What I want to know is when are Magneto and Wesker going to get together and destroy mankind

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“ Oh! OH! YOU’RE the one Wesker is always talking about! ” “ —Kinda thought you’d be a bit taller! ” - From Doe, sorry Chris, she is outright telling on Wesker’s unending homoerotic complaints about you! Haha

Wait now hold on just a second.

The coffee that was just in his mouth goes flying out of his lips. Thankfully he had the decency to turn his head so Doe doesn't get completely sprayed with spittle. Chris puts his thermos down, wiping his mouth with a grunt.

"Excuse me?" There's so much he could pull apart in what she said. Wesker's always talking about him? Taller? Was he not tall enough? ... Was there a way he could work out to where he could get taller? Something to think about.

"And just who are you?"

@dcwnthercbbithcle

A firm hand grips tight around Leon's wrist. Dark brows furrow with determination and something else that lingers behind his eyes. His lips pull tight and Chris holds Leon for a sold couple of seconds before speaking to him.

"Don't pull anything stupid." Chris orders, "I am going to see you at that next generator. You understand me?"

Leon is smart. Leon is extremely capable, but he can also pull ridiculous stunts in order to make sure that everyone else got out. Chris is guilty of similar behaviors, but he at least made sure that everyone was properly taken care of first. This was too early in the match, and there was too much at stake.

Despite how much he wants to hear Leon respond, he's not going to risk the lives of civilians. If his rookie takes too long, he will let go. He hopes Leon isn't exactly privy to that.

chris is everything he ISN'T, in so many ways. a leader, with experience under his belt, trained for this and somehow, keeping his sense of self through all of this. the police academy didn't brief him on surviving a warzone, surviving being hunted, and a criminology degree wouldn't help him here either. it baffles him, how he's not yet seen chris waver. what had he seen? what could keep him so steely and yet so warm, in the face of death and death and death and death and—

leon sees the hand signal and gives a quick, stiff nod. he moves one more part into place, hears a satisfying mechanical click and then he's moving. crouching, he brings himself to the survivors, doing just as chris had done: a hand on the shoulder and a look that could awaken even the most shaken and frantic person. david is a bit harder to coax away than claudette is, stubbornly wanting to stay, but it only takes an additional second of glaring before he pries his hands out of the generator and starts to follow the rookie.

and maybe that's why they follow him. a young thing, too naive to disappoint, too determined to provide their survival that they couldn't bear to make him lose anything else in his life. maybe they just know better than to argue in the silence of the fog, with a killer approaching him.

leon looks to chris and starts to lead them to hide behind rubble. it's slow and cautious work to get far enough from the generator that they're as safe as anyone can be in these realms. a hushed whisper, "stay here. when the coast is clear, you're going to fix that generator and then chris is going to lead you to the next one, got it?" he waits for the look of recognition in their eyes before turning to chris, a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"i'll meet you at the next gen, alright?"

Chris absolutely hates it when people sexually objectify anybody he considers to be a part of his family/unit. He's had to deal with that shit over the years with Claire and even though Jill is a grown ass woman he still gets defensive of her. He doesn't allow guys to just say shit to him about them, or anyone else for that matter. That kind of behavior leads to the deterioration of squads.

@hauntedreality liked for a starter (For Jill!)

Three solid raps sound upon the door of Jill's apartment. Outside in the hallway stands a familiar figure, tucked away under a baggy looking track jacket with a local pizza chain logo emblazoned upon the back. The man pulls the brim of his cap down a little further upon his face, screwing it into place as he shifts a little awkwardly from foot to foot.

It made his skin crawl to know the eyes of Umbrella were glued to this place. That no matter how many times they cut the head off, another one pops up in its place. He can feel the anger bubbling under his skin, threatening to eat him alive from the inside. He's just about to reach into his pocket and pull out his pack of cigarettes when the door is finally pulled open.

"You order the large sausage?" Chris manages to say with a wink and playful smile. Thank God for Jill. She was one of the last few positive things left in his life after the Mansion mission failure, and he was going to hold onto her as tightly as he can without crushing her.

“ i don’t know who the bigger threat is; the dead, or the living. “ | from Claire

𝐙𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒. (𝐏𝐓. 𝟏)

Somehow, despite everything, Claire always had a way to make him laugh. It came as mostly a relief, but there's a part of him that feels a little frustrated that she can read him so well. Sisters, he guesses. She's a good kid, and he shouldn't take that away from her. Especially not now. Not ever. Let her cope the way she can; it ultimately makes the group stronger.

"You wanna flip a coin about it?" He sets his 9mm down on the table, having been mid cleaning, and fishes in his multiple pockets for his wallet. What luck that he just happens to have a quarter in order for them to flip. "Heads for Dead, Tails for Living." He announces.

With a metallic ting! the coin goes flying. Chris looks up, following its journey before expertly catching it in his palm and pressing it to the back of his other hand. Eyebrows raised, he looks to his little sister with a gentle smirk.

"Any bets?"

@hauntedreality

Like this post if you would like a starter from Chris!

Like this post if you would like a starter from Chris!

Hmm. He thought that maybe Leon was getting a little away from himself, but actually seeing the shift in his face all but cements that idea. They all have their own demons to face, some more literally than others, but Chris is beginning to be able to tell when they come snapping at Leon's heels.

"Don't have to tell me twice." Redfield drops his hand from Leon's back, letting slide off before turning his attention to the area around them. He tucks himself behind some cover, flattening himself slightly in order to blend in. It was fortunate he had military training; not many of the other survivors could say the same. There was that one older man, most likely a vet, who seemed to have similar experience with the undead. Bill? He was pretty sure his name was Bill.

Focus, Chris. There are lives depending on you. His eyes flick back momentarily to the rag-tag group, making sure that everyone was accounted for. Leon especially.

Suddenly his ears perk up, and for a moment the Alpha Team member whips his head in the direction of the incoming noise. Quietly, without moving too much, Chris makes a gesture with his right hand and signals Leon that there may be something nearby.

x :: @crstars sent: "Hey, Rookie." Redfield greets Leon just as a solid hand comes clapping him on the shoulder. With a hardy squeeze, the S.T.A.R.S. operative shakes the young man slightly before leaning in to grin close to his face, "You holdin' up? Keepin' pace? Gotta be careful out there."

chris squeezes his shoulder and the fabric of reality feels a bit more weighty, hung a bit tighter around him. his focus resolves, even as his eyes dart up and away from the generator for a moment, finding chris' gaze and boring into it with his own. in another life, they worked together. in another life, leon looked up to him. here, they're far more equal than they would be bantering in the rpd locker room.

"i'm not the one you need to be worrying about." leon looks to the other survivors as his hands work with skill that is quickly becoming second nature to him. the aches of his body ease and his next breath comes a little more naturally when he sees them. they're rattled, shaky, but alive, at least for now.

"keep a lookout, will you?" his voice is hushed, tender in a way that most aren't privileged with. the camaraderie of self sacrifice, the understanding that the others must not doubt how steadfast they stand, bonds them together.

Wesker might have considered this some form of divine irony if he had any belief in gods - to be plucked directly from the precipice of a brand new world crafted by his own hand to be used as little more than the plaything of whatever had seen fit to tear him from his righteous goal - only to find that he had not been the only one stolen away by the fog that once enveloped him. It must have a sense of humor, the thing that brought him here, to recreate some mockery of the Raccoon City Police department and set him lose with the only one thought left in his head: Kill. It must truly think it was hysterical as it watched Wesker prowl the halls, a knife clutched in one hand an Uroboros coursing beneath his skin. A noise alerts him, footfalls that run down the familiar hallway. The virus coils beneath his flesh, bursting through his arm before he even follows suit, barely stepping a foot inside the room before he charges, Uroboros coiling itself around the target's throat as he slams him against the frosted over glass of his old office. " Feeling sentimental? " There's a smile on his lips, thin and without warmth. He hadn't expected to catch Chris so soon. He was truly expecting more from him. What happened to the S.T.A.R.S. officer that was always a thorn in his side? " Poor performance indeed. "

He should have been more alert. He should have been more on guard, but having found his way back to his old office made him think about everything they had before the Incident. Jill, Barry, Rebecca, Brad... He could clearly see their after images walking around in the destroyed desks and empty space. They had so much here. This was his team. This was his family. Was. Had been. It was all over, and there was nothing left of teams Alpha and Bravo except for the few remaining members that managed to find their way here. It stung him to think about. It hurt him to know that he could just... come back here. That it wasn't gone. That the bomb hadn't gone off. It was like a time capsule.

One that he found himself fighting for his life in.

Thick black tendrils curl around his throat as the old Captain of Alpha Team slams his body into the very place he occupied during his time in S.T.A.R.S. It was where he watched over everyone else every day, making niceties that he knows now where fake. Chris knows now that every interaction was just a rouse, a cover up, for him and his dealings with Umbrella. Pure rage seizes Chris as he stares into the eyes he knows are behind those tinted frames. His hands come up instinctively, reaching for the dark mass formed by the fruits of Wesker's labor. His master plan. He can feel the curls of viral biomass clinging to him, trying to find its way into his pores and under his skin. There's a grimace on his face as he begins to sense that it's now inside him, working its way to completely riddle his body and leave him weak.

Oh right, Wesker said something.

"I should be asking you the same thing, Wesker." Redfield spits, almost literally, back at his rival, "Hunting me down first? Certainly know how to make a guy feel special."

continued for @manufactoredxbyxdesign

Pain is seemingly the only language Wesker understands. He never was one for true empathy or compassion and he wore them like detailed masks. Chris curses himself constantly that he never saw it coming and that he was fooled just like everyone else by the Captain of his squad. He had thought that if anyone had known Wesker, it was him, but he was clearly mistaken.

Despite his best efforts, Chris cries out at the shock of pressure to his carpus but quickly turns it into a snarl. Teeth bared, he grips tighter to his knife and subsequently balls his other hand into a fist in order to bring it square across Wesker's face. Time to knock those stupid sunglasses off his nose.

"It's not over yet, Wesker!" Said like a true American Hero. When will he ever learn?

-"Glad you're back."

-"So am I."

1997.

«maybe next time…»

CHRIS REDFIELD Resident Evil: Death Island (2023) dir. Eiichirō Hasumi

Chris Redfield & Jill Valentine Resident Evil Pachislot