@curatinghumanity
♥
[What a hell of a way to meet someone.]
Has he even met this one before? Not recently enough to recall a name. Not that it seems to do anything for the feeling that has tethered inside to his insides.
As he watches through a large gap in the walls of the Omond estate, watching him shiver and fumble over the loose hanging wires of a generator he is desperately trying to fix, the thought that perhaps that should be one of the things he asks first crosses his otherwise clouded mind.
Right. Time to make introductions then.
Any of the others have scattered the moment they glimpsed him, imposing as he so often looked against the snowy backdrop of this particular realm. Though none of them seemed to pay any mind at all about the way the Mastermind's attention is directed towards one thing. - One person rather.
Weskers boots make no sound across the wood floor. Only a soft rustle easily mistaken for the window outside, is there to warn before he has reached forward, gutting the generator when he takes the wiring from Elliott's hands and yanks it. Normally he does not care about undoing the work of the survivors. Their feeble repairs pass by him unnoticed. But something about ruining this one's work, well that excites him.
“Your name.” He demands, grasping the back of Elliott as if he might somehow manage to get away. “What is your ń̸͈á̵͕m̴͕̐ė̷̦ ̵͓͆.”
