#enviral

[godblooded]

@enviral out here never having written with me on that blog and yet one single ask and doctor alana bloom is in love with Leon Scott Kennedy.

[ubcs]

does nikolai do the slav squat? asking for research purposes ofc

absolutely he does. that is the only appropriate way.

[priceforeverything]

there's an extremely ornate box waiting on nikolai's front stoop. impeccably tied ribbons, the works. inside that box is another box. and inside that box is another box. and inside that box-- well. you get the drift. finally, when the last box is open, there's not another box to be found. just a hi-def picture of a man's hand giving the middle finger. that's all. the back of the picture simply says: ' pucker up. - l.k. '

Nikolai is hoping that it's one of the many packages he orders but then again, he's paranoid. After a good scan and no explosive residue comes up he starts opening. And then opening some more. At some point, a large cat wanders over and starts climbing into the boxes.

The so-called present actually gets a loud laugh from him, and he has to wipe the tears from his eyes. Now, this is what one would call a good prank as far as he's concerned. That being said, he will make sure if he does run into Mr. Kennedy that he gives him a nice little slice of payback.

[godblooded]

when next alana arrives home, she’ll find a slender, lengthy black box tied with a pale blue ribbon propped up beside her front door.  the packaging is far more nondescript than what lies within -- a bottle of rare champagne, made and sold strictly in italy.  alongside it is a sleek black cane (oil - black ebony, polished and sturdy, with garnet accents) that feels... slightly heavier than normal.  a discreetly hidden button detaches the wooden portion to reveal a sharp blade, just longer than a dagger, connected to the handle.  the attached note reads:  ' to celebrate and protect you and yours.  -  l.k. '

the trepidation that’s beat-beat-beating in her chest is constant-- thump, thump, thump, thump. for a moment, she’s overtaken by a wave-- a wave of fear. the box is elegant, something beautifully crafted and thought about, wrapped in the trappings of equivalent beauty. she reminds herself over and over and over again that hannibal is locked in a cage for the rest of his natural life, never to be heard or seen again by the outside world unless fredrick chilton chooses to let it in. that’s where he is. he’s not here. she repeats it to herself under her breath over and over. hannibal is incarcerated. hannibal is incarcerated. hannibal is incarcerated. 

she says this sentence a hundred times a day. 

she opens the door and kicks it to hold it open with her foot, taking the enormous present in with her as she drags it. the door sways, creaks, squeals, and clicks shut as she tugs the buttercup yellow front door closed. 

she only knows one other man with impeccable taste.

the pack spills down the stairs to the tune of a thousand little clicks and crashes. wood is stricken continuously by those paws, eager to greet their mother with great zeal. the pups always receive her with a warmth that makes her glow, and she immediately greets each and every. she gives hugs and kisses and takes it as a good sign guinefort doesn’t stray to the box lugged onto the table. okay. she floats over to open it. she knows she’s stalling. 

her throat feels like it’s going to swell shut. she has to take a minute to realize she hasn’t been poisoned as she undoes the ribbon, slowly pulling the lid off. 

what gleams back at her is stunning. it’s sleek, something that perfectly suits her repertoire of frightfully dangerous-looking outfits designed to intimidate with flourishing ease. this certainly lends to such a thing. when she discovers the button, the ah! she lets out is inadvertent, but a delighted smile crosses her face. she admires it, holds it up to the light. 

no. this isn’t hannibal’s work. hannibal never recognized how deadly she could be. he didn’t want to consider it of her. why would he...? what attracted him to her most had been the dove’s coo of a voice and the kittenish sweetness of her face. when she reads the note from @enviral​, she touches it with fingertips so careful they might not even imprint the very invisible skin none can perceive. they might not even leave evidence she was there. a red-lipped smile crosses her face. 

“ yeah, “

she breathes out in a soft sigh, her eyes crinkling at their creases. her smile spreads further and sue her if her heart makes precisely one little leap, 

“ me and mine. ”

[alphateamsfinest]

he knows she's been through a lot. they all have, in one way or another. shared trauma without fully understanding each other's individual experiences. after the incident in africa, and the time she spent as a figurative and literal puppet in wesker's grasp, she's needed time to recover. he gets that. but stuck in a hospital bed while they ensure all of wesker's toxins are flushed from her system... that's no way to spend any day, let alone one with which she shares a name. they aren't allowing visitors, but he pulls a few strings to have something discreetly delivered -- a large, at - home korean hot pot. a whole meal, at the push of a button. there's a small note attached to the utensils packet: ' nothing's worse than hospital food. we'll have the real deal when you get out. - l.k. '

Jill is starting to lose track in here as days turn to weeks. Every day feels like the last, there's nothing to break up the monotony of it, no friends or colleagues to see. Blood gets drawn, scans, and constant questions most of which she doesn't have the answers to. She can't explain what she doesn't know and all she can do is detox. The doctors give her prognoses and tell her what they expect but they never make any guarantees.

Jill's tired already today and is ready to just pace in her room when she's brought back, but instead, she's greeted with this. At first, she assumes they must have brought her to the wrong room- but the note says it isn't. It's a gesture that's kinder than any she's received here and brings a tear to her eye. The note is held close for a moment and it's enough. It's enough to get her through another day and this food is certain to give her a little more strength for tomorrow.

[embodies]

send 💬 for a starter with a randomly generated line of dialogue. ↪ @enviral​ : for alisha. accepting.

❛ spare some change, please ? ❜ her voice takes on a whiny plea, eyes growing wide with the thought of a request. it would be too far to jut her lower lip out in petulant yearnng but she’s half tempted to do it anyway. half. her attitude quickly flips though, back to her usual ( and quite blunt ) self in an instant, shoulders lifting upward in a non - committal shrug. ❛ what ? i figured if you’re gonna have me out here picking up rubbish like a bloody homeless person, i might as well act the part an’ all. ❜ her words are accentuated by lifting the litter - picker upward and snapping the plastic claws in the face of the other. undeterred, she picks up another crinkled drinks can and slams it — with more force than necessary — into the bag.

[priceforeverything]

' i'm not really offering you a choice here, pal. ' to jake. :v

Welcome to Raccoon City

"Pal? How many cop movies have you watched, Secret Agent Ken?" Jake just barely resists an eye roll, but at least it probably won't come to blows, if only for Sherry's sake. But he won't let him push him around either way and runs his tongue over the back of his teeth, scoffs but doesn't resist.

Having people actually after him and people know about him in some respect that isn't his impressive track record is fucking weird. Jake just stays in close enough proximity to Leon, enough to make most people nervous. It's clearly a test, either trying to agitate the other into leaving him alone or get him to come to blows, he's fine with whichever choice. "So what now, you're my escort of the day? You're not usually my type- at least tell me I get a happy ending at the end?"

[barbarapicci]

#Streetart by #VariousGould @variousandgould in #Niemegk, Germany, for #ENVIRAL @enviral_ More pics at: https://barbarapicci.com/2021/11/21/streetart-various-gould-niemegk-germany/ #arte #art #graffiti #murals #murales #arteurbana #urbanart #muralism #muralismo #cultureisfreedom #artisfreedom #curiositykilledtheblogger #artblogging #photooftheday #artaddict #artistsoninstagram #artcurator #artwatchers #artcollectors #artdealer #artlover #contemporaryart #artecontemporanea https://www.instagram.com/p/CWl9CjyItkt/?utm_medium=tumblr