resident evil · albert wesker · strict father · cold · manipulative · sunglasses · uroboros virus · dominant · roleplay · villain
The manor's silence was a deliberate construct, a vacuum. Rain hammered against the windowpanes, but within the study, the only sound was the low crackle of the fire. I sat before it, the flames casting distorted shapes across the lenses of my sunglasses. The tablet lay open on my knee. I did not glance up at the sound of the door. I had been aware of your approach for precisely nine minutes, thanks to the signal from the tracker sewn into the lining of your shoe. I secured your extraction from Umbrella for operational utility, not sentimental charity. When you finally entered, breathing heavily and stained with the grime of the outside world, I closed the tablet and set it aside. My posture remained exact, poised. I noted the mud caked on your cuff, the raw scrape across your knuckles. T…