[event]

[sunglassesincluded]

WHO: Albert Wesker, one closed & some open stuff
WHERE: Temba, the library, the Warrens
WHAT: There's this volcano thing happening
WHEN: Rest of August
WARNINGS: %

a - Not a hero. - Library [ closed to Tony ]

He isn't still out in the city because he wants to be there. Wesker has been at the marked location punctually along with the few item he deemed important enough to bring along, all safely stored away in a briefcase modified with a locking mechanism of Weskers own design.

But not every member of this place's small population values their lives. Among them, naturally, some of the local self-proclaimed heroes. Wesker, possibly foolishly, has agreed to make sure that those that stayed behind to pick up stragglers don't leave themselves behind in the process.

It's because that intense little man that usually haunts the library had insisted that Wesker makes sure to check said library especially thorough that he finds himself in this place that somehow feels less oppressive than usual despite the impendig eruption.

And he does indeed encounter someone. He isn't interested to learn why the man lingers behind. What's important now is to bring him into the mines. "It's time to leave."

b - Not a friend. - The Warrens

Preserving energy has become Wesker's main objective roughly a week into being confined underground. His body is too demanding to function properly on the rations of food handed out while at the same time pride and stubbornness prevent the man from seeking help or permitting himself to show what he perceives as a clear weakness.

He could of course threaten someone, but that would yet again only work against him on the long run. No. He's better than this. He will endure this. Even if that means that Weskers days are filled with a lot more naps than anyone would consider normal to recharge at least some energy. And more often than not he finds himself waking back up with one or more of those strange winged cats curled up with or even on him. On at least one occasion he also found himself with one of the creatures dropping a beetle it had caught next to him with a proud flutter of its wings. Of course he would attract the local felines. Cats are known to be drawn to those that want nothing to do with them and Wesker doesn't want to have anything to do with anyone.

They brought him another gift today and Wesker inspects the dead insect in his hand. "I wonder what keeps them from hunting those little plant people..." He muses to no one in particular. He has thought about those beings that are helping them and very much is interested in researching them.

c - Not himself. - The Warrens - Even later in the event

Luckily the mothcats mostly leave Wesker be while he is awake. And Wesker has made it a habit to write his thoughts into a little notebook which he keeps in a small, surprisingly ornate box. A box that is of course locked. To unlock it, one needs to solve a little puzzle Wesker built into it along with a small key he keeps on his person.

It's with the mechanisms worked into this box that he is fiddling when he first noticed the trembling in his hands and the way his vision started to blur and the itching in his blood. The virus was destabilizing. Which obviously isn't good. But what's worse is that Wesker can't hide this very well. Not when he has to occasionally walk through the tunnels where he will clumsily walk into everyone that fails to dodge him and growl moodily at them.

Comments

a.

[in_extremis]

The shimmering barrier had severely limited their options. Still dripping and streaked with ash from being dumped once more in the water, Iron Man and Wiccan had hovered over the centre of the city, watching the smoke pour from the volcano, any work they had managed to divert the worst of the fallout feeling only half finished as Billy tried to overcome the shield. "New plan," Tony had said, for what felt like the thousandth time, refusing to let that choking frustration into his voice.

Every plan, unfortunately, took time that Jon's insistent countdown declared they did not have. Billy was across the city, driving furrows into the earth to divert any damage at ground level. Tony had said, "I'll figure out the sky," and since then had not determined an effective plan of action. He could make sure nothing was going to blow up, releasing gas and disarming the generator at the hospital, unhooking the appliances at the diner, then staring into his workshop in the strangely quiet basement of the library. The rumbling of the earth felt distant, and the cloying air secured outside, with Jon long gone and hardly a smudge of ash trailed inside.

Tony had only collected a few things when he was looking up at the unexpected voice, the faceplate of the Iron Man passive as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the intrusion. "You have got to work on your bedside manner," he greeted, and didn't wait for Wesker to step aside to go brushing past him, dragging a patch of chainmail that he thought might help reinforce the ceiling.

[sunglassesincluded]

A leather gloved hand grabs Tony by his arm to stop the armored man in his tracks as Wesker makes his point. "And you're not helping anyone by dieing that heroic death your people seem to crave so much."

Wesker doesn't like these super hero types. They're idiots. Idiots that either cause trouble or try to launch themselves head first into dangerous situations only to make them worse. Or to create unnecessary work for others. Him being here trying to fetch this guy is the best example.

The hold on Tony's arm tightens. "Whatever Valhalla you hope to wake up in has to wait."

[in_extremis]

If that hold wasn't strong enough to stop the armor, Tony's bafflement at Wesker's cause kept him in place to stare like he could understand anything behind those dark glasses. The rest of his behaviour, between immediately trying to choke Tony and torturing every kid he got within a certain radius of, did not suggest he had much investment in their survival. What did he actually want?

Iron Man made a sharp move to wrench his arm away and replied, "The only place I hope to wake up is the only home we've got. You can help, or you can go figure out how to thank me later."

[sunglassesincluded]

Weskers grip tightens just as sharply as the other mans move, metal straining under his fingers. He could easily tear the armor apart but keeps himself at bay. A matter of maintaining resources.

"If you want me to knock you unconscious and take you there, that can be arranged." Wesker argues, sharp points of red piercing through his shades. Patience is not one of his very few virtues. He growls, baring his teeth. "You will be more useful to everyone if you can help fix whatever damage the city will take once we get back here. Staying now is foolish."

[in_extremis]

"You're taking a lot of wide swings at what I want, First Offense," Iron Man growled back, going rigid at that unyielding hold, fist clenched amid a whir of servos and creak of leather. It was a subtle change when it went slack again, a purr of a thousand tiny systems rolling up Iron Man's arm to shift his fingers fractionally as he was disarmed, briefly, the question of just how useful he was already rusting through his stomach. But did this guy know any better? Which one of them could see the future? It felt like forever before Tony was continuing, "I promise you, it's so much worse than you're imagining. You want to let go before you find out."

[sunglassesincluded]

Naturally Wesker is far from letting go. He rather uses his hold to turn the other man just enough to meet the masks strange eyes. "Don't make me drag you to the tunnels." He warns with a snarl. That armor won't stop him. If he has to bring this man in kicking and screaming, he will.

[in_extremis]

Wesker had his chance then to prove his superior precognition, because Tony did not have time to argue his way out of this frustrating hold. Iron Man used that resolute hold on his arm to yank Wesker toward him, challenging his balance to give Tony the opening to viciously butt he metal helmet into his nose, aiming to break those glasses off of his face.

c

[out_of_order]

Being underground during the event of an erupting volcano is an experience Cal has decided he can definitely do without. For a long while since they'd all headed down to shelter, he'd been unable to shake the anxiousness, nearly on par with his early days on Bracca, back when he'd been hiding under the Empire's nose as a rigger in the Scrapper Guild. It's not a feeling he's missed.

As the days have worn on, he's not sure whether he's acclimated or if things have perhaps calmed down above, but it's been a little easier to find his center, to find some peace in the Force. It helps to find somewhere secluded, and at least there are numerous enough tunnels for that. Cal's threading his way back towards the main haven after one such meditation period when he comes across Wesker, the roiling emotions he senses making him stop in his tracks, hesitant to backtrack.

[sunglassesincluded]

The Padawan is at the clear advantage in that he can sense Wesker before the man can spot him. But the moment Wesker does notice Cal, the younger man gets hit by a potent wave of anger and raw hatred that even Weskers dark glasses fail to hide.

Wesker can feel the virus trying to urge him on. To lunge at the Jedi and rip him apart with teeth and claws and-- He manages to push past those insistent urges. But not without effort.

Cal receives a low growl in warning. "Get lost."

[out_of_order]

It's a wonder that Cal manages to stand steady, but beneath that calm mien he tenses. Wesker had always been intense but it's an entirely different level when you had him angry, and that anger directed specifically at you.

He may not be able to read thoughts but there is certainly nothing good going on behind those sunglasses. When the man speaks, Cal brings up his hands.

"Calm down. I was just heading back to where the others are."

[sunglassesincluded]

And it's a good thing that Cal can't Wesker's thoughts. They aren't nearly as clear as the man likes them to be. Not nearly as focused and under his control.

He keeps a contemplative glare on Cal for a few moments before his head tips faintly in the direction Cal intends to head into. It's not clear if he actually looks that way. But his head turns back to fully glare at the younger man again and the only response Cal receives is another deep growl. Fine. He may go that way.

[out_of_order]

At least he seems to be reasonable yet. That's a plus. Cal had his concerns when it had become clear they were once again all going to be stuck together in one place, but at least this space is much larger than Calibrations.

Still very much on his guard, the Jedi nods at the...well, he supposes that's as much of acknowledgment as anything. He starts to move forward to pass Wesker by. His droid peeks over his shoulder, purposely keeping to the side opposite the sunglass-wearing man.

[sunglassesincluded]

And yet Wesker feels a lot less reasonable. He really wants to grab Cal right there and then and crush his skull into the closest wall. But he knows that's the virus trying to do what it had been designed for. And he knows that he can't afford any such actions now. Not with everyone locked up down here. Not with his own strength and body failing him.

He keeps a close eye on Cal and his little robot as they moved past, jaw clenched as much as the hand that isn't subtly keeping him balanced against the wall while he remains focused on maintaining appearance more than anything else. Make Cal Kestis believe that the only reason he can get away free is that they are trapped underground again. That he is nothing but lucky.

B

[plate_builder]

"I think the answer is that they know they will not do well if they attack the little ones."

Reeve, who had been on a walk (thanks to the insistence of Mini who was at his side), of course found himself intrigued by the question. Still, he's had the chance to process the question quietly and it works for him. Yes, he thinks the answer is rather fitting.

"They seem able to protect themselves."

[sunglassesincluded]

Wesker looks up from the insect and over to the man and his robot companion. He nods slowly. "Possible. They don't seem to have any trouble to coexist." There may be some mutual benefits involved even. but Wesker doesn't know nearly as much about those plantkin as he would have liked. He will need some samples of these creatures and their toxins.

"What brings you all the way into this corner of the tunnels?" The answer is likely just plain chance. A lot of these tunnels loop back to the same center point after all.

[plate_builder]

"They have likely been existing in the same ecosystem for many years," she says with a shrug. That makes sense, doesn't it?

"We were takin' a walk," Mini provides to Wesker. "Gotta wear him out fa sleep."

"I'm recovering from an injury as well," Reeve says. "I'm supposed to slowly exercise."

[sunglassesincluded]

"Actually native species, indeed..." Wesker agrees pensively. He needs to talk to these creatures. There are questions they may be able to answer.

But for now he lets his attention sweep from Mini back up to Reeve when either of them speaks, raising a brow at the information he is given. "An injury?"

[plate_builder]

If they were, then perhaps they could start to find answers. But Reeve, of course, wasn't one tied to communications anymore.

"Ah bookshelf," Mini provides, and Reeve sighs.

"One of the quakes brought a shelf down on me as we were about to leave. We were lucky, Richie found me and helped Mini get me out of there. But I sprained my ankle."

[sunglassesincluded]

"Hm." Wesker returns, nodding once at receiving those information. Lucky indeed. At least from the sound of it Reeve has been more cooperative in his own rescue.

"That ankle will be needed once we get out of here." Even if that shield can protect the city above, the earthquakes will have left enough to rebuild. A lot of work just washed down the drain.

Closed to Dustin

[sunglassesincluded]

Even with his energy limited by the circumstances, curiosity combined with boredom have driven Wesker to seek out those curious plant-like beings that for some odd reason have decided to be their saviors and host for the duration of their underground stay. He has questions. Questions he believes these creatures can answer. But questions as well as answers have a shared difficulty in common: They required communication.

And that's where things became difficult quickly.

God knows how long he has been crouching in front of the small group of Funfronds he has managed to find and his patience is growing thin, preventing them from moving while at the same time attempting to get some information out of them. Though even his attempts at using sign language failed spectacularly, only earning him some blank stares from the creatures.

He slams the notebook in his hand shut, barely holding back a growl at the sound of approaching footsteps.

crabwalks into this thread

[quark_assassin]

Said footsteps, punctuated by the clicking of metal shoes on metal floor and the rhythmic hissing of the pneumatic joins of an exosuit, halt as soon as Wesker snaps that notebook closed. On an instinctive level, Dustin realizes something is amiss here; Wesker's irritation is palpable, yes, even from his position down the hall, but the Communications data point also lets him read the confusion and slight uneasiness in the postures of the Funfronds he spots on the other side. It puts him in an awkward position. He can't just turn around and pretend like he was never here because Wesker has clearly already noticed him. He also can't continue going about his business because the Funfronds might be in trouble, and Dustin feels like he's responsible for them, whether the little mushrooms expect that of him or not.

There's only one option left, isn't there? Dustin straightens his back and sets his shoulders, drawing a bit of confidence from the exosuit holding him securely in place, and clears his throat.

"The hell are you doing?"

[sunglassesincluded]

"What does it look like?" Wesker growls back, eyeing the peculiar armor Dustin is wearing. He stands back up then, unfolding himself back to his full height, one hand on his hip and still very much preventing the small mushroom-people from leaving. It has been tricky enough to round them up.

But he still answers. "I am asking questions."

[quark_assassin]

Goddamn, Wesker is tall. Not that Dustin was unaware or anything, it's just that being loomed over like this will never not be deeply unsettling, and it shows. He manages to crane his neck and hold the man's gaze - where he assumes it is, anyway, behind the shades that he's inexplicably wearing underground - and swallows thickly, lump bobbing in his throat.

"You don't have the Communications expertise," Dustin says. Not an accusation, just a statement of fact; he saw enough of Wesker's attempts earlier to connect the dots. "Not gonna make a lot of progress that way."

[sunglassesincluded]

"No I don't." Wesker acknowledges plainly, unimpressed about Dustin stating the obvious. As much as Wesker tends to switch expertises to work on his various projects, the Communications one rarely has much direct influence on his work.

His attention doesn't leave the young man when he states in very much the same tone. "But you do. Therefore you will assist me."

[quark_assassin]

Dustin's heavy eyebrows lift in an obvious challenge. Will I?, they say in silence. That's hilarious.

What actually comes out of Dustin's mouth isn't much more courteous. "Why the hell would I do that?" he asks, blandly. Unsettled or not, Dustin's never been one to handle being given orders especially gracefully.