AKIVA MEIR RESIDENT EVIL OC
Akiva Meir is 19āstill young enough that his face hasnāt fully decided what āadultā looks like, except for the parts the world forced onto him early. His blonde hair scruffier into a messy ponytail yet the man proffered to keep it down. To tuck away another reminder that he isnāt human. He never was. The Nemisis virus is in him, alive and busy, but it didnāt remake him into a clean, cinematic monster. It left him in the ugly in-between: breathing, thinking, hurting, and visibly marked. His skin now ruined from the bites, scratches, and burns. Yet the Nemesis virus sealed the wounds, covered the scars, and regenerated everything but the humanity Akiva had left. He was now finding anything, rotten, rodent, or else to eat; something to satisfy to humanity or lack of. When needed, Akiva is able to make anything out of weapon, even if that means throwing himself into it without a plan. Humanity has struggled against Akiva for years, tugging at the strings to hopefully find some sense of human within the decayed, broken, and mutated boy.
The bite marks are what people notice first. Not one or twoādozens, layered like a history written into his skin. Old bites have healed into raised, pale scars with tooth-shaped ridges; newer ones are darker, bruised, and angry around the edges, as if his body canāt decide whether to seal the wounds or keep fighting them. Some are arranged in frantic clusters on his forearms and shoulders where he used to shove zombies off, where their teeth found purchase through torn sleeves. Others sit in places that make observers flinchāalong his ribs, at the curve of his neck, the soft inside of his bicepāevidence of how close heās been to being dragged down.
He moves like someone who learned to conserve pain. Thereās a carefulness in how he turns his torso, how he lifts his arms, like certain stretches tug at scar tissue that never softened properly. When heās calm, heās almost quiet about itāhead slightly lowered, eyes always tracking exits, hands either in pockets or wrapped around something solid. When adrenaline hits, the Nemesis infection shows itself: a subtle sharpening. His pupils lock in faster, his breathing steadies instead of panicking, and his body runs hot, fever-warm under the skin. He heals wrongāfast enough to survive, slow enough to suffer, and never cleanly. To cover up, Akiva manages to retrieve a dark green hoodie from one of the alleyways he escaped from, taking it off a corpse itself. Besides the jacket, he is always in some sort of ripped clothing and bandages around his neck, throat, and hands.
Akiva knows what the marks make people think. Some see him as contaminated. Others see him as proof of something worse: that you can be bitten again and again and still not turnā¦ which means you might be something else entirely. He lives with that tension in every conversationāpulling his sleeves down in safe rooms, rolling them up on purpose when he needs to be believed, and trying not to look at anyone too long when they stare at his scars like theyāre counting how many times he shouldāve died. The constant worry that someone would experiment on him, finding out his secret.
Under the fear and the grim anatomy, heās still 19. He still has the reflex to laugh at the wrong time, to get stubborn when someone talks down to him, to go quiet when a memory hooks behind his ribs. The Nemisis virus didnāt erase himāit just made his survival visible. Every bite mark says the same thing in a different way:
Yet he heals in ways that are just wrong, wrong for all the right reasons. Akiva Meir, a blond man who had been in the hands of the wrong man; Umbrella Scientists. Even at this point, TerraSave couldnāt save him. They would probably leave him in the dust just like the others who āpromised to save himā
The boy no longer speaks unless spoken to, his social status miserable , and his hunger left unquenched. His hunger for answers, who left him in the chamber of torture for years, why did they choose him to become the next victim fall to Umbrella. Even now, he was unaware of names, faces, and hadnāt seen the light of day except flashing lights within the laboratory.
Akiva knows that there is going to be another time that he is going to be held captive, going to be interrogated, and forced to show the monster inside of him. To this day, he clings to the hope that someone would just look at him and not see a horrible monster who can and has killed either on command or out of blind insanity.
@red-winged-claire (a little surprise for you)
