Unnamed Umbrella Facility. Sssh.

[all_scarry_eyed]

He's got the knife because he's always got the knife, but Krauser's carrying no advanced weapons. Not that he's a particularly reassuring figure without, but it's a psychological thing. The man's willing to take a shot at Wesker. That means reminders of aggression really need to be left in the locker

Comments

[williambirkin]

It was going to be another few months before he was allowed out of containment. After his attack on one of his meal-servers, Wesker had condemned him to another month of confinement until they figured out was exactly wrong with him. Birkin knew what it was, but it was a complicated matter he couldn't fully articulate

[all_scarry_eyed]

Krauser waits out in the hall. The sound continues--it's really not a surprise to him that the cells are soundproofed--but the smell is just as, well, loud

[williambirkin]

The tune was sharply cut off and William just sat, his head lowered.

"Albert cannot handle me himself? How pitiful," the monster spoke as he slowly stood, causing his chains to rattle against each other. "You must unhook me from the wall should you wish to transport me sir-"

He looked up, his bright-blue eyes bloodshot with days on anxiety and mental torment. It seemed it had been quite some time since the last time he slept.

"..Krauser."

[all_scarry_eyed]

Krauser enters, casually sidestepping what looks to him like half a lower jaw. "He appointed me. He's a little busy, himself. Runs an organization, can't think of the name.

"One too many breaks for the door, hunh?" He eyes the chains, trying to guess if the Tyrant could break loose if he really wanted to. They could be there just to remind him he's a prisoner now. They can see how well that worked.

And, wait, recognition? "Yes. But if we've spoken before, there's been a change to the roster. I'm new here. You know about that yourself, of course." Being alive and all.