Project: Wesker

Independent Roleplay Blog Featuring Albert Wesker of the Resident Evil Series. Canon Divergent

[project-w]

@deadfuture continued: X

“And I, you.” Wesker says, reaching up to adjust his sunglasses. “Wong was always so…particular whenever your name would get thrown out.” Particular was one way to put it, having a tendency to forget where her loyalties lay and who was signing her paycheck was another.

“How are the Redfield’s these days? I do believe that you’ve maintained some semblance of a relationship with them? It is strangely entertaining to me how small the world continues to prove itself to be. Just think, If you had come just a little bit earlier to Raccoon City, we might have crossed paths. I seem to recall a banner, if I’m not mistaken? They were so pleased to get a new rookie assigned. Too bad no one got to cut the cake.” It was one of those random pieces of information that Wesker filed away. That banner. It’d been amusing when he’d first seen it.

“Although, if I’m to remember correctly. You’re not BSAA. So what brings you down here into my little parlor? All alone?”

[project-w]

     He doesn’t like the look on Wesker’s face. He has the look of someone that knows too many things and he’s waiting to turn that knowledge into weapons. Leon feels like he’s been splashed with cold water. His throat goes dry. No, he had been… on leave. What Wesker says isn’t new information. The invisible noose around his throat tightens, the chain tugs hard. His eyes narrow.

              “Good thing my yearly review hasn’t looked good in years.” Leon glances away from Wesker, searching for something. An exit he can slowly make his way toward. He’s not sure what Wesker gets out of telling him this. “Maybe they just don’t like the way you run things, ever think of that?”

    It’s a pitiful retort, but it’s all Leon has. Wesker’s right. They won’t like this at all, and they’ll find out. Leon’s not sure what the consequence for that is. He’s not sure about a lot of things in his life.

              “How about you give me the run down about what your doing here, Wesker, and we’ll see if it’s up to standard.”

“What I’m doing?” Wesker repeats, fake indignation clear in his voice. He’s enjoying this, he’s enjoying it immensely and he’s not afraid to show it. “What I’m doing is my job, Agent Kennedy. Which is what it’s always been: creating newer, smarter and more powerful bio-organic weapons for mass production, and creating devastating viruses that can be utilized in the field quickly and without the chance of true retaliation from the other side.” He arches an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me that you are still so naïve at this point in your career to not consider what the government would truly do with someone like me once they got their hands on me? Did you think they’d lock me away? Experiment on me? Whatever for? When they can give me a job. A job that I do very, very well.” He steps closer to the other man. “You know how it is, everyone wants the bigger and better stick, and nothing gets people to open their wallets and shelve their supposed morality quite like handing them exactly that.” He’s not afraid of the gun. He’s not been afraid of them for some time and so he doesn’t bother not crowding Kennedy a bit.

“Do you honestly think that all of those ‘bio-organic incidents’ were outside parties?” His voice lowers a bit, he’s got the upper hand in all areas and he knows it. “Do you truly think that my coffers and my ‘friends in high places’ will ever run dry?”

[tacticalvest]

@project-w // here.

“Simple?” Chris breathes out, huffing as he brings his forearm up to wipe the sweat off his forehead and flick it to the side. “I didn’t even know Raccoon City had training mechanisms like this...”

‘This’ being the continuous back and forth slide of the machines in front of him, their limbs rotating and blunt weapons in their mechanical hands-- a gift from the Umbrella Corporation for STARS, apparently. The whole setup looks like a trap out of a movie, but Chris looks across the expanse of machines where his captain is waiting for him, then squares his jaw in determination.

The bruises on his body are ignored. Chris hops from foot to foot, shaking his hands, and squints to memorise the timing of every moving object.

“Oh,” he starts, meeting Wesker’s gaze across the room again with a grin, “I’m gonna do good, sir, just you watch.”

Time for attempt number four-- and hopefully this time Wesker won’t have any reason to give him shit. Chris makes it halfway through the room before he gets the first blow, but catches his footing before he collapses on the floor. He lunges forward, swoops to the right, holds onto one spinning limb for half a second to propel himself in a launch...

And yells out a cheer as he heads towards Wesker with his fist outstretched for a good sparring, finally.

[project-w]

“Hey,” Chris says, his blood pumping hard and his eyes bright with challenge, “I’m not the one who decided he wanted to train his people.”

He expects his captain to deflect the first punch he throws at him, both because Wesker’s skilled and because he wants to gauge how hard he can go. Chris throws punch after punch and memorises the feel of Wesker’s fingers around his fist, memorises the amount of force used to meet him, and then lets out a ‘hyah!’ as his arm arcs in an uppercut meant to be harder than the rest.

The machines continue to whir meanwhile, their little weapons spinning in the air, and Chris knows that with one good shove Wesker can push him right back in. There’s no use in being too cocky, not even in a sparring match– and not when he wants to stop feeling like such a kid in Wesker’s eyes.

“Come on” – he stays on the offence for as long as Wesker will let him, waiting for that telltale change in the other’s body language to throw his arms up in defence next – “you promised you’d get me to my ‘full potential’, didn’t you, captain?”

“Ah, see that’s what I like about you Redfield. Always so eager to be foolish.” Not that he would admit to it if asked, but Wesker does have a little bit of fun with Redfield on the mats. The man is practically projecting his need to have Wesker’s attention on him and the others are starting to pause in their own exercise routines to watch the two go at it.

You want my attention, Chris? Well you’ve got it. Now lets see if you can handle it.

Wesker twists around Redfield, barely shifting to avoid the jabs and using the seemingly smallest effort possible to keep the other at bay. Chris throws a punch and Wesker lets it slide inches away from his face but the looks he gives say everything he’s not bothering to say out loud: ‘you’re only this close because I’m allowing it’.

There’s no need to shift to the offensive. Redfield’s got to be running on fumes. He’s been through the wringer too many times prior to stepping into the ring with him and it shows. He’s sloppier than he might think he is, slower, strained. All Wesker needs to do is stay just out of reach and Redfield will do the rest for him.

[project-w]

@deadfuture continued: X

“And I, you.” Wesker says, reaching up to adjust his sunglasses. “Wong was always so…particular whenever your name would get thrown out.” Particular was one way to put it, having a tendency to forget where her loyalties lay and who was signing her paycheck was another.

“How are the Redfield’s these days? I do believe that you’ve maintained some semblance of a relationship with them? It is strangely entertaining to me how small the world continues to prove itself to be. Just think, If you had come just a little bit earlier to Raccoon City, we might have crossed paths. I seem to recall a banner, if I’m not mistaken? They were so pleased to get a new rookie assigned. Too bad no one got to cut the cake.” It was one of those random pieces of information that Wesker filed away. That banner. It’d been amusing when he’d first seen it.

“Although, if I’m to remember correctly. You’re not BSAA. So what brings you down here into my little parlor? All alone?”

[project-w]

         Every word that comes from the man’s mouth makes Leon’s skin crawl. Wesker speaks deliberately, choosing his words like he’s placing landmines. Every one intended to bring about some kind of a reaction, or draw some information. Leon feels like he could be under a microscope. Redfield had said he was dangerous. He doesn’t rise to the bait at the mention of Ada, though he wants to ask. He always wants to know just a little bit more about his mysterious sometimes-ally.

          But he’s thrown off. The shift of the one-sided conversation taking a more specific tone. Leon gets the impression the man likes to hear the sound of his own voice. It’s not like he gives him a chance to respond to any of his rhetorical questions. Not that Leon wants to. He remembers the banner. He remembers the rasping groan as his would-be coworkers turned to attack him. The shaking of his hands as he shot the last officer. Remembers the note left on what was meant to be his desk. He can’t remember the names on the plaques anymore, it’s been too long, but Marvin’s graying skin and the wet sound of his cough–that stays with him.

                       “Yeah, too bad,” Leon says, finally. He cocks a meaningless little smirk. “Sorry to disappoint. Guess you’re only used to Redfield being on your case, huh?” And it was a damn good time for them to have separated. Figures Leon would end up crossing paths with this bastard at some point. He really needed to stop agreeing to helping Chris out. “Just thought I’d pass through. Do some sight seeing. Take a tour. You strike me as the kind of guy who has a lot of fun things worth seeing.”

“Hmm, Redfield does have a surprising little nack for showing up where I least expect him, this is true.” Wesker says with a slow nod. “Am I to understand then that Redfield is here? Running amok and potentially compromising vital research? I suppose it should not surprise me, there wasn’t a switchboard that man didn’t like to fuss with.” He looks Kennedy up and down, the amusement coming back full force.

“I do find myself becoming curious about how all this is going to play out. Have you bypassed this mission with your supervisors?” He lets that sit for a second, lets his complete casual mention of it hang in the air, lets the doubt build. He wants the full weight of what he’s about to drop on the agents lap to crush him. 

“And by that I mean that I am fully aware that you did not, because if you had then they would have never allowed you to come here. After all, what use do they have for their favorite agent coming in and mucking about with a lab currently overseen and funded by them?” He gives a disingenuous smile.

“This might not look good on the yearly review.”

[totallycorrectresidentevil]

Impudent of you to assume I will meet a mortal end

Wesker (via totallycorrectresidentevil)

[tacticalvest]

@project-w // here.

“Simple?” Chris breathes out, huffing as he brings his forearm up to wipe the sweat off his forehead and flick it to the side. “I didn’t even know Raccoon City had training mechanisms like this…”

‘This’ being the continuous back and forth slide of the machines in front of him, their limbs rotating and blunt weapons in their mechanical hands– a gift from the Umbrella Corporation for STARS, apparently. The whole setup looks like a trap out of a movie, but Chris looks across the expanse of machines where his captain is waiting for him, then squares his jaw in determination.

The bruises on his body are ignored. Chris hops from foot to foot, shaking his hands, and squints to memorise the timing of every moving object.

“Oh,” he starts, meeting Wesker’s gaze across the room again with a grin, “I’m gonna do good, sir, just you watch.”

Time for attempt number four– and hopefully this time Wesker won’t have any reason to give him shit. Chris makes it halfway through the room before he gets the first blow, but catches his footing before he collapses on the floor. He lunges forward, swoops to the right, holds onto one spinning limb for half a second to propel himself in a launch…

And yells out a cheer as he heads towards Wesker with his fist outstretched for a good sparring, finally.

[project-w]

There is one thing he will say for Chris Redfield, and that’s that the man just doesn’t know when to quit. Ahead, behind or anything in between, it seems to be outside of his capabilities.

“Yes, Chief Irons was quite amenable to the restorations to this old building, or so I heard.” Absolute nonsense was what that renovation had been, but it’s intention was to create a time wasting maze of the police station and considering how often his subordinates lost their keys and had to go around the entire building, he’d say that they managed.

‘I’m gonna do good, sir, just you watch.’

“I’m watching. I do hope you don’t disappoint me Chris. With a declaration such as that.” He does exactly as Chris has requested and watches him throw himself through it and then decide to come at him. “Still so much work to be done.” He tisks with a shake of his head but he steps forward anyways. “I suppose it falls to me to oversee it.”

[redclairy-deactivated20220201]

ACCESSING   FILE…   @project-w​   :    “ you don’t have to trust my words, but do you have any better options? “

looking   down   in   thought,   claire   let   out   a   hum   of   confusion.   something   didn’t   add   up   to   her.   just   moments   ago   claire   was   running   from   the   man   that   stood   before   her.   “   yeah,   not   like   you   tried   to   kill   me   20   minutes   ago.   ”   a   bitter   taste   was   left   in   her   mouth   as   she   crossed   her   arms.   “   i   could   think   of   10   options   that   would   be   better   than   what   you   just   said.   ”   claire   wasn’t   one   to   keep   a   grudge   but   wesker   gave   her   many   reasons   to.

[project-w]

“Kill you? Hardly Little Redfield.” Wesker all but purrs at her. “If I wanted you dead twenty minutes ago, we both know that you’d be dead.” He lets a smirk slowly cross his face.

“What happened twenty minutes ago was a fluke. You surprised me. Consider it old habits dying hard. Do me a favor and try not to take it to heart?” He pulls out a keycard and swipes it, making the elevator doors next to where he’s standing open.

“Now, you can decide to take up one of those ten other options, or you can get into the elevator and avoid getting swept up in this containment breach. Which would you prefer?”

[project-w]

@deadfuture continued: X

“And I, you.” Wesker says, reaching up to adjust his sunglasses. “Wong was always so…particular whenever your name would get thrown out.” Particular was one way to put it, having a tendency to forget where her loyalties lay and who was signing her paycheck was another.

“How are the Redfield’s these days? I do believe that you’ve maintained some semblance of a relationship with them? It is strangely entertaining to me how small the world continues to prove itself to be. Just think, If you had come just a little bit earlier to Raccoon City, we might have crossed paths. I seem to recall a banner, if I’m not mistaken? They were so pleased to get a new rookie assigned. Too bad no one got to cut the cake.” It was one of those random pieces of information that Wesker filed away. That banner. It’d been amusing when he’d first seen it.

“Although, if I’m to remember correctly. You’re not BSAA. So what brings you down here into my little parlor? All alone?”

[project-w]

That moment when...

You make a rules page and a bio page...and then forget to make buttons to them on the main page. 

[project-w]

“  wow.  you’re a dick.  ” // STARS era teasing? post-spencer mansion Seriousness? i'm... easy...

“Basic vulgarity, the wit of the uninspired. You’re nothing if not predictable, Chris.” Wesker says, amusement dripping from his tone as he looks at the other. “Don’t tell me that you can’t manage a simple training exercise? Are you trying to get me to lower my expectations for my men?” He arches an eyebrow at him. "Again?"

[blackcatrph]

☞☞ quotes i found on pinterest sentence starters pt. one ☜☜

“  i’ve polished this anger and now it’s a knife.  ” 

“  i’m fine, i’ve had worse.  ”

“  death too must be earned.  ”

“  how do you destroy a monster without becoming one ?  ”

“  am i a bad person ?  ”

“  family isn’t who you’re born with, it’s who you’d die for.  ” 

“  are you flirting or starting a fight ?  ”

“  i’ll survive, somehow i always do.  ”

“  um.. that’s my emotional support knife collection.  ”

“  tell me; would you kill to save a life ?  ”

“  i am someone who did not die when they should of.  ”

“  i’ve never been good at emotional stuff. except anger. i’m good at anger.  ”

“  you can’t protect everyone !  ”

“  i have to try.  ”

“  turn the pain into power.  ” 

“  what doesn’t kill me better run.  ”

“  are monster born or created ?  ”

“  chin up kid, they’d kill to see you fall.  ”

“  if he puts his hands on you, cut them off.  ”

“  i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me.  ”

“  don’t play games with me. don’t ever think you’re capable of that.  ”

“  the question isn’t who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me.  ”

“  something had made your eyes go cold.  ”

“  you haven’t even seen my bad side yet.  ”

“  everybody knows that i’m a mess.  ”

“  i’m sorry i let you down.  ”

“  well, if it isn’t the feeling i was trying to avoid.  ”

“  you are not your father.  ”

“  even on your bad days, be kind.  ”

“  you don’t want me and i need to accept that.  ”

“  stay gentle. everyone is at war.  ”

“  the risk i took was calculated. but clearly i am bad at maths.  ”

“  i wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness ?  ”

“  always be a little kinder than necessary.  ”

“  kind words cost nothing.  ”

“  i am being perfectly fucking civil.  ”

“  we’ll never be those kids again.  ”

“  i’m the original family disappointment.  ”

“  if karma doesn’t hit you, i fucking will.  ”

“  if you can’t be happy, at least you can be drunk.  ”

“  you can talk to me, or not talk to me, but i’m here.  ”

“  guess you’ll just have to fight me.  ”

“  i never asked to be like this.  ”

“  wow.  you’re a dick.  ”

[lilientrish]

Are you saying I was manufactured? for @ilsirya

[angel-sephiroth]

“Poor performance indeed.”

[omurizer-draws-things]

[project-w]

Excella: I'm in my dressing gown.

Wesker: Yes, you are.

Excella: There's a man in my bedroom.

Wesker: Yes, there is.

Excella: Anything could happen.

Wesker: ...No. [leaves]