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yngai Β· 2 years ago
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RESIDENT EVIL 4 REMAKEΒ Β Β«Β Β π˜ˆπ˜Šπ˜Šπ˜Œπ˜—π˜›π˜π˜•π˜ŽΒ .
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the champagne swirls absent mindedly in her glass, a whirlpool of empty thoughts & distant emotions that play well with her professional detachment . an easy feat when your heart is not in the assignment, draped in the crystalline blues of a lace halter gown that wraps around her neck, the slit going only to her knee . there is no need to show skin, just enough, & the soulless, muted color that can scarcely compare itself to her favored crimsons makes ada wong just another among an attending crowd . a woman hidden in plain sight, a better chameleon than the man whose presence corrodes at her exposed shoulders, though far less lizard-like . albert wesker is a sculpture surrounded by the ignorant masses, unaware they are witnessing the height of performance art . he isn't chiseled from marble, no, she likens him to some poor soul covered in silver paint, drawing the eyes of bystanders with a hat at his feet, awaiting their cash & applause .
a high society event in prague's dominican hotel that was sure to pull from the most rotten of the czech republic's elite .
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networking truly was the worst aspect of this career & with the types in attendance, with wesker in her vicinity & no weapons on her person, she is on her third drink & feeling no effect, losing focus, care or consideration . maybe that's why he decided to join, watch her slowly deflate, trapped where she doesn't belong . ada downs what little remains & there is barely any alcohol burning against her throat, the fruity notes make her think these people are more so children, with no strife to overcome & enough money to live out all their fantasies, all in on a game of play-pretend . the glass is set by the table next to her purse, her right arm reaching within, procuring her compact & opening its secret compartment with a satisfying click . the mirror is what catches her eye, she notes the visible exhaustion on her features, & then, angling it to catch a glimpse of wesker, the absence of emotion on his own . if she had birkin's cocktail coursing through her veins, maybe she wouldn't need to dab her middle finger on the designer cocaine that she smuggled in with her makeup . spreading it along her gums without care for who might look, to anyone far away it would seem like a woman touching up her foundation, & as she finishes massaging it into the left side of her mouth, wesker finally speaks .
@tyrantype : ❝ you look like you’ve got something to say. ❞
her upper body turns, hunched over slightly to cover her face with her compact, her finger still ballooning her cheek . there is an ever so brief, distorted, β€œ βΈΊhuh ? ” like she didn't expect to be caught in the act, like she thought he had learned to ignore her almost perfectly, her habits, her persona, her indifference . she straightens herself, taking her hand out of her mouth & brushing the stained, wet tip of her finger with her thumb . ada swallows before she continues, letting the rush of euphoria steel her thoughts, make her alive, delude her into an equal footing,
β€œ all night long i was wondering why you're here . like some kind of particularly intrusive headmaster, could've handled it all on my own . i know the kinds of men the organization loves to court . ”
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