#but while ada mostly dresses in red with black accents

[galaxy-fleur]

OC Profile Case 06: Wendy Lloyd

Additional Information:

Age (at the time of first appearance): 28.

Height: 161 cm.

Affiliation: Tricell (briefly), Freelance covert operative alongside Ada.

Appearances: RE4, Damnation, RE6.

Strengths and skills: Specializes in martial arts (jiu jitsu and muay thai), outstanding sniper, attentive, level-headed.

Flaws and weaknesses: Not a team player and has a noticeably worsened performance when put in a team, lacks the brute strength needed in some circumstances, apathetic.

Relationships:

Romantic connection: Ada Wong.

Closest ally: Albert Wesker, Luis Serra.

Acquaintances: Leon Kennedy, Jake Muller, William Roy, Dave Newman.

Negative relationship: Chris Redfield, Aruna Wella, Claire Redfield, Carla Radames.

Brief Summary:

- While Wendy makes her first appearance in RE4, working alongside Ada to retrieve the amber, her and Ada have been acquainted for years at that point. In fact, they've worked together on an on and off basis for approximately 8 years.

- Their relationship is one of mutual respect and reliance, built upon the similarities they share. Much like Ada, Wendy has a lot of things she'd rather keep hidden away. She's also a natural lone wolf. In a way, that shared standoffishness is what makes them such good partners, however ironic that may be. There is no expectation or pressure to be what they're not.

- Wendy is rather intrigued by the way Ada acts once Leon gets involved in the middle of their assignment, quickly figuring that these two must have some sort of history together. She sees a side of Ada she hadn't seen before, and that, inadvertently, makes the agreed upon distance between them shrink.

- Wendy does not get involved much during the events of RE4, but she does keep in close contact with Wesker. His trust in Wendy's loyalty is higher than his trust in Ada's, and that difference grows stronger and stronger, creating tension between the three.

- Wendy feels a bit lost between the two parties for the first time in a while. Ada is more distant with her than ever before, while Wesker grows to rely on her on a much higher level than prior. As Ada goes out of her way to assist Luis and Leon, going against Wesker over and over again, she realizes that she has to choose her loyalties.

- She comes to her decision once Ada retrieves the amber from Leon and they go their separate ways. It's the first time Wendy feels the compulsion to get closer and offer support, not pull away. In a way, her choice is also influenced by Luis' death and his last efforts to do something for other people instead of saving himself. So, when Ada makes the choice to go against Wesker, Wendy follows, despite Ada suggesting for her to do the opposite.

- While they never get together like an official couple, their relationship definitely crosses the line of a romantic one by the time Damnation comes around. Neither party is wanting to put a label on it, however.

- During the events of RE6, Wendy is enraged at the way Carla is using Ada's likeness to smear her reputation. It seems utterly meaningless and illogical to her. While Ada is set on figuring out this mystery and understanding Carla's motives, Wendy is way more interested in eliminating her instead. She also grows to utterly despise Simmons, which is a mutual dislike on his part. In fact, Simmons almost kills Wendy at one point, before Ada swoops in to save her just in time.

- Wendy and Chris get into a brief scuffle before his confrontation with Carla and Leon. While Wendy is not nearly as well-known as Ada, she's still known to associate with the woman in red, promting obvious hostility for her involvement. She's actually a bit responsible for Chris' negative spiral, as she personally views him as a hypocrite who blames everyone around him but himself for his failures, hitting him where it hurts most.

Trivia:

- Wendy is completely neutral about Leon, perhaps viewing him as a bit foolish and naive, but with no further malice than that. She even goes out of her way to assist him in RE6, just out of her fondness for Ada.

- Wendy actually briefly trained Jake on martial arts. While they do not work together often, he does respect her and views her in a high regard. On the other hand, Wendy may or may not have formed a somewhat familial bond to him, although she doesn't admit that to herself.

- She has a passion for fashion design. In her free time, she designs and sews her own clothing, with her apartment being a massive mess to be in. She calls it organized chaos. She very much designs her own outfits and even creates some beautiful designs for Ada as gifts. She used to dream about becoming a fashion designer growing up. Unfortunately, life just didn't work out that way.

- She went through a goth phase in her teens. Her passion for gothic fashion never quite faded, but she's very embarrassed of the fits she used to prance around in at the time. Ada is pretty much the only one who's seen that prized collection of photos.

- Her and Wesker had a relatively good and even somewhat genuine friendship (if you could call it that) before she went on to go against his orders with Ada. Wesker will never admit it to himself, but a part of him felt genuinely blindsided to figure out that Wendy chose to go against him as well. He never fully trusted Ada, but he did trust Wendy. In a sense, Wendy's betrayal is one of the reasons why his relationship with Dave also starts to slowly crumble overtime. She plants that seed of doubt in him.

- Wendy is very knowledgeable on astronomy and is actually a big fan of anything relating to space. The Earth is nothing but constant chaos and mayhem, but out there, with the stars, it's quiet and peaceful. At least that's how she views it. Stargazing is one of her favorite ways to spend time with Ada in their rare moments of calm.

Miscellaneous:

- Wendy/Ada playlist

1 - Picrew Link

2 - Picrew Link

3 - Picrew Link

4 - Picrew Link

Picrew used for the main pic - here!

[twelvefifteencomic]

Bonus Special! - Prologue - 7:00

The sun was skimming low over the city, the warm rays of evening glancing off of skyscrapers’ windows to contrast with the lengthening shadows in the streets below. It was the teetering season between late spring and early summer, and the daylight hours were long. Somewhere in the middle distance, church bells had just finished tolling seven, but it would be some time yet before evening darkened into night.

Neither the time nor the beauty of the day’s end registered to Dee Loveless at the moment. He was busy, partly with lugging a heavy bag out of the backseat of a taxi cab, but mostly with getting shouted at by the driver, who he had nearly forgotten to pay. He’d been lost in his thoughts and now no amount of apologies or assurances seemed to ease the cabby’s annoyance. In the end, it was only after receiving a far heftier tip than he was owed that the driver stopped calling Dee names and left him alone. Hauling the bag over his shoulder, Dee watched the taxi pull away from the curb. He briefly considered tossing a rude gesture into the man’s rear-view, but decided against it. He didn’t particularly fancy being the victim of road rage today. 

Sighing, he turned away from the street. The building that rose up before him matched the address written on the scrap of paper he pulled from his pocket now to double-check. At least, the bronze number by the door and the name of the street sign down at the corner matched what he had been given. When it came to the actual appearance of the place itself… well, he hadn’t really known what to expect. He didn’t know this part of the city well, an eclectic mix of old homes and new businesses. Neon signs and sandwich boards called out their various wares from shopfronts all along the street, but the building in front of him was nothing of the sort. It had the look of a once-magnificent townhouse, with stately stone steps now marred by lichen leading up to a worn oaken door. There was even a large bronze door knocker, like the sort Dee had seen in films. This one was shaped like a lion, a heavy ring clutched in its jaws. Dee stared at it. It seemed to stare back, challenging.

“You’d be much more intimidating if you weren’t right beside a tea shop,” Dee told it as he climbed the steps, pointing at the door knocker’s neighbour. Indeed, in the shadow of the old house was a quaint little storefront, with brightly-lit windows proclaiming a wide assortment of teas and other cheery beverages. “Sorry,” Dee added, patting the lion’s metal mane. It said nothing at all, for it was, in fact, just a door knocker. Dee took a moment to feel a bit daft.

To his mild dismay, this moment was all his brain needed to conjure up all the doubt and unwanted thoughts he’d been doing his best to push to the back of his mind all day. He hesitated on the doorstep. What was he even doing here?

Stop it, he told himself. You know why you’re here.

He’d given himself a talking-to while getting ready that afternoon, the sort that involved a lot of staring at himself sternly in the mirror while engaging in serious internal rationalization. Tabitha would be annoyed with him, he knew. They’d had this get-together planned for ages now, months really, and as much as he had assured her over the phone that he’d still make it in time, a little wheedling voice in the back of his head knew that he wouldn’t. That would defeat the entire purpose of taking this gig in the first place. But Tabitha liked being annoyed, he reasoned (slightly unfairly), so this would just give her fodder for future griping. Hardly the end of the world.

The ring in the lion’s mouth was heavy and Dee, who had never before had the occasion to use a door knocker like this, hesitantly tapped it against the door a couple of times. It made a surprisingly resounding noise. He rocked back on his heels and waited for some sort of response. 

There was a narrow pane of glass set into the centre of the door, allowing the sliver of a view into the house within, overshadowed by Dee’s own reflection staring back at him. While he waited, he looked over his appearance in a final last-minute check:

Hair, looking alright. He ran a self-conscious hand through the dark strands, reinforcing the backward sweep of the quiff. There was just enough gel in it to keep it from getting out of control, without being too obvious. 

Clothes, simple but nice. A plain black shirt and jeans, plus his favourite jacket. Nothing too over the top. He didn’t know how fancy of a party this was supposed to be, but the woman on the phone hadn’t said anything about a dress code, so he’d gone for comfort more than anything. He’d never been big on black tie events anyway.

Face, the same as ever. He’d been told he had a nice one, which was always good to hear. Angular features, clean-shaven at the moment, and sad eyes. He tried on a smile. It didn’t stick. Even in the semi-transparency of his reflection, it didn’t look convincing. He let it fall away and settled for what he hoped was an expression of polite apathy. 

Just in time, too. The sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears and a moment later, the narrow view into the house was blocked by what appeared through the glass to be a mountain of red velvet and hair. The door swung open and Dee had to hop back a step to avoid getting hit by it, nearly stumbling over a potted tree beside the door and backwards down the steps. He caught himself on the iron railing and bit his tongue to keep from swearing. So much for a good first impression.

Standing in the open entryway, the man who had answered the door wasn’t as big as Dee had initially thought. He was tall, to be sure, with several inches of height over Dee (who wasn’t short himself), but not as looming as he had first appeared through the glass. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, though, with a cloud of curly red hair and beard swathing the large majority of his head into hirsute obscurity. He’d made the questionable fashion choice of wearing a full red tracksuit.

“Fuu----uuuh hi!” Dee rallied. He straightened up, adjusting the bag over his shoulder and trying to wish away the flustered colour rising in his face. “Hullo, um, I’m here for a gig?” He had a bad habit of turning statements into questions when he was anxious. Which was often. And, more frustrating still, a habit of being hyper aware of this tic. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m Dee. I’m the singer who was hired for the party.”

“Hm,” said the not-so-giant giant. Dee waited for more. The big man was staring down at him, expression hard to read through all of the hair. Dee got the impression that he’d inadvertently entered a sort of staring contest and after only a few seconds he looked away, uncomfortable.

“Er,” he said. “Is… is this the right place? I’ve the address here--” He started to pull the scribbled address from his pocket again, but the man in the doorway was already nodding. 

“You’re where you’re meant to be,” he told him. He had a deep voice and a rolling, hard-to-place accent. 

“Oh,” said Dee. “Um. Right. Good.” This was turning out to be stressfully awkward. “Can I, er, come inside, then?”

The man stepped aside, allowing him room to walk through the door. The inside of the house maintained the same grandiose, slightly derelict atmosphere as its exterior. Dee looked around. He was in a fairly large entry hall, with high plaster ceilings and a dusty wooden staircase leading away to the upper floors. He’d barely made it three steps into the room before he found himself being pulled up short. A large hand had grabbed the strap of the bag over his shoulder and was holding fast.

“What’s in the bag?” asked the man. His thick brows were now drawn in suspicion.

“Equipment,” Dee explained, perplexed. “Mic, speakers, that sort of thing. The woman who hired me -- Ada? -- she didn’t say whether you lot had any equipment here.”

The explanation seemed to be enough. The hand let go of Dee’s bag, resting briefly on his shoulder before it fell back to the man’s side. “Arden,” he corrected simply. “Good. Follow me.”

Now thoroughly certain he hadn’t asked for enough money for this, Dee followed in the big man’s wake. The stairs creaked under their feet, the only noise as they made their way upstairs. Whoever lived here didn’t seem to put much stock into housekeeping, Dee thought, glancing around. The wallpaper was faded and peeling in places, and everything seemed to be covered in a fine layer of dust. Could be that it was a party house, he supposed, abandoned save for events like this one, when the dwindled grandeur of the place was part of the fun.

They reached a landing on the second floor, but didn’t stop there. As he was led up another flight of stairs, the strains of music and conversation reached Dee’s ears. It grew louder as they reached the third floor landing, where the stairs ended in a long corridor. A grimy stained glass window cast dim coloured light across the carpet at the other end of the hallway, catching the dying sunlight outside. The door closest to the window stood ajar, the music and chatter issuing from within.

“So what’s the party for?” asked Dee, uncomfortable with the contrasting silence there in the corridor. There were unhappy butterflies running amok in his stomach. No matter how many gigs he’d done, no matter the size of the venue, he could never shake the nerves that welled up before a performance.

“Big night,” answered the man in red. “Sort of like a birthday.”

“Sort of--?” Dee was ushered into the room at the end of the corridor by a large hand at his back before he could finish the question. Inside the room, he was greeted by the sight of a larger crowd than he’d been expecting. Normally for things like this he arrived before most of the guests, in order to have time to set up and coordinate with the hosts before the event got underway. If the eclectic group of people already chatting over drinks and swaying to music on the stereo was anything to go by, this party was already underway. The butterflies in his stomach beat their wings harder, unhappy with being caught off-guard. A few people looked his way at the sound of the door shutting behind him and his guide, but no one showed much interest, soon returning to their conversations. Dee felt a brief pang of wistfulness for times past. He hoped that the people here would be a bit more enthusiastic once he started singing. Tonight was already shaping up to be awkward enough, he didn’t need a disinterested audience to top it off. 

“So, uh, any requests?” he asked the big man. It occurred to him that he hadn’t asked the fellow’s name. Then again, he hadn’t been offered it either. “For songs, I mean.”

For the first time since he’d greeted Dee at the door, the other man smiled. Or at the very least, he showed his teeth. “Think you should sing your favourites, mate. The ones you’d sing if it were the last night in the world.”

“Riiiight,” said Dee. 

This was going to be a weird night.