, a scribble, a photo — anything that might tell him more about what had happened and what he was still missing.

     'I wish we could just kill him all over again.'

     Romeo's anger felt justified; Carlo had thought about his father dying more than once when he was younger. Hell, he had fantasized about it when he had been upset, crying in Romeo's arms and wondering what he had done to be abandoned by the man. But when that moment finally had come, when Geppetto breathed his last lying in his arms, it hadn't been relief. None of the chains dragging him downward had broken, the pain inside of him had not healed. There was just a hollow void, and Carlo had finally understood that there was a pain so deep that he could never be rid of it, no matter what he did.

     Geppetto had simply died without an apology, without closure. He hadn't been forced to answer for his crimes, or suffer. He was just gone, and that was that.

     "It wouldn't make you feel any better," Carlo called back. "Trust me."

[caminimm]

heart like a rose 🥀

…

https://instagram.com/caminimm

[the-night-flovver]