Getting busy...

[sunglassesincluded]

WHO: Wesker & You~
WHERE: Whale Comb Sent Her // Temba Restoration Coordination // Hospital
WHAT: Settling in, acquiring stuff, seeking out people...
WHEN: Mid January-ish
WARNINGS: It's Wesker. Expect death threats. At least he's trying to take his meds.

Whale Comb Sent Her // New Tick

The noise message he had received over his phone is not the reason for Wesker's presence at the Whale Comb Sent Her. It's rather a coincidence based on necessity that has the tall man clad entirely in black very focused on typing a very meticulous string of instructions into the replicator. He has learned by now that the uses for this device are limited and at the moment he very much can't afford making any mistakes. Or having them happen by lacking instructions.

Oddly enough the place seemed very capable of recreating other things without needing any instructions whatsoever. Like his old S.T.A.R.S. uniform that, for whatever reason, was waiting for him there, wrapped up in a labeled box among several other similar boxes. At least it's a change of clothing should he need it. While the replicator went to work on Wesker's finished input, the man finds himself with some spare time to look around further. Of course he has already taken note of the packages filled with sparklers. And of course he has already made plans to take a bunch of them with him. He knows very well what he can do with some sulfur.

But what rather pulls his attention towards it is the data point located in the building. Another one of those. Wesker frowns and hears himself ask aloud while stepping up to it. "And what are you for?"

Hospital

He is overdue and he can feel it. Wesker is an imposing person on any average day and his purposeful stride and the palpable tension radiating off his very being up to his tightly clenched jaw doesn't lessen this impression at all as he steps into the building labeled as hospital on the map. For a hospital it's surprisingly empty, but given the short list of locals that isn't necessarily surprising. In several ways he's quite glad about it. It means no one will see him stalk through the hallways and search the rooms in part to get an idea how well the building is equipped but also to locate what he needs.

By the time Wesker has managed to find some sterile syringes it has become more than obvious that course nothing here is of the standart he is used to working with, but he will have to make due. He is already feeling dizzy in a way he hasn't felt in years. That nothing is around to watch him slump down onto an empty chair may be a blessing. For once he actually feels sick, which hasn't happened in all these years since he worked out the proper formula to stabilze his virus. Of course this place would throw a wrench into that as well.

Wesker lets out a low growl laced with frustration but manages to fish the result from his replicator use out of one of his pockets. A small, unassuming bottle. No label on it but filled with a faintly pink liquid. Enough serum for several applications at least, which gives a little reassurance.

"Focus." He instructs no one but himself and fishes out the syringe he has picked up in one of the surrounding rooms.

Temba Restoration Coordination


Reeve's office is another place Wesker has been told about. Apparently the rebuilding efforts of the city are being coordinated here as the nasme suggests and that's precisely why Wesker has decided to seek the man out. Or at least to see if he is in his office. Naturally there is no guarantee for that, which doesn't mean that Wesker won't simply let himself in either way.

The inside does, indeed, convey the idea that rebuilding efforts are being planned here and Wesker will spend some time studying the different plans, sketches, maps and whichever further information he can gather in this place. It's only when he picks up approaching footsteps that he takes his attention off the papers.

Comments

space hospital

[knightlyperformance]

By the time Marc comes to the hospital Wesker's already finished going through the rooms in search of what he needed. Marc's not here for anything nearly as dire, although he doesn't quite remember the layout of the place when it comes to where medical supplies might be stored. Just a roll of bandages for a first aid kit Steven had suggested wouldn't be a bad idea, 'especially given your tendency to get into trouble,' he'd said. Not that Marc could refute that.

He's squinting into a dusty cabinet when he hears the sound of someone else around. It's not the most pleasant sound either, but it instantly puts him on the alert as he closes up the empty cabinet, head turned towards the hall. Slowly he starts out of the room and towards the source of the- ah, a voice.

"'llo?" he calls out cautiously as he heads down the corridor. "You all right in there?"

[sunglassesincluded]

Despite being somewhat preoccupied, Wesker doesn't miss the footsteps of another person in the building either. The voice is a good enough indicator of hos close the person is and Wesker makes it his point to not be caught appearing vulnerable. That simply wouldn't do. So with a displeased short noise he pulls himself back up onto his feet, which doesn't help with the dizziness, but instantly increases his intimidation factor.

"I'm busy." He snarls in response, voice loud enough that it should be picked up by whoever is here. He leaves bottle and syringe behind on a nearby table and steps to the door of the room he is currently occupying and out into the corridor to scare away the disturbance. Wesker spots the man not too far down the corridor, his own voice tense and impatient as he asks. "What do you want."

[knightlyperformance]

Now there's a ball of sunshine, he thinks, although knowing full well he's no one to judge. Steven doesn't call him on it though, thankfully. Marc resumes his steps, a little more wary. Clearly whoever it is in there is agitated for some reason.

He's not sure what he was expecting, but the man who appears at the next doorway just makes him think of secretive government operatives, right up to the sunglasses. He arches a brow.

"Nothing specifically, heard someone sounding like they were having a time and decided to check in on 'em. ...you good?"

[sunglassesincluded]

"A time." Wesker echoes flatly before inquiring in the same tone. "That's the impression I give to you?" Not that he's entirely certain what the other man means by that particular phrasing but to his credit he isn't outright threatening the stranger right away.

But before he can be given an answer, a fresh spike of dizzying nausea hits Wesker and he would have gone down where he stands if it weren't for his hand suddenly gripping onto the nearby doorway hard enough for his fingers to dig into the material, eyes glowing up sharply even through the shades. He fine.

[knightlyperformance]

Marc begins to shrug. Whatever impression Wesker might have meant to make on anyone, there was no way it wasn't going to be taken as anything at least minorly distressing.

Out of reflex he begins to step forward when the man seems to stagger, but being able to indent the doorway like that is one sure way to get anyone to freeze. "Whoa-!" he blurts, the curse that had been on his lips dying off once his eyes skipped from the guy's hand to that intense glowing glare.

[sunglassesincluded]

If it weren’t for the increasing headache, Wesker would find a certain amusement in that reaction, but as it is a small tilt of his head is the best reaction he can muster.

“Stop looking at me as if I’m going to bite you.” He says at last and pushes away from the doorframe to stumble back into the room he has emerged from, the palm of his opposite hand pressed against his temple. This isn’t good. He needs take the serum before he can’t handle a syringe anymore. “I already said I’m busy. Come back later.”

[knightlyperformance]

"Not sure I was concerned about biting- should I be?" the man mutters, neither moving forward nor backing off but still tensed all the same. He's not sure what to make of glowing eyes- he's no stranger to them but in his experience it was a brief thing and only signified when one of the gods settled in or left their avatars. Not the greatest feeling.

"Yeah, okay, I can see that. Sure you're gonna be fine there?"

[sunglassesincluded]

"Of course." Wesker answers as matter-of-factly as possible while shrugging off the long, dark coat and dropping it on one of the counters. He tries to sound certain, but his hand remains on the flat surface to keep himself steady. Even with his sunglasses his entire world is tinged in a deep red with no sign of the effect lessening even when he focusses.

This will prove an issue.

The hand that isn't keeping Wesker upright comes up to his face and he exhales through his nose before checking if the other man is still around. "I may require some assistance after all."

[knightlyperformance]

No, Marc hasn't left. In spite of his feeling on the alert and considering it might be better off to make himself scarce, he lingers. It's only when the other man speaks up again from within the room that he steps closer towards the doorway.

"What do you need?" Just keep it professional. Don't ask any other questions.

[sunglassesincluded]

There is a moment of hesitation on Wesker's end in which he regards the other man through his glasses. A stranger standing in a world of angry red. A stranger that he has to depend on at least at the moment and deep down Wesker hates it.

"The serum is on that table." He says at last, gesturing vaguely towards the untested substance he now can only hope works.

[knightlyperformance]

Despite not knowing exactly what's going on with the guy, Marc still has a pretty good guess as to what's going through his mind then. Someone with such strength showing a moment of weakness, and the situation's serious enough that he's forced to ask for someone's assistance. Marc doesn't lift his hands completely, but he gestures vaguely enough, showing he's not here to be a threat. Which might be laughable under different circumstances.

When finally Wesker gives direction, he looks towards the table for the serum in question. Marc gives him a nod, stepping briskly into the room to pick up the vial and the syringe beside it. It's clear enough what needs to be done.

Don't ask questions, he repeats in his head as he applies the syringe to the vial to take in its contents. Well, maybe one question. "Whole thing?" he asks, just to be sure, but once he gets confirmation he'll set the emptied bottle aside and tap out the air bubbles in the syringe, depressing the stopper until the smallest amount of liquid finally squirts out with the last of the air.

Okay, one more question. He holds the syringe up. "You got this, or where should I be sticking it?"

[sunglassesincluded]

The absence of questions is secretly appreciated and Wesker observes in matching silence as the other man handles the serum almost professionally. It earns Marc a small nod of approval when Wesker accepts the syringe and rather unceremoniously jabs the needle into the exposed forearm of his other arm.

The serum burns as it wrestles the virus back into its place. So the replicator does indeed do exactly as it is told. Interesting…

Wesker let’s put a silent sigh of relief once the red tint begins to drain away from his vision and with it the glow from his eyes also fades away at last. But that relief also comes with the reminder that he isn’t alone.

“You have questions. I will answer two.”

[knightlyperformance]

Being a field medic wasn't part of his training or duties back when he was a marine but when you took up being a mercenary there were a few things you picked up. Proper handling of injections wasn't exactly a specialized skill but one of those things you just picked up from some experience or another.

With Wesker taking care of injecting himself, all Marc can do then is wait and see if whatever it is does the trick. Once the other man sighs, he arches a brow. Guess it worked, then. Offering answers to two questions is rather generous considering Marc hadn't expected any questions to be accepted at all. He pauses as he thinks.

"...that gonna be a problem?"

[sunglassesincluded]

“This?” Wesker asks in return, holding up the used syringe and popping the little plastic cap back over the needle. He will make sure to dispose of it properly later. “Or me answering questions? In both cases, no. The serum I can make more of. Being transported here at an inopportune moment just threw off my schedule entirely.” He will have to work out a new schedule for his injections now that he has some breathing room.

“And I will let you know if you’re asking something too personal.” He offers a hand “Albert Wesker.”

[knightlyperformance]

"That, and...whatever situation you've got going there," Marc clarifies with a vague gesture towards Wesker in general. "But I think most people can relate to the being here at an inopportune moment of some kind or another."

He's not sure he wants to know what happens beyond the glowing eyes and he hasn't forgotten what the man did to the doorjamb, his own eyes trailing towards the doorway briefly before he looks to the hand extended to him.

"Marc Spector," he nods as he reaches out to shake, slowly but not quite hesitantly. Oddly enough, not a name that's listed on the directory.

[sunglassesincluded]

"I will be fine." It's a simple answer, but the way Wesker's entire posture has changed over the past few moments already should make as much easily believable. He is fully standing on his own again already and is leaning back against the counter that he used to support himself, crossing his arms over his chest after a firm, yet not bone breaking handshake. He will make sure to be fine and not dependant on anyone from now on.

"But enlighten me," Wesker starts his own inquiry while studying Marc through his dark glasses. "I don't recall seeing your name on the list of residents."

[knightlyperformance]

It's...well Marc can't say that it's a relief exactly. There's a lot going on here that he doesn't understand. He supposes at least it's a good thing that whatever was happening with Wesker, he's able to get it under control. Hopefully that's good enough for now and won't come back to bite him later.

Ah. Then there's that. "Mix-up with guest relations," he shrugs. "Honestly I don't know, given how great the aliens are with their messages it's a wonder they get names straight."

[sunglassesincluded]

Wesker's expression doesn't shift. "Well. And who are you listet as?" He would like to know, yes.

"As you can probably tell, I haven't been here for long and I am still trying to figure out some details as well as who is who in the city. Who I can trust." But also who may come in handy to him eventually. Which is not the sort of information Wesker is inclined to share.

[knightlyperformance]

Fair enough. Marc would have to give his face-twin a head's up about this guy later.

"It's under Steven Grant," he says. "So yeah, if for whatever reason you feel like gettin' in touch, you should be able to reach me by that."

He gives a nod then. "Basics. I've been here a few months and I'm still pickin' my way through things and who all's trustworthy. But the people here aren't too bad in general. Some are just as paranoid."

[sunglassesincluded]

A nod on Wesker’s side. That’s a name he remembers. And the little profile picture may actually look close enough to Marc if memory serves right.

“I will keep that in mind.” There is a pensive pause following those words. “I still owe you a second answer.”

[knightlyperformance]

"Right," Marc says. He's not sure if he'll get an answer or if he'll like whatever answer he might get.

"What happens if it gets worse than that and you don't have a supply?"

[sunglassesincluded]

“Don’t know. Never been keen to find out.” Wesker shrugs and raises a hand to remove the dark glasses from his face, revealing the orange-ish red pupils behind them for the first time.

“It’s a virus. I got infected when my team investigated an outbreak that was suspected to be a potential bioterrorism attack in what turned out to be a secret laboratory dabbling in creating B.O.W.s. One of their prototypes broke free and killed most of my men. It would have killed me as well, but instead the virus it infected my body with as it impaled me allowed me to survive and escape thanks to a small genetical advantage I have when it comes to viral symptoms. My guess is that the virus keeps trying to kill and mutate me further. Turn me into a mindless killing machine and carrier to spread itself. It’s what every virus has as its primary objective.” That’s as much of the truth as Wesker is willing to share or alter. But he is certain it’s more than the other man expects to get.

[knightlyperformance]

It's more than Marc had expected to be told, coming as much of a surprise as when the man removes his sunglasses.

"That's...unpleasant," he says, the understatement of understatements. He's not sure what you're supposed to say to that. Having to constantly push back some kind of viral mutation like that has to be draining, but the alternatives aren't much better, especially if you want to live. There's more he'd like to ask now that he's got some vague background but Wesker's put the limit at two and Marc's expended them.

[sunglassesincluded]

"The pros outweigh the cons." Wesker shrugs and puts the glasses back on. And it's true as far as he's concerned. Of course he has to make sure to take the serum on time, but in exchange he's very much invincible, regenerates, has inhuman strength, speed, reflexes...

Wesker turns to pick his coat back up as well. "Your help here has been appreciated."

[knightlyperformance]

If he knew the pros he might have a better understanding of it. He's the one who accepted the terms of being brought back from death's door by an Egyptian god after all. Of course with Khonshu entrapped back home, Marc nor Steven had no way of accessing that power anymore, which meant none of...basically what Albert has. Without the whole endangerment of a virus trying to turn you into a slavering, bloodthirsty beast.

It's Marc's turn to shrug. "Guess it was a lucky thing I was around. If we're all good here, I got some bandages to hunt down."