All good things come to an end.
Things were going well for Alice, all things considered. She had a home - albeit one with a leaky roof - some friends, or at least people who didn't want to kill her on sight, and a life. It was an unusual feeling, not having to run all the time, being able to stay in one place without fear of being hunted down by Umbrella or the undead. She hadn't entirely gotten used to it yet, but she was at the stage where she was no longer looking over her shoulder all the time, no longer wondering when it was all going to end.
The way she saw it, if the world ended tomorrow, she'd already been through it once and survived. One more time wasn't going to kill her. And if it did...well, she wasn't going to go out without putting up a decent fucking fight.
But right now, fighting was the last thing on her mind. Right now, she was sitting in her hut reading a book. She wasn't sure what it was about, couldn't remember the title or the main characters, but simply the act of being able to sit still and read was a luxury she hadn't been able to afford for a long time.
She licked her finger and turned a page, reading idly a passage about a girl with flowing blonde locks and big blue eyes and a flattering bodice. Typical damsel in distress. Always needing a guy on a white horse to ride to the rescue. Alice couldn't relate - she'd always been the one to ride to her own rescue.
Her literary reverie was broken abruptly by a sound. A thud, or a sigh - she couldn't make out what it was, but it had been close. Alice put down her book and got up, retrieving one of her pistols before leaving the hut to investigate.
She found the source of the sound by the waterfall. It was a body. Her body. Blood stained the red dress she wore a darker crimson where the bullet wounds had pierced her flesh, and trickled out the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were wide open, staring, blank and lifeless. She was unaccountably dead. Unaccountably Alice, and Alice stared down at her, hardly aware of the yell she let out, the tears searing her cheeks hotly as she knelt by the body, her body, took it into her arms and sobbed, the blood staining her hands and her clothes but she didn't care because it was her blood, her body, and she was dead.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head violently, stroking her dead counterpart's hair, pressing her face into her neck. "No..." This couldn't be happening. Not here. Not now. "Not here."
[OOC: Not exactly a great time to meet her, but still, feel free. She'll need some comforting. The body is Alice's - or, more specifically, one of her clones created by Umbrella to experiment on. This particular one was killed in training by gunshot wounds to the stomach. Squints, IPD and doctors, have at, even though Alice may be a bit insensible at first. See this post in slated if you need more details!]
The way she saw it, if the world ended tomorrow, she'd already been through it once and survived. One more time wasn't going to kill her. And if it did...well, she wasn't going to go out without putting up a decent fucking fight.
But right now, fighting was the last thing on her mind. Right now, she was sitting in her hut reading a book. She wasn't sure what it was about, couldn't remember the title or the main characters, but simply the act of being able to sit still and read was a luxury she hadn't been able to afford for a long time.
She licked her finger and turned a page, reading idly a passage about a girl with flowing blonde locks and big blue eyes and a flattering bodice. Typical damsel in distress. Always needing a guy on a white horse to ride to the rescue. Alice couldn't relate - she'd always been the one to ride to her own rescue.
Her literary reverie was broken abruptly by a sound. A thud, or a sigh - she couldn't make out what it was, but it had been close. Alice put down her book and got up, retrieving one of her pistols before leaving the hut to investigate.
She found the source of the sound by the waterfall. It was a body. Her body. Blood stained the red dress she wore a darker crimson where the bullet wounds had pierced her flesh, and trickled out the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were wide open, staring, blank and lifeless. She was unaccountably dead. Unaccountably Alice, and Alice stared down at her, hardly aware of the yell she let out, the tears searing her cheeks hotly as she knelt by the body, her body, took it into her arms and sobbed, the blood staining her hands and her clothes but she didn't care because it was her blood, her body, and she was dead.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head violently, stroking her dead counterpart's hair, pressing her face into her neck. "No..." This couldn't be happening. Not here. Not now. "Not here."
[OOC: Not exactly a great time to meet her, but still, feel free. She'll need some comforting. The body is Alice's - or, more specifically, one of her clones created by Umbrella to experiment on. This particular one was killed in training by gunshot wounds to the stomach. Squints, IPD and doctors, have at, even though Alice may be a bit insensible at first. See this post in slated if you need more details!]