derailing | CASE 5 DEATH THREAD SHENANIGANS

CASE 5 DEATH THREAD SHENANIGANS

[It's Thursday night, late at night, and Nozomi doesn't know what to do. There's entirely the possibility that the monitors are bluffs like everyone suggested at the meeting. At the same time, none of that is helping her get to sleep. She sits down in the media room, right in front of the monitor. It's fine. No one else is here. She might not be willing to do anything about it, but she can have the night to regret it, at least.

Maybe someone else will end up killing tonight. That would stop it, right? Or is it only winning that will spare them? -No, no, she shouldn't be thinking like this. What's wrong with her? She can't kill someone- let alone twenty-one people, let alone Sakura, or Wheatley, or Maidson or Wesker or Rin- for something like this. She's not even sure if she could manage it if she decided to. Maybe it's better to just head back in her room.

But she can't bring herself to leave the image of her siblings, so there she is, silent and motionless, looping the same thoughts over and over in her head.]

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[Wesker has told Krauser to stay in his own room tonight.

It's more convenient that way, for everyone involved - there's less risk that Krauser will try to stop him if he's not in the same room, there's less risk that anyone will find out what he's doing in the first place, he'll have time alone to prepare himself mentally for what he's about to do. And that latter part...well, it takes a while, longer than he'd really like to acknowledge. But this is for the best, isn't it? Everything will fall into place, it always does - and in the end, he'll get what he wants.

(what is it that you really want? an exciting life? a life without humans? what a fucking insipid question.)

He leaves his room. Begins making rounds.

It's not unlike the inventory rounds he did the first few weeks they were all here, when there were thirty of them (twenty-eight, twenty-six) and they weren't all wallowing in their misery and their shame and their self-defeat; he has no doubt that someone will be out tonight, the incentive is too strong for people to do otherwise. Perhaps it will be the Matou girl; perhaps it will be George, or Pizzazz, or any number of people who reacted poorly to everything that's happened here. Perhaps it will be someone else out here for the same reason he is; he wouldn't put it past a few people, actually, to be here for that reason.

He isn't expecting Nozomi; in hindsight, he isn't sure why he isn't expecting Nozomi.

He moves through force of habit, pressing back against the outside wall to avoid being easily seen, before he allows himself to move enough to place her within his line of sight; he'll watch for a moment from there until something shifts and forces him to move - he wasn't expecting Nozomi, but he doesn't regret that it's Nozomi, either. If anything, it seems fortune is on his side tonight; she's...

He shakes the beginnings of that thought off; the infirmary is easily accessed from the hallway, and he's familiarized himself enough with the place to know exactly where he should be looking.

Drawing blood isn't a new experience for him, though doing it one-handed, on himself, is going to be a bit awkward; he'll manage either way, he's sure.

As long as she remains fixated on the monitors for now, it'll be fine.]

[She isn't particularly inclined to go anywhere. She doesn't even begin to notice Wesker by the door. The only movement she really does is to check some of the other monitors. If someone died tonight, it would protect everyone's loved ones, wouldn't it? But there's no saying that trying rule seven is enough, either...

She places her elbows on the desk and puts her hands straight through her hair.]

This is a really low blow, Transmitter-san...

[Whatever Wesker's planning, he has the perfect opportunity.]

[The blood flows quickly, and transferring it where he needs it to go - from his body to the vials and from the vials to the syringe - is much easier once he's gotten the butterfly needle out of his vein and doesn't have to deal with keeping it still. He's taken one of the larger syringes from the kits, both because it'll be a bit more suited to his purposes and because to be blunt, now isn't quite the time for subtlety. The speed of the lower gauge will be useful, and it isn't as though the pain will matter for very long, in the end.

When he returns to the media room, she's still there, and she's still focused on the monitors. Muttering to herself. Guard down.

Stupid, really.

Most of his kills nowadays are either from a distance or administered in a fight; it's been a while since it was straightforward like this. But this is what Umbrella used him for, for a long time - enter quickly and quietly, take the one strike you have, be clean about finishing it and make sure you've gotten as much out of the followthrough as you can. Granted, this is likely going to be more difficult on that latter bit just due to the nature of the thing; it isn't stabbing or strangulation or a gunshot, after all.

He moves forward, the action brisk and almost silent but not quite - though if her attention remains down that shouldn't be a problem - and he shifts the syringe where he'd palmed it, preparing it for injection in one quick movement, and for a brief moment he's reminded of the plane before the crash, and of Alice writhing on the White House floor-

Normally he'd go for the neck; if this goes badly and she bruises, he has no doubt that someone will try to figure out what's going on there and he doesn't want to end this prematurely.

So. Aiming low it is. Trying to hit somewhere normally covered by fabric, preferably.

...That doesn't give him a lot of options when it comes to Nozomi, does it.

At least he isn't known for hesitation; one hand slips around to clamp over her mouth so she won't alert anyone else in the building if someone is trying to kill someone. He pulls her back against the chair so she won't thrash quite as easily, pressing her head back into his chest; the warmth from the fever is likely something familiar to her, as is the leather from his gloves.

As for the syringe... It's not his first choice in location for an injection site, not for this particular thing, but it'll work well enough - he rather abruptly jabs her directly in the butt with it, piercing both fabric and skin with the force of it and pressing down, forcing the contents out and into her body as quickly as possible.]

Mrrph!

[She doesn't let out persistent screaming so much as one surprised- and pained- yelp, although it doesn't really matter when it's muffled like that anyway. She's not sure what that sharp pain is, but whatever it is, it definitely isn't good, and even if she very much can recognize that that sort of heat and leather feeling can only really come from one person, that doesn't stop her from both trying to bite his hand and swerve her ass to stop him from doing whatever the hell he's doing to her damn butt.]

[He doesn't flinch when she bites at him; if anything, he just uses the slight degree that gets him to loosen up a little as leverage to jerk her back harder against him, the meaning behind the motion clear.

Stop that.]

Hold still - if I wanted you dead I would have broken your neck and been done with it. Relax, and I'll let you go.

[She considers continuing to jerk around and try to get free anyway, but... Alright, fine. She doesn't have any leverage here. She'll stay still for now, but she definitely isn't happy about it and clenches her fists.]

Mrrf mmph mrrgh--?

[What are you doing? Not that she can really make that out at the moment.]

[He'll give her a second after she stops thrashing around, just to make sure she won't start up again as soon as he lets her go; it gives him enough time to finish what he's doing with the syringe, anyway, before he withdraws it.

(It's fortunate, he's fairly sure, that he chose to do this through fabric - that's definitely going to bruise, what with all the twisting around she was doing.)

He does let her go, though, bringing his gloved hand back to wipe it against his coat before settling it on her shoulder for a moment.]

Better. Do you want to try that again...?

[She falls forward into the desk; the motion seems a little exaggerated, maybe, but she needs a moment to be hunched forward and hit record on her cassette tape without drawing much attention to it's spot, nested in her chest. It's a damn good thing she brought it. ...Maybe if she kept it by her butt... No, he would have just jabbed her on the other side, right? He might have wrecked the thing, too.

Either way, she puts a hand on her butt and braces herself on the table with her other, not yet turning around other than to try to look up at him.]

What did you do?

[He moves then, stepping around beside her as opposed to directly behind; it makes for better ease of conversation that way, at least.

He shifts his hand again as he does so, changing his grip on the needle again so she can see it momentarily before he palms it.]

Don't worry, you'll be fine for several hours yet. If the others I've infected have been any indication, that is - you'll have to forgive me for not knowing for sure, my memories are still a bit broken-up in places.

[She sort of just... puts her arms closer to herself. He what?]

Infected with what? What are you talking about?

[She turns to face him and scoots back in the process; what the hell did he do? If he's trying to kill her, it would be so much easier to just... Kill her, wouldn't it?]

We've all had our little secrets here, haven't we? That incentive a couple of weeks ago wouldn't have shaken up quite as many people as it did, otherwise - and really, the old man did me a favor in acting on it before I could.

But it seems that even the Transmitter was content to allow me to keep a few things to myself.

[It's difficult to tell what he's looking at - those dark glasses of his are still on, after all. But for all appearances, he's staring rather steadily at her.]

I told you back during that insipid little Truth or Dare game of yours that Umbrella is seeking a way to move forward - to herald a new dawn for our species. I'm afraid that that wasn't entirely true... But it hardly matters anymore, because we've done better.

We haven't found a way to cure humanity; we've found a way to transcend it.

[His voice has remained calm and even throughout this entire discussion, if it can even be called that; there's something odd and pressured behind it as he continues, however. It isn't the strange sense of passion that had entered his words during the speech he's referring to from a few weeks ago - it's more intense than that, a sense of something almost like anger coloring his words despite the confident expression crossing his features.

It's an odd juxtaposition. Unnatural, almost.]

The t-virus has given me more power than I could have possibly imagined - at the price of my humanity, certainly, but that was something that I was more than willing to give up. After all, I've hated your lot for a while; it's been repulsive to me, being considered one of you here.

You're absolutely loathsome.

[He twitches a bit; another one of those sharp tics. It takes him a moment to settle.]

But you... I've given you a chance to join me. One in ten million. Maybe you'll be lucky. And if not, you'll still be preferable to what you were.

Either way, you won't be coming out of this human. If all works out, no one here will.

[This... This is completely insane. At least she could sort of follow the logic with Nachetanya. At least she sounded like a damn person. But this? What the hell is she supposed to do with any of this? Should she have expected this from Wesker? No... Who the hell could expect this? One in ten million?

What the hell is she supposed to do with any of this?]

What makes you think that I'll let you get away with this?

[She can't let him do that. Not to Sakura, not to... Damn, she's really in a pinch here, isn't she? She tries to keep confident, but starts backing up some more.]

I've already won, either way.

[It's...almost disturbingly casual, the way he says it. Like he's commenting on the weather being particularly nice today.]

I suppose, if I really wanted to speed up the process, I could kill you now and be done with it - we would find out quickly if you're like me, or if you're like Alice, or if you're like all the rest. But even if I don't kill you personally, you'll die eventually. And then you won't have to worry about it anymore.

It's better this way, that I came across you first. The chances are in your favor, after all, in that now you won't have to watch your friends die.

[Now she won't have to watch her friends die? Is that supposed to be comforting? She shakes her head and puts her hand right down her boobs. Everything he's saying is deeply unsettling, but it doesn't quite make it to her head. Not with the rush of the situation, and not with how much she acknowledges that she needs to keep it together.]

Well, that's all I needed to hear. Sheesh, you really do like sounding like some kind of anime villain, huh?

[She pulls out the recorder- she'll give him a moment to see it, but nothing more before it's clasped firmly in her hand.]

Let's try a different script.

I don't really get what's going on, but I don't have to. I just have to make it until morning.

[She swings around a desk, positioning one of the computer towers between her and Wesker, and then, with very little warning, she slams her ass right into the thing, sending it right towards Wesker.]

And don't think I won't do everything in my power to get in your way until then!

Edited 2017-07-07 04:54 (UTC)

[Wh- ]

You are completely misunderstanding the-

[Not like that thought matters, that sure is a piece of computer equipment coming at him and he's not entirely sure how that even started happening, but the fact of the matter is that he does what he usually does when things are coming at him.

That is to say, he's a simple creature that enjoys punching things, and he's got the stopping power of a goddamn brick wall across a busy highway.

The strike connects easily with the tower, and rather than that action going poorly in the way that one might expect, the tower rather summarily doesn't win - the metal casing surrounding it breaks, the components inside cracking and sparking in protest, and it would seem that we're now down one computer.

Wesker, for his part, throws what remains of the tower to the ground, shaking it off roughly like it was nothing more than a minor irritation. His right wrist is dripping blood, he can feel it seeping into the leather of his clothes, but for the time being he can't say that he cares.]

You're going to have to do a bit better than that, if you want to complete your asinine little goal.

[...Holy shit, he just punched a damn computer, because of course he did. Okay.]

I don't know if you noticed, but assinine is my specialty!

[Solution: keep slamming computers at him. This time, she's slamming a monitor at him, and then another, and- where the hell is the damn doorway out of here, there isn't nearly enough room in here.]

You are making this infinitely worse on yourself -

[God, why do you keep doing this with the computers, are you some sort of idiot...

At the very least he doesn't just punch these things on reflex, blocking is acceptable as well, anything to keep them from connecting with his damn head.]

Lashing out at me isn't going to help your situation any, surely you know that?

[She is absolutely running out of monitors, but that doesn't stop her from continuing to try to hit him with them anyway. If he's not even flinching at the computers, it's best to avoid taking him head on, isn't it?]

I don't care! I'm not letting you turn everyone into your science project!

[Let's try a head on attack anyway. She vaults herself over the mostly cleared table and tries to slam him with her ass, because this is his life now.]

[The problem with that sort of attack, Nozomi, is that it puts you at extremely close proximity to him and his reflexes are very, very good.

He's able to twist around her, to ensure she doesn't hit him straight-on, and he's quick to grab her - he's got his arm high across her chest, pinning her back against him again.]

Science project? Please. This stopped being about that a long time ago.

[It occurs to him, vaguely, that he's got no idea where the syringe has ended up; it's a secondary detail for now, something that he really can't be bothered to give a fuck about, what matters is that he's absolutely going to use his free hand to break this girl's neck if he has any say because damn, this is annoying.]

Hip up!

[That's probably not the banter Wesker was expecting, but it's the banter he receives as Nozomi slams her hips (and butt) as harshly as possible in an upward motion- and straight into Wesker's crotch.]

[All right, well! That will...definitely get him to let go and stagger back a couple of steps from her, because apparently that is not quite as much of a no-sell as everything else she's tried to throw at him so far.

Seriously, who does that-]

[That seems to have gotten through to him, but it also hurts, and it makes the difference between the two of them pretty damn clear. She might be able to keep up with him for a while, but she's going to have to use her head if she wants to win this.

Either way, she keeps the pressure on, this time twisting around and jumping up to hit him with her breasts.]

Shoryucans!

[Between the shouting and the hit, it's certainly enough to get him to back the hell up, because this woman just hit him in the face with her tits and he is admittedly not sure what to do with that, hold on -]

What are you doing?

[No, really, we're going to pause this because what are you doing.]

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