Grace Ashcroft, FBI!

Rp/Ask blog for Grace Ashcroft from Resident Evil: Requiem (if you see my main blog follow you NO YOU DIDN'T!)

[miss-ashcroft]

Finally making an intro post :3

Hi, you can call me Bug! I'm an adult and while I can't control what people do on the interenet, I will give warning that due to the nature of the Resident Evil series, I'll be handling some dark topics on occasion and it's up to you to decide if you're comfortable with that or not. And hey- no hard feelings if you aren't, we're all human here and humans aren't all the same.

I'd prefer minors don't interact with my darker or more sexual posts, but I know damn well that where there's a will there's a way, so at this point we're operating on informed consent- I gave yall warnings, okay? If interacting with my blogs upsets you then that's on you, bud.

My other rp blogs are:

@umbrella-shaped-box - multimuse oc blog

@ubcs-silver-wolf - Nikolai Zinoviev

@a-cheap-knockoff - Carla Radames

Friendly to all ships (though I personally headcanon Grace as lesbian), I firmly believe fiction doesn't inform reality, go wild!

And remember kids:

[miss-ashcroft]

"It's like... waking up in reverse. You come out of the fog and wake up in the nightmare." @parasiticoyle

"Wh- uh- w-who are you?"

[parasiticoyle]

"Name's Coyle... Leland Coyle... or clone number.... 271... whatever those whitecoats call me... Don't tell em whitecoats I got outta my cell, been wantin to stretch my legs. "

@miss-ashcroft

[miss-ashcroft]

"U-uh- yeah, sure! You're actually not-not the first clone I've met, s-so I guess I can understand, from an outside perspective, anyway."

[parasiticoyle]

"Not em first... not em last. Got a big guy 2 cells down. 8 ft big fuck-o singing about what his momma always said. Fucking obsessed with sewing and finding his bride. All lunatics where we are. But... just say Coyle of Officer. Both work, darlin."

[miss-ashcroft]

"O-officer? H-how are you with the police if you're a-a clone? I didn't think they le-let you out for things like that?"

[miss-ashcroft]

"It's like... waking up in reverse. You come out of the fog and wake up in the nightmare." @parasiticoyle

"Wh- uh- w-who are you?"

[parasiticoyle]

"Name's Coyle... Leland Coyle... or clone number.... 271... whatever those whitecoats call me... Don't tell em whitecoats I got outta my cell, been wantin to stretch my legs. "

@miss-ashcroft

[miss-ashcroft]

"U-uh- yeah, sure! You're actually not-not the first clone I've met, s-so I guess I can understand, from an outside perspective, anyway."

[miss-ashcroft]

"It's like... waking up in reverse. You come out of the fog and wake up in the nightmare." @parasiticoyle

"Wh- uh- w-who are you?"

[victor-gideon]

@miss-ashcroft

She can't help but let her shoulders sag with relief when she sees the baby- safe, unharmed, healthy. She still doesn't trust Victor, absolutely not, but she's glad things at least seem fine. "C-can I, um..." Grace opens her arms as she approaches, definitely not being overcome with baby fever and needing to cuddle and coo at and squish it's little cheeks- definitely, for sure, totally.

Victor nodded, carefully placing Jude in Grace's arms as naturally as if he'd been handling newborns for years. And who knew--perhaps he had, in some respect or another...

"His name is Jude," he told her. The baby fussed slightly, having lost the smell and the feeling of his father's lukewarm arms, but Grace's natural body heat soothed him quickly enough. His little fingers flexed and curled up inside their little green mitts.

"Are you fond of children, Miss Ashcroft?"

[miss-ashcroft]

Grace holds the baby carefully, like he's made of glass and will shatter if he's handled wrong.

She's held Emily, obviously, but it's very different from holding such a small and fragile little thing.

Cooing at Jude, she almost doesn't register Victor asking her a question, blinking as her brain refreshes so she can answer.

"I-i've never actually held a-a baby before. Em-Emily is the youngest person I've ca-cared for." She responds, face softening again as she looks down at Jude.

"Somet-sometimes a case would bring a-a kid to the office but I only ever said hi in passing."

[victor-gideon]

@miss-ashcroft

Grace, admittedly, spent the entire ride here trying to talk herself out of actually going through with this. Maybe it's a trap, maybe he's once again up to weird and creepy shenanigans, maybe the kid is actually some weird bioweapon he wants to cut Grace up and feed to as a meal. None of these sound out of place where Dr Gideon is concerned. Unfortunately, the constant 'oh my god that man can't be left alone with a baby' in her head is what ultimately won out. Begrudgingly, she has to admit that the care centre could look- has looked at lot worse than this, everything seems to be safe but well, it is the entrance, god only knows what's happening further in the building. Hopefully not any weird, baby zombies or whatever the hell he's done now.

Just like the last time Grace had been to the care center, things were cleanly and bright in the central lobby. A new receptionist sat behind the desk, but aside from that, everything was the same as it had been when she'd come to check on Leon.

The receptionist smiled and offered a nametag to Grace, but before she could phone the director, he swept into the room with a perfectly choreographed ease, as if he'd been only just around the corner.

"No need, Janet, I'm right here. Miss Ashcroft, I trust the drive here was uneventful?"

He stood by the front desk, grinning ear-to-ear. His visor was nowhere in sight, giving Grace an unobstructed view of his besotted expression. And sure enough, resting in the crook of one muscular arm, was the infant, Jude. He was barely old enough to see much beyond his own nose, at least not very clearly. Still, at the sound of his "father's" voice, he opened his dark eyes and yawned, squirming slightly.

[miss-ashcroft]

She can't help but let her shoulders sag with relief when she sees the baby- safe, unharmed, healthy. She still doesn't trust Victor, absolutely not, but she's glad things at least seem fine.

"C-can I, um..." Grace opens her arms as she approaches, definitely not being overcome with baby fever and needing to cuddle and coo at and squish it's little cheeks- definitely, for sure, totally.

[miss-ashcroft]

"Hello, Grace. My name is Chris Redfield. I'm Leon's husband. I wanted to thank you for helping him out when he was so sick... You really did save his life, you know. I am grateful. Thank you. For being there for him when I couldn't be. He has a habit of keeping to himself until things get really bad... But, I won't gripe on him this time, because he has honestly gotten better at asking for help. But really, thank you very much. If I ever lost him, I don't know what I would do..."

- @chrisredfieldretiree

"Haa- he's the one that saved me, really! I-i don't think I'd still be here if it weren't for him- p-probably would've been e-eaten by a monster...that's actually how I met him- i-i was this close to being dragged away by a very big and very scary girl!"

[bluemuffin-draws]

Unexpected resident evil Yuri

[selenasrequiem]

@miss-ashcroft - "Perhaps we should dance together~! I'm looking for a new partner."

[miss-ashcroft]

"I'm not very good at dancing- but i-i could probably learn if you taught me- maybe?"

[selenasrequiem]

Coming back to the care centre is...well, it's not exactly pleasant. But at least she has a choice this time, rather then her boss sending her to 'mommy murder place' as she's seen someone put it.

Is it bad she got a chuckle out of that?

Unfortunately, her paranoia wins in terms of wardrobe- as much as Grace would love to wear something nice for their date, she can't help but worry that it'll be interrupted by a certain doctor who really should have his license revoked.

So, she wipes her sweaty hands onto her hoodie, pushing open one of the doors as she slowly peeks her head into the building, quite honestly terrified but hey, what's life without some risks, right?

...people probably mean like, rock climbing, or riding rollercoasters, not this.

- @miss-ashcroft (WAUUUGH IM SO SORRY IM LATE life has been happening to meTM. Anyway, here's Grace 'my feelings have led me places I wouldn't return to with a gun' Ashcroft for their date ^-^)

Selena was humming to herself in the bar and lounge. She appeared more cheerful than usual. She had put more effort into her appearance tonight by adding more blood to her beloved gown. The natural lighting in the care center did more than makeup could on her pale face. She twirls around excitedly as she prepared for company that night—more than the mindless zombies she spent her time performing for. Or, well, did before most had been shot dead. She took some glasses from the cabinet and chose ones that weren't cracked or shattered and filled them up with.. well, she thought it was classical wine, but it was probably no different from the red on her dress. Still, she appeared proud. She had standards! She couldn't just drink any blood.

Selena heard the entrance door open and she beamed wider. "Ah.. Here already. My, my.. my dear, you do surprise me." Selena patted down her once white dress and stood at the door awaiting with excitement for her date. An unshakeable smile on her face. It had been quite some time.

(HEYYY!! you're totally fine!!!! i hope things haven't been too overwhelming. take your time!! ^_^ i hope i did ok!!!)

[miss-ashcroft]

Grace can't help but jump at the sound, letting out an embarrassing squeak noise as the door swings shut behind her.

"H-hi! Sorry i-i didn't think you'd be here. N-not here like, like the care centre just- uh-" well, there's not exactly a polite way to say 'I expected you to be mindlessly pacing the bar and lounge like a zombie' so instead she just let's the sentence fall into nothing as she nervously wrings her hands.

Gosh, was Selena always that pretty? Grace was a little preoccupied with staying alive last time, but now that she's got the chance to really look, it's kind of scary how the blood seems to heighten her good looks more than anything...

She clears her throat awkwardly and extends a hand to shake- because apparently her brain is short circuiting and has her defaulting to the same introduction one might give a coworker.

[selenasrequiem]

Selena didn't remember much before her infection or perhaps maybe not much after. But she remembered her purpose and she remembered Grace. She remembered how nervous she was and seeing her stumble over her words made her laugh a little.

"It's a pleasure to properly meet you. The last time I saw you.. you were too frightened to say hello." Selena wasn't sad about this, she understood really. Selena took Grace's hand but she didn't shake it. Instead, she held it with comforting strength. "Please.. let's get to know eachother properly."

Selena tugged Grace inside and guided her never letting go of Grace's warm hand. It was nice in comparison to her own freezing cold ones.

[miss-ashcroft]

She laughs nervously.

"Y-yeah, the whole uh, 'everything in the building wants to kill me' thing d-did'nt make for the best environment to meet."

Grace flushes deeply at the realisation that she isn't letting her hand go, making a choked-off noise somewhat resembling a whine if you really squint.

God, maybe Grace should be the one covered in blood, it'd make her a lot less pathetic looking- and probably hide how red her face is. Maybe. Doubtfully.

She's grateful that Selenas hands are so cold, otherwise it'd amplify the way hers are clamming up like she's wearing wool in July.

[miss-ashcroft]

Another letter was taped to Grace's door overnight in a pastel colored envelope. Within this envelope, along with the letter, was a picture of a tiny, brown-skinned baby with a its dark eyes barely open. It wore a tastefully chosen beanie on its head for warmth.

The letter read:

Dearest Miss Ashcroft,

I have been negligent in my correspondence with you, and for that I ask your forgiveness. There is much more to forgive, of course, but I'd rather start out small for now.

Contained you'll find a photograph of my new son, Jude. He was born to one of my patients, who passed away during labor. I was able to save him, but unfortunately, she had already slipped away. I'm not sure how I'll be able to tell this to him, but I'll worry about that inevitability later. I didn't want to turn him over as a ward of the state. There are already enough children slipping through the cracks of our nation's foster care system. Besides, I think that you'll agree that he's objectively cute.

Zeno thinks me incapable of caring for an infant. He has threatened to tighten the leash, so to speak, and I even had to stop him from making an attempt on the little dear's life. I wouldn't trust him if I were you, and at least would avoid being alone in the same room as him.

Anyway, I suppose that I've rambled enough for one letter! I do hope to see you in the future, one way or another...

Most sincerely,

Dr. Victor Gideon

This time, at least, there were no samples of anyone's hair.

Grace feels like she's in the fucking Truman Show or something.

She sets the letter down, rubbing her temple as she sips her morning (noon) coffee, wondering just how on earth she managed to end up in this scenario.

So. Not only is Doctor Medical Malpractice in constant contact with her, he's apparently not interested in kidnapping her again- but isn't above blackmailing her into a date-, he's no longer trying to destroy the world, hopefully, and also he now has a baby?

Someone kicked a can in this timeline, she fucking knows it.

...at least the kid is cute.

...She should probably go see them, right? Pretty sure he's not a pediatric doctor so...

[victor-gideon]

As he received a message from his intel that Grace was on the move and headed in his direction, Victor was in the middle of giving Jude his first bath in a temperature-controlled basin normally used for delicate heating and cooling procedures. Nothing but the best for his little son!

After he dried him off and placed him in a little bear onesie with matching socks and hat (a little degrading for Jude, perhaps? Victor would have to think about this,) he checked his messages. His eyes went wide, and he tapped out a message to Security Manager Luke Clark immediately to make sure that none of the more unstable patients were anywhere in sight. He contacted Gerald, the chef, and told him to refrain from making anything too meat-heavy for lunch.

"Somebody special is coming to visit," he said, picking Jude up carefully after pocketing the phone.

[miss-ashcroft]

Grace, admittedly, spent the entire ride here trying to talk herself out of actually going through with this.

Maybe it's a trap, maybe he's once again up to weird and creepy shenanigans, maybe the kid is actually some weird bioweapon he wants to cut Grace up and feed to as a meal. None of these sound out of place where Dr Gideon is concerned.

Unfortunately, the constant 'oh my god that man can't be left alone with a baby' in her head is what ultimately won out.

Begrudgingly, she has to admit that the care centre could look- has looked at lot worse than this, everything seems to be safe but well, it is the entrance, god only knows what's happening further in the building.

Hopefully not any weird, baby zombies or whatever the hell he's done now.

[yrkhn]

i am so jealous of herrrrr ohhhhh

[jill-valentine-official]

Send 😭 for my muse to show up at your muse's door in the middle of the night, sobbing and/or injured.

- AGE GAP YURI!!!!! @miss-ashcroft

The op had gone sideways. Pretty normal, all things considering. It wasn't easy cleaning up after bioterrorists, especially when they left people on the scene.

Somehow, she'd stumbled away from that and she was....where was she, anyways?

Jill didn't know, fumbling her phone between bloodied fingers until she managed to get it to direct her somewhere safe.

And that put her at the front door now, fingers clutching a gun wound that was bleeding through her pants, leaning half against the door.

"Didn't know where else to go," she croaks out before toppling forward.

[miss-ashcroft]

"Ohmygodohmygodwhatthefuck-" Was, unfortunately, the best that Graces brain could come up with at the time. A fact she'll no doubt be embarrassed about later.

She tentatively reaches out to Jill, hands hovering around her like she doesn't quite know where to put them.

"A-are you hurt anywhere e-else? Holyshit do you like- need t-to lean on me? Oh my god- come in, come in!"

So much for that first aid training she got- sure, she'll be able to help with the wound, but first she needs to form at least one coherent sentence and stop panicking more than the woman who's literally bleeding on her front doorstep.

[jill-valentine-official]

Jill groans, leaning heavily on Grace. Her fingers are digging into a bullet wound that's starting to feel cold and numb — which is definitely not a good sign.

"Head," she forces out. "Possible concussion. Went through a—" she cuts herself off, hissing in pain as a stumble over the threshold jolts pain through her wounded thigh. "—wall."

[miss-ashcroft]

"Holyshit- okay, okay we can handle this, we can totally handle this."

We should call the fucking paramedics, actually. But considering Jill came here instead of going to a hospital, there's probably a good reason not to call for help.

She half carries- half drags Jill into her apartment, really wishing she'd taken Sherry up on that offer to train with her now, and sets Jill on the couch, scurrying into the kitchen nearby for the first aid kit.

Hold on, did she just say she went through a fucking wall? How the hell is she still conscious!

Deciding that chastising someone with a bullet still lodged in them is, in fact, a bad idea; she instead kneels on the floor, rummaging through the bag as she tries to run through the list of how to handle something like this.

Wait, shit, I don't even know how deep the bullet is- do I take it out? What if it hit a blood vessel or something and I make things worse by removing it?

Okay, focus, Grace. First step, gain access to the area, pull away clothing if you can, cut it if you can't.

"U-um- d-do you know ho-how deep the bullet i-is?" She asks, gingerly trying to peel Jill's shirt away from the sticky blood on her skin, feeling a little embarrassed about the whole thing despite the situation at hand.

[jill-valentine-official]

Jill squints, makes a very vague gesture with her hand, and says, "Prob'ly this deep."

Which, you know, is about the most lucid answer that could have been expected.

Her head thunks back against the head of the couch, eyes squeezing shut.

"Didn't go through," she mutters, shaking her head to try to keep herself present and woah, that's an awful sensation.

Do not throw up on Grace, she thinks to herself, though perhaps it's a much less coherent thought than she thinks it might be.

[miss-ashcroft]

"O-oh, yeah, that's super helpful." She quips under her breath, huffing a nervous laugh.

Folding Jill's shirt up above the wound, she fumbles to pour alcohol onto a rag, carefully cleaning the area around the gunshot as her eyes keep darting to Jill's face, checking to see if she's in pain.

"S-so um- wh-why'd you come here a-and not a hosp-hospital?"

[jill-valentine-official]

Jill grunts, biting back the pain she feels. Grace is....not an expert. It's pretty apparent from the way she's working, but her head is so fuzzy with the pain and the adrenaline crash that she's halfway into.

"Nurses ain't half as pretty," she slurs, brain immediately kicking in to tell her that that was absolutely not an appropriate answer and she should not have been flirting with Grace under any circumstances.

She's already put her foot in her mouth, and now, half-delirious with pain, she's unable to stop herself from completely crossing the line.

"You going to kiss it better too, sweetheart?

[miss-ashcroft]

Graces brain absolutely fucking short circuits. Full reboot, please stand by.

This, naturally, manifests in her face going beet red and her entire body freezing for no less than ten full seconds.

Focus, Grace. Just because she's delirious doesn't mean you should be joining her.

With a cartoonishly audible gulp, she decides there's no way Grace can steady her hands enough to extract an actual goddamn bullet- so the best she can do is handle the wound and let a professional handle it later.

With shaky hands, she sticks a sheet of gauze to Jills incredibly toned abs, beside that incredibly chiseled V-line and her-

Snap out of it, Grace!

"D-do you uh- do you need me to- to get you um. Get some- painkillers o-or something?" She stammers out while wrapping a bandage to keep the gauze in place, while being incredibly distracted in a way that makes her really glad this isn't her actual job, she doesn't want to imagine the HR calls she'd be getting every time a hot woman comes through-

[jill-valentine-official]

Jill's hand comes up to push hair out of Grace's face, brow furrowing intensely as she thinks.

All she can think about is how lovely Grace looks while flustered.

As soon as she's lucid and no longer bleeding out, she's sure Grace is going to file a restraining order on her. She definitely deserves it.

Jill lets her eyes trace down Grace's face, oblivious to the fact that the younger woman is obviously also checking her out, then grins a lopsided grin that's supposed to be flirty, crooking a finger to bid Grace come closer.

"Only if "or something" is you," she attempts to purr. Half the words are slurred together into incomprehensible gibberish.

Her head thunks back against the couch, perhaps finally surrendering to the adrenaline crash and the blood loss.

[miss-ashcroft]

The noise that's punched from Graces throat while she melts against Jills touch, isn't dissimilar to the pained whine of a kicked dog.

Ohmygodherhandsaresobigandstrongandwarmandiwonderhowtheyfeelwhen-

Abruptly, she straightens up and pulls herself away, squeaking in surprise as she hesitantly puts a hand on Jills shoulder, trying to shake her back into consciousness.

"H-hey- wake up! You ca- can't just say that and then pass out on me!!"

[jill-valentine-official]

Send 😭 for my muse to show up at your muse's door in the middle of the night, sobbing and/or injured.

- AGE GAP YURI!!!!! @miss-ashcroft

The op had gone sideways. Pretty normal, all things considering. It wasn't easy cleaning up after bioterrorists, especially when they left people on the scene.

Somehow, she'd stumbled away from that and she was....where was she, anyways?

Jill didn't know, fumbling her phone between bloodied fingers until she managed to get it to direct her somewhere safe.

And that put her at the front door now, fingers clutching a gun wound that was bleeding through her pants, leaning half against the door.

"Didn't know where else to go," she croaks out before toppling forward.

[miss-ashcroft]

"Ohmygodohmygodwhatthefuck-" Was, unfortunately, the best that Graces brain could come up with at the time. A fact she'll no doubt be embarrassed about later.

She tentatively reaches out to Jill, hands hovering around her like she doesn't quite know where to put them.

"A-are you hurt anywhere e-else? Holyshit do you like- need t-to lean on me? Oh my god- come in, come in!"

So much for that first aid training she got- sure, she'll be able to help with the wound, but first she needs to form at least one coherent sentence and stop panicking more than the woman who's literally bleeding on her front doorstep.

[jill-valentine-official]

Jill groans, leaning heavily on Grace. Her fingers are digging into a bullet wound that's starting to feel cold and numb — which is definitely not a good sign.

"Head," she forces out. "Possible concussion. Went through a—" she cuts herself off, hissing in pain as a stumble over the threshold jolts pain through her wounded thigh. "—wall."

[miss-ashcroft]

"Holyshit- okay, okay we can handle this, we can totally handle this."

We should call the fucking paramedics, actually. But considering Jill came here instead of going to a hospital, there's probably a good reason not to call for help.

She half carries- half drags Jill into her apartment, really wishing she'd taken Sherry up on that offer to train with her now, and sets Jill on the couch, scurrying into the kitchen nearby for the first aid kit.

Hold on, did she just say she went through a fucking wall? How the hell is she still conscious!

Deciding that chastising someone with a bullet still lodged in them is, in fact, a bad idea; she instead kneels on the floor, rummaging through the bag as she tries to run through the list of how to handle something like this.

Wait, shit, I don't even know how deep the bullet is- do I take it out? What if it hit a blood vessel or something and I make things worse by removing it?

Okay, focus, Grace. First step, gain access to the area, pull away clothing if you can, cut it if you can't.

"U-um- d-do you know ho-how deep the bullet i-is?" She asks, gingerly trying to peel Jill's shirt away from the sticky blood on her skin, feeling a little embarrassed about the whole thing despite the situation at hand.

[jill-valentine-official]

Jill squints, makes a very vague gesture with her hand, and says, "Prob'ly this deep."

Which, you know, is about the most lucid answer that could have been expected.

Her head thunks back against the head of the couch, eyes squeezing shut.

"Didn't go through," she mutters, shaking her head to try to keep herself present and woah, that's an awful sensation.

Do not throw up on Grace, she thinks to herself, though perhaps it's a much less coherent thought than she thinks it might be.

[miss-ashcroft]

"O-oh, yeah, that's super helpful." She quips under her breath, huffing a nervous laugh.

Folding Jill's shirt up above the wound, she fumbles to pour alcohol onto a rag, carefully cleaning the area around the gunshot as her eyes keep darting to Jill's face, checking to see if she's in pain.

"S-so um- wh-why'd you come here a-and not a hosp-hospital?"

[jill-valentine-official]

Jill grunts, biting back the pain she feels. Grace is....not an expert. It's pretty apparent from the way she's working, but her head is so fuzzy with the pain and the adrenaline crash that she's halfway into.

"Nurses ain't half as pretty," she slurs, brain immediately kicking in to tell her that that was absolutely not an appropriate answer and she should not have been flirting with Grace under any circumstances.

She's already put her foot in her mouth, and now, half-delirious with pain, she's unable to stop herself from completely crossing the line.

"You going to kiss it better too, sweetheart?

[miss-ashcroft]

Graces brain absolutely fucking short circuits. Full reboot, please stand by.

This, naturally, manifests in her face going beet red and her entire body freezing for no less than ten full seconds.

Focus, Grace. Just because she's delirious doesn't mean you should be joining her.

With a cartoonishly audible gulp, she decides there's no way Grace can steady her hands enough to extract an actual goddamn bullet- so the best she can do is handle the wound and let a professional handle it later.

With shaky hands, she sticks a sheet of gauze to Jills incredibly toned abs, beside that incredibly chiseled V-line and her-

Snap out of it, Grace!

"D-do you uh- do you need me to- to get you um. Get some- painkillers o-or something?" She stammers out while wrapping a bandage to keep the gauze in place, while being incredibly distracted in a way that makes her really glad this isn't her actual job, she doesn't want to imagine the HR calls she'd be getting every time a hot woman comes through-

[miss-ashcroft]

You don’t have to answer this if it’s too personal, but…

When was the last time someone took care of you for a change, Grace?

( @tiredfederalagent )

....Probably that time I had a heart attack a couple months ago.

[jill-valentine-official]

Send 😭 for my muse to show up at your muse's door in the middle of the night, sobbing and/or injured.

- AGE GAP YURI!!!!! @miss-ashcroft

The op had gone sideways. Pretty normal, all things considering. It wasn't easy cleaning up after bioterrorists, especially when they left people on the scene.

Somehow, she'd stumbled away from that and she was....where was she, anyways?

Jill didn't know, fumbling her phone between bloodied fingers until she managed to get it to direct her somewhere safe.

And that put her at the front door now, fingers clutching a gun wound that was bleeding through her pants, leaning half against the door.

"Didn't know where else to go," she croaks out before toppling forward.

[miss-ashcroft]

"Ohmygodohmygodwhatthefuck-" Was, unfortunately, the best that Graces brain could come up with at the time. A fact she'll no doubt be embarrassed about later.

She tentatively reaches out to Jill, hands hovering around her like she doesn't quite know where to put them.

"A-are you hurt anywhere e-else? Holyshit do you like- need t-to lean on me? Oh my god- come in, come in!"

So much for that first aid training she got- sure, she'll be able to help with the wound, but first she needs to form at least one coherent sentence and stop panicking more than the woman who's literally bleeding on her front doorstep.

[jill-valentine-official]

Jill groans, leaning heavily on Grace. Her fingers are digging into a bullet wound that's starting to feel cold and numb — which is definitely not a good sign.

"Head," she forces out. "Possible concussion. Went through a—" she cuts herself off, hissing in pain as a stumble over the threshold jolts pain through her wounded thigh. "—wall."

[miss-ashcroft]

"Holyshit- okay, okay we can handle this, we can totally handle this."

We should call the fucking paramedics, actually. But considering Jill came here instead of going to a hospital, there's probably a good reason not to call for help.

She half carries- half drags Jill into her apartment, really wishing she'd taken Sherry up on that offer to train with her now, and sets Jill on the couch, scurrying into the kitchen nearby for the first aid kit.

Hold on, did she just say she went through a fucking wall? How the hell is she still conscious!

Deciding that chastising someone with a bullet still lodged in them is, in fact, a bad idea; she instead kneels on the floor, rummaging through the bag as she tries to run through the list of how to handle something like this.

Wait, shit, I don't even know how deep the bullet is- do I take it out? What if it hit a blood vessel or something and I make things worse by removing it?

Okay, focus, Grace. First step, gain access to the area, pull away clothing if you can, cut it if you can't.

"U-um- d-do you know ho-how deep the bullet i-is?" She asks, gingerly trying to peel Jill's shirt away from the sticky blood on her skin, feeling a little embarrassed about the whole thing despite the situation at hand.

[jill-valentine-official]

Jill squints, makes a very vague gesture with her hand, and says, "Prob'ly this deep."

Which, you know, is about the most lucid answer that could have been expected.

Her head thunks back against the head of the couch, eyes squeezing shut.

"Didn't go through," she mutters, shaking her head to try to keep herself present and woah, that's an awful sensation.

Do not throw up on Grace, she thinks to herself, though perhaps it's a much less coherent thought than she thinks it might be.

[miss-ashcroft]

"O-oh, yeah, that's super helpful." She quips under her breath, huffing a nervous laugh.

Folding Jill's shirt up above the wound, she fumbles to pour alcohol onto a rag, carefully cleaning the area around the gunshot as her eyes keep darting to Jill's face, checking to see if she's in pain.

"S-so um- wh-why'd you come here a-and not a hosp-hospital?"

[miss-ashcroft]

Another letter was taped to Grace's door overnight in a pastel colored envelope. Within this envelope, along with the letter, was a picture of a tiny, brown-skinned baby with a its dark eyes barely open. It wore a tastefully chosen beanie on its head for warmth.

The letter read:

Dearest Miss Ashcroft,

I have been negligent in my correspondence with you, and for that I ask your forgiveness. There is much more to forgive, of course, but I'd rather start out small for now.

Contained you'll find a photograph of my new son, Jude. He was born to one of my patients, who passed away during labor. I was able to save him, but unfortunately, she had already slipped away. I'm not sure how I'll be able to tell this to him, but I'll worry about that inevitability later. I didn't want to turn him over as a ward of the state. There are already enough children slipping through the cracks of our nation's foster care system. Besides, I think that you'll agree that he's objectively cute.

Zeno thinks me incapable of caring for an infant. He has threatened to tighten the leash, so to speak, and I even had to stop him from making an attempt on the little dear's life. I wouldn't trust him if I were you, and at least would avoid being alone in the same room as him.

Anyway, I suppose that I've rambled enough for one letter! I do hope to see you in the future, one way or another...

Most sincerely,

Dr. Victor Gideon

This time, at least, there were no samples of anyone's hair.

Grace feels like she's in the fucking Truman Show or something.

She sets the letter down, rubbing her temple as she sips her morning (noon) coffee, wondering just how on earth she managed to end up in this scenario.

So. Not only is Doctor Medical Malpractice in constant contact with her, he's apparently not interested in kidnapping her again- but isn't above blackmailing her into a date-, he's no longer trying to destroy the world, hopefully, and also he now has a baby?

Someone kicked a can in this timeline, she fucking knows it.

...at least the kid is cute.

...She should probably go see them, right? Pretty sure he's not a pediatric doctor so...

[selenasrequiem]

Coming back to the care centre is...well, it's not exactly pleasant. But at least she has a choice this time, rather then her boss sending her to 'mommy murder place' as she's seen someone put it.

Is it bad she got a chuckle out of that?

Unfortunately, her paranoia wins in terms of wardrobe- as much as Grace would love to wear something nice for their date, she can't help but worry that it'll be interrupted by a certain doctor who really should have his license revoked.

So, she wipes her sweaty hands onto her hoodie, pushing open one of the doors as she slowly peeks her head into the building, quite honestly terrified but hey, what's life without some risks, right?

...people probably mean like, rock climbing, or riding rollercoasters, not this.

- @miss-ashcroft (WAUUUGH IM SO SORRY IM LATE life has been happening to meTM. Anyway, here's Grace 'my feelings have led me places I wouldn't return to with a gun' Ashcroft for their date ^-^)

Selena was humming to herself in the bar and lounge. She appeared more cheerful than usual. She had put more effort into her appearance tonight by adding more blood to her beloved gown. The natural lighting in the care center did more than makeup could on her pale face. She twirls around excitedly as she prepared for company that night—more than the mindless zombies she spent her time performing for. Or, well, did before most had been shot dead. She took some glasses from the cabinet and chose ones that weren't cracked or shattered and filled them up with.. well, she thought it was classical wine, but it was probably no different from the red on her dress. Still, she appeared proud. She had standards! She couldn't just drink any blood.

Selena heard the entrance door open and she beamed wider. "Ah.. Here already. My, my.. my dear, you do surprise me." Selena patted down her once white dress and stood at the door awaiting with excitement for her date. An unshakeable smile on her face. It had been quite some time.

(HEYYY!! you're totally fine!!!! i hope things haven't been too overwhelming. take your time!! ^_^ i hope i did ok!!!)

[miss-ashcroft]

Grace can't help but jump at the sound, letting out an embarrassing squeak noise as the door swings shut behind her.

"H-hi! Sorry i-i didn't think you'd be here. N-not here like, like the care centre just- uh-" well, there's not exactly a polite way to say 'I expected you to be mindlessly pacing the bar and lounge like a zombie' so instead she just let's the sentence fall into nothing as she nervously wrings her hands.

Gosh, was Selena always that pretty? Grace was a little preoccupied with staying alive last time, but now that she's got the chance to really look, it's kind of scary how the blood seems to heighten her good looks more than anything...

She clears her throat awkwardly and extends a hand to shake- because apparently her brain is short circuiting and has her defaulting to the same introduction one might give a coworker.