[OPEN] An angry B.O.W. enters a bar...

[sunglassesincluded]

WHO: Albert & whoever dares bothering him
WHERE: The Deep End
WHAT: Contemplations, preparations and- A mess.
WHEN: Post-Calibrations
WARNINGS: Wesker. He is not in a good mood.

It's barely the middle of the day but for some reason or another Wesker can be found at the bar of the Deep End, a drink in front of him and a cigarette between his fingers. He hasn't been smoking a lot since Raccoon City, but this place sure likes to give him headaches and reasons to pick up an old habit again.

The ships are still gone, a good part of his research that had been left unattended for weeks has become useless and thanks to those ridiculous dreams a few people have acquired knowledge Wesker isn't okay with being known. Yes, he killed most of these individuals, but that had only been in his dream. And yes, he has learned a few things himself while ending up in the dreams of others. Now they are all free of those dreams again and Wesker needs to figure out what to do next.

That the ships are gone is bothersome. He used those to rest. To sleep and eat and just be away from everyone else. Now he may have to rely on his office in the hospital more than he likes.

He casts a look around the empty place and his eyes settle on the large windows and the water beyond. Right. All of those samples have become useless as well and he isn't even sure if it will be worth his while reacquiring them. He might have to spent more time gathering mint plants, extract their essence and combine them with other substances to increase their potency. He also has to decide how to deal with Cal Kestis especially. He just may have to kill him. But will doing so help him getting out of here?

"Fuck it!" The man exclaims and slams his fist hard on and through the bar in front of him, sending bits and pieces as well as his own half empty glass flying.

Comments

[doubled_speed]

Good news (that isn't good for any of the parties involved)! They're back out and that means Tommy's got delivery rounds to the bar. Why is this good? Well, he's fast. And that means as he arrives at speed and sees the shit flying around, he steps forward, grabs the cup, scoops the spraying liquor out of the air, and then plops down at a table to drink it.

Not like Wesker's got cooties. He's a doctor. And an asshole.

"So, bad moody, fussy britches? Couldn't have happened to a better person."

[sunglassesincluded]

The display is a lot less impressive to Wesker than it would be to anyone else, of course. His eyes have no problem keeping up with Tommy’s movements and all that is really left to do for Wesker is to roll his eyes in annoyance while pulling his fist free from the broken bar.

“Not in the mood for games, Thomas.” He growls, looking over his own mess and gets up to his feet before beginning to pull the remains of the bar apart in a more controlled way.

[doubled_speed]

"What, you think just because you saw that shit of assholes who also insisted on calling me Thomas while they tortured me, you're good to do it too? And for fun you're also getting on Cayde's bad side? So fucking mature. We should all aspire to grow up to be like you."

He's still drinking though.

[sunglassesincluded]

“I saw them call you many things.” Wesker grumbles while tearing away the last of the actually damaged planks. He casts a sneer in Tommy’s direction “Would you prefer any of those to your actual name?”

He tosses the broken wood down to the rest and shrugs off his coat, dropping it over a stool before heading to the bar’s back room where he knows he can find tools to work with.

[doubled_speed]

Tommy snarls just a little at that. Yeah, he did see things, and Tommy hated him for that.

"Tommy. My name is fucking Tommy."

[sunglassesincluded]

“Fucking Tommy.” Wesker echoes as he picks up what counts as a makeshift toolbox and returns to his mess.

“You’re getting too hung up on something as insignificant as a name.”

[doubled_speed]

"Names matter, sweet cheeks," Tommy counters, glowering as Wesker returns. "The one we choose to live with helps us define ourselves, our identities. Who we want to be, in spite of what we have been before and what has happened to us."

[sunglassesincluded]

Now this is all just nonsense to Wesker’s ears. He has a name, sure, but his name doesn’t define him. If anything, Wesker is more of a title than a name anyway. The title of a project, named after a scientist that is long dead. Does that Define him? No. Wesker defines himself.

“Is that why you picked a name an elderly lady would give to her pet dog?” The man inquires and sets about to sort through the pieces to see which ones he can still use for his repairs.

[doubled_speed]

"Apparently you've never met an elderly lady with a pet dog," Tommy says. He's never met a dog without a really stupid name that makes no sense.

[deal_me_in]

"Hey, HEY!"

Cayde comes in, Colonel tucked under an arm. All these years and he's never had any problems with people wrecking the place. Sure, it's always been a possibility- bars tended to have rowdy people at times but Temba seemed any place but for rowdy people.

He can guess what's prompting this explosion but all the same, it's his bar.

"What gives, Al?! You wanna break something so bad, don't be bustin' my bar up! I am not hauling any trees over here to replace counters!"

[sunglassesincluded]

Of course the Exo would be around somewhere. Just his luck.

“Oh shut up, Cayde.” Wesker growls, pulling his fist free from the mess of broken wood and splinters while pointedly turning his deep red glowing eyes anywhere other than the Guardian and his chicken. “I will repair this later.” Or much rather rebuild, given the state of the piece of furniture.

[deal_me_in]

The Exo gasps at that before scowling. He ducks into the back room to set Colonel down before stepping back out.

"Not the point! You wanna go break something, don't be doing it to something I actually put work into." He sighs before going to grab some of the glassware from beneath the broken counter, setting them on the shelves behind him before he takes a bottle and one of the cups to pour himself a drink.

"I don't go breaking your stuff when I'm mad, do I?"

[sunglassesincluded]

"Not much left to break at this point anyway." Wesker snaps through grit teeth, but then reigns himself back in. Antagonizing Cayde really isn't in his interest. He wouldn't be any better than any of those teenagers if he is unable to regain his cool after a little flare of his temper.

He exhales audibly through his nose, but then nods before fishing out a new cigarette. "Fine. I apologize."

[deal_me_in]

Cayde sighs, tipping back his drink as he drums fingers against the still level portion of the counter. After a moment he sets it down so he can grab another glass, begrudgingly filling it and sliding it over to Wesker.

"Accepted. You still owe me a new countertop."

[sunglassesincluded]

Wesker catches the glass and picks it up, regarding its content for a moment. He then reaches into his coat and produces his gun, placing the weapon on the counter close to the Exo. The magazine is, of course, empty.

"I get it back once my work here is finished." Collateral. Not that he expects to take too long for the repairs and rebuilding.

"You weren't in that dream space."

[deal_me_in]

There's a glance at the gun before the Exo picks it up, arching a brow. He gives it a look over before nodding, setting it down in front of him to stow later.

"Ah, so you were stuck there." He makes a face. "Nope, must've missed that call. How'd they get you in there?"

[sunglassesincluded]

"Curiosity." Is the simple, yet genuine response. With how little results all his attempts at information gathering and research has yielded, Wesker had considered it worth to trigger the obvious trap and see if that gets him any further. It hasn't really.

Wesker takes a sip of his drink. "Nothing but wasted time."

[playingtough]

Billy has just walked in. Mentally screwed from that month long imprisonment in the bunker, people invading his dreams like the Flayer had taken control of him again, walking into other, none of it had done good for his already blatant aggressive streak. That Tommy guy would know first hand.

So after getting his stuff dropped back off in his hotel room, he had made his way to this bar.

God, he needed a drink.

And he walks in to Wesker slamming his hand onto the bar. Bits and chunks fly everywhere, along with a glass. It soars through towards the blond and he catches it. “HEY!” he snaps back, not recognizing the guy.

Not yet.

“The fuck is your problem, asshole?” which is probably not the correct response to the show of force, but it’s better than what he does next. Which would be to throw the glass right back as Wesker. “You trying to make this place match the rest of this shithole?”

[sunglassesincluded]

A pair of glowing, deep red eyes turn to Billy, the shades on Wesker's face effectively turning them into glowing dots and he raises a hand at inhuman speed, letting the glass shatter as it impacts with it.

"Oh, shut up!" The man growls back sharply and with the same speed as before pulls his other fist out of the counter and from one moment to the next suddenly stands right next to Billy and his elbow is coming right for the side of the younger man's head.

[playingtough]

For a second, Billy sees the glow to the man's eyes. There's a moment where he wonders if it's a trick of the light or something else, but that's all he gets to think about it. The glass has shattered and then the guy is moving.

There's a sharp cry out as there's a hard elbow coming up against the side of his head. It stuns him for a moment but he's reacting, slamming his fist forward with the intention of getting this guy in the chest or stomach.

[sunglassesincluded]

While Wesker could have easily taken the punch to his chest, he reacts far quicker than the fist can reach. He grabs hold of Billy's arm and wrist with both of his hands, spins into the younger man and hurls him over his shoulder and onto his back on the ground in one smooth, well-practiced motion.

It only takes Wesker a split second to draw his gun next and point it at the teenagers face to discourage any further attacks, futile as they may be. That the gun isn't loaded... Well. That's a different matter. But so far simply pointing it at someone has been very helpful at calming them down.

[playingtough]

His fists land on nothing. The blue eyes go wide in shock, even before Wesker's moving him. The bar turns around him as he flies through the air, and yells when he lands on his back. The fire to keep fighting surges through him, but when he looks to see a gun pointed in his face, he doesn't move.

But he's clearly not calm either.

Billy's hands curl into fists and he sneers up at the man. "I've been on the painful end of anger issues dick, but this shit takes the cake. What the fuck did the bar do to you?"

[sunglassesincluded]

"Mind your own business." Wesker growls angrily, gun still in hand and eyes flaring.

He lets that warning settle before stepping away and storing his gun back where he carries it. The glow of his eyes takes longer to recede as he turns to survey the damage to the bar. Not that he can truly argue that losing his cool like this speaks for his maturity.

With a sharp exhale from his nose, the man crouches down and begins to pick up the shards and pieces of the shattered glass.

[playingtough]

"Keep your business from wrecking where the fuck I want to get a drink." He doesn't even care about having attitude towards Wesker again, even with knowing he has a gun.

Watching the way the man stalks back over to the bar to clean up his mess, a sense of familiarity dawns over him. This was the guy that called him pathetic in his own headspace. Demanded answers he didn't have about the Mind Flayer. Enraged the blond in his own brain and he couldn't even push the bastard out.

He walks over with glass crunching under his feet as he stops right on where the guy is cleaning up his mess. "You done throwing a damn toddler tantrum, bitch?"

[sunglassesincluded]

This idiot did not just move himself right into Wesker's way.

Just that he did.

And he will regret that decision quickly.

Without giving any warning, Wesker grabs hold of Billy's ankle. And then he stands up. Quickly. Pulling the younger man's foot with him and holding him upside down like an unruly chicken, glaring down at him with those deep red orbs again.

"You're trying my patience, boy." A warning.