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"You aren't any better than the gun that you're firing, or the person who's the victim of the barrel."

< Independent RP account for Claire Redfield from Resident Evil. >

nottherookieyouremember:

(Source: skullcracking, via nottherookieyouremember-deactiv)

nottherookieyouremember:

Tch.

Hmhm.

(Source: skullcracking, via nottherookieyouremember-deactiv)

nottherookieyouremember:

Touche.

Heh.

(Source: skullcracking, via nottherookieyouremember-deactiv)

darckcarnival:

Darck’s face became serious. Redfield was in a worse state than she thought, and that was saying something. Gently, she lifted her other hand, resting it on Claire’s shoulder to keep her from moving at all, attempting to help keep her still and thus center her gravity. She may not have been a Creeper yet back then, and was just starting out, but even back then she could read people, and Claire was in no state to do anything.

“I figured it would, but you can also tell why I wouldn’t just out right tell you something like that. Now, Claire, I think you need a little rest before i let you continue on.”

If Claire didn’t have Darck, she would have been a heap on the floor by then. With her movements halted, breathing came a little easier as she kept inhaling sharply and letting it out slowly, going on repeat. Her eyes closed, and all she did was nod. Perhaps she was right. There was no way she could take three steps forward without collapsing. 

"…That, and some water would be nice."

(Source: indefinite-survival)

darckcarnival:

And of course the question of why. Honestly it was so simple to the halfling, and yet so complicated to explain. But, even as Darck tried to find the words, she never let go of Claire. The red head was having trouble standing as it was, and just the feeling of dizzy-ness coming from her friend was enough to make her wanna keep a grip.

“It’s a long story. When I was young, a far more freshly turned vampire, my master was teaching me how to use shadows to teleport and get around. Well.. I got coordinates wrong and end up in Raccoon city, in 98. At first I thought I broke something, stuck in a shadow and couldn’t get out. aaand then I saw what was going on.. Naturally, I flipped out. Thankfully no one could hear me screaming like a baby.” She grinned sheepishly at herself. “Eventually, one thing led too another, and both yours and Leon’s shadows were safer locations. I helped when I could but I was pretty damn useless. Sherry’s shadow too. That’s actually how i know you and him so well, probably explains a bit for you.”

The grip kept her stable, if only for the moment. Claire kept wobbling, swaying left and right for a moment, her head throbbing with the words that Darck spoke. It all made sense.. After all, she expected none less from a top-knotch creeper such as her, and therefore she thought nothing of it. It all made sense.. It all finally clicked together.

"I see," she spoke after a moment of registering her words. “Makes a hell of a lot more sense now..”

(Source: indefinite-survival)

To Another Beginning

agent-with-the-haircut:

The night’s sky was silent, empty beyond what lights flickered in space. Not one person was around. In fact it seemed all that was left was the forest in its own solitude. So when the hectic noise of the dangerously low flying helicopter broke the silence, it was not heard. When the failing vehicle finally crashed to the ground in a flaming wreck, it was not seen. And when the weary, worn form of one certain US agent made his way from the wreckage, there was no one there to help him…

“Well…I guess I know why they never gave me my pilot’s license…” He gave a shuddering laugh and soon regretted it as the pain ran through his body like fire. “Yeah…Not the best time for…jokes, Kennedy…” He walked forward, trying desperately to keep himself standing. But as the darkness started to fill in at the corners of his eyes, he knew he wasn’t going to make it. Even so, he kept walking, until he finally crumbled onto the ground and fell out of consciousness.

Her head throbbed. Pain shot through her veins like a bullet through the mouth that hadn’t quite decided where it wanted to go yet. Her heart slammed hard against her ribcage, and she finally decided to take a stop. Claire knew when to relax. She knew when to stop herself; she knew when to breathe. The engine’s purring was enough to send her into hysterics, but she cut it off.

A deep breath circulated through her system as she leaned forward on the handlebars. Smoke. She smelled smoke. Her head lifted and she raised a hand along with it, shielding her vision, flames licking out toward the edges of the forest slowly. A crash? When the hell did this happen? 

Immediately dismounting and making sure she was armed, Claire set out, ignoring the pain that rattled her bones and coursed through her blood. A few steps, closer, closer — a running, steady pace now.. And she found herself in midst of the heat, practically up against the wall of smoke, inhaling it sharply and trying to look around.

A helicopter. That much she could see. If there was a crashed helicopter, there had to be a pilot—

Her eyes narrowed as she waved the smoke away and she blinked. Confusion. Her head tilted and she ran toward what she thought was a body, kneeling down, checking his pulse. She rolled him over, and looked down at his face before realization smacked her right across the face.

"…Leon…?"

There was no time to ask questions. Not when a man was injured like that, or unconscious for that matter. She shook her head, ignoring the pulsing, moving to grab his arm and shift him, so she was pulling him along, moving said arm around her shoulder and moving him out of the wreck, back toward her motorcycle. 

She ripped off pieces of her shirt and even his own, sliding off his jacket to wrap the cloth around the wounds to suffice for the moment. Claire slid a hand through her hair, frowning, and looking toward the sky. She’d have to make a call or two.. Just to get things done. They both needed help, but he needed it more than she did and she had too many questions.

So she waited, waited for him to wake, pulling out her phone in the meantime and trying to get some sort of reception.

(via agent-with-the-haircut-deactiva)

agent-with-the-haircut replied to your post: Not sure whether to reply to that, or…

You shouuuuullld

On it~

darckcarnival replied to your post: Not sure whether to reply to that, or…

(( *STARES AT INTENTLY* ))

WHAT?

Not sure whether to reply to that, or…

darckcarnival:

With how shaky the Redfield was, Darck wasn’t going to let go any time soon. She just continued to smile, trying to brighten Claire’s day, if even a little bit. All the time, it was all she wanted to do with those close to her, to attempt and make them happy, and give them all the help she could… And maybe, it was about time she stopped being so cryptic and gave some answers.

“It’s simple. My life, and most of my sanity, while it was left, It’s dwindled over the years but eh, better than none.” She half joked, giving a wink.

It helped. Despite the fact that her head was spinning and she felt as if she were spiraling out of control, Darck was helping. Her chest felt tight, her breathing came out a bit shuddered, but she was okay. At least, she was damn well trying to be. Claire’s eyes opened just to stare ahead, and then back toward her. It was still unclear. Still confusing..

"…But why?" she questioned immediately, determined to finally get the answers she wanted.

(Source: indefinite-survival)

Hell.

Fucking.

Yes.

Beeed. Stuff tomorrow. Later~

darckcarnival:

Darck’s expression softened a bit. Her grip gentle but firm as she carefully pulled Claire back to her feet. She would almost always be able to read her friend like an open book, and often it came in handy, like at this moment. Still, she kept the grip on the Redhead’s hand, trying to give some of her confidence over.

Soon enough, she gave that bright grin, albeit fanged, grin. “You don’t owe me anything. Like I said before, it’s be who owes you.”

Claire wobbled, but she caught herself in the end. She should’ve known better that the creeper knew her better than she knew herself. It was always evident in the back of her mind, but sometimes it slipped away from her and she found herself lost in herself on a repeated basis.

It didn’t matter. She still had help. And needed it. “Please. What could you possibly owe me after all of this…?”

(Source: indefinite-survival)