Trying to find a game for this big dork.

[wastingaway]

Woah. I was perfectly happy where I was before you pulled me into this headspace of yours, mun. I understand that you're very excited about the new stuff coming down the line. But the last thing I need is you cooing about "poor Chris" or trying to traumatize me any more than I already am.

Besides, you'd just need to update as soon as this new thing launches. And I know you're not very punctual about things like that. So let's just... you know. Think it over before you make any rash decisions.

-I see you looking at that duck place. No. I don't care if he's there. He's dead. I don't want to ever have to deal with him again.

Are you even listening?

Comments

I am sure you are aware I am shamelessly enabling you. <3

[tyranngott]

[And he does, his movements so quick that it literally looks like he's teleporting. He'll reach out to snatch the man by his jaw, lifting him up and off of the ground as though he weighs nothing at all.]

Temper, temper.

Consider me fully enabled and eyeing the reserve page as we speak! -Type! -Whatever.

[wastingaway]

[Ow. Ow. Well, this is a feeling that Chris hasn't missed at all. He might not be able to speak due to the grip on his jaw, but the infuriated look he shoots Wesker should be answer enough.]

[Okay, that, and the kick he aims at his solar plexus.]

/makes an inhuman sound of delight

[tyranngott]

[Enjoy kicking a gut that feels like it's made out of solid steel. Still, Wesker grunts a little, almost carelessly tossing Chris away from him.]</small

/posts reserve!

[wastingaway]

[Aaaah- thud! Good thing the fourth wall was there for him to slam into back-first. Getting up is the first priority. But that throw knocked the wind out of him. Un momento.]

...Ow.

/scream

[tyranngott]

[The mun will just admire that back in the meantime, oh ho ho--]

All that slacking off is doing horrible things to your physique. [Clicking his tongue against his teeth chidingly, pulling his shades off and tucking them away.]

<3

[wastingaway]

It's called "downtime". [What? He can still be a smartass if he wants to. Heck, he can do it and climb back to his feet at the same time! Watch!] Even heroes need a breather.

[tyranngott]

Heroes also tend to save the day, not mope in a corner because there are things they just don't want to deal with. [Yep, sorry, not letting that go, and he'll almost absently draw his own gun.]

[wastingaway]

Have you not been paying attention? I've saved the day at least three times already. You can't blame a guy for wanting it to stay saved.

[And you wonder why he doesn't want to put up with the constant mockery and irritation.]

[tyranngott]

Have you not been paying attention? It doesn't matter how many times you save it if, in the end, you still fail.

[Taking careful aim. Don't disappoint him, Chris. Use that training. Bang bang.]

[wastingaway]

[Miss x2! That last one was a close call, though. Of all the times not to be ale to find a lightswitch...!]

I won't fail!

[tyranngott]

[Very good, Chris, dance for him.]

You'll fail, and everyone else will die for it. [He's moving again quickly, trying to disorientate the man.]

[wastingaway]

[Make me!]

... [He's doing his best to keep up, but damn it, Wesker's a fast little son of a bitch.]

[tyranngott]

[He is, isn't he? He finally does stop, however--and has the gall to twitch his fingers in the universal 'come at me, bro' gesture.]

[wastingaway]

[In the words of... well, the Internet: challenge accepted.

Short version: haymaker punch. Wesker's smug face. Make it happen.]

[tyranngott]

[Try not to break your hand, Chris. Wesker's head snaps to the side, and the punch definitely hurts. Still, the virus in his system has hardened his bones, muscle, and skin, and repair begins almost instantly to fix what had been damaged.]

Ouch. [It's a drawl.]

[wastingaway]

[Sometimes (only really it's quite often), Chris wonders when his life turned into a monster movie. But then something tries to tear his head off and he remembers when.]

Oh look. It can feel pain. ["It". That was on purpose.]

[tyranngott]

Jealousy is so far beneath you, Redfield.

Why, even your sister was more appreciative... [Sorry, he knows some of your trigger points, Chris.]

[wastingaway]

...

[The only response to that is yet another punch to the face. Mentioning the kid sister is not a smart move.]

[tyranngott]

Such a temper. [Idly wiping his face--before his own fist tries to slam itself right into Chris' gut.]

[wastingaway]

[And that single punch makes Chris double up and gasp for air. Good grief. It's like getting hit by a truck. Not even his bulletproof vest can absorb all of the force.]

-!!

[tyranngott]

You see the difference between you and I? [But he loves watching the man writhe like that. He wants to crush him under his heel until Chris is screaming for mercy before he kills him.]

[wastingaway]

[Yeah, yeah, evil villain monologue now. He's still getting his breath back, but he has enough air to snort derisively. The one thing he'll never do is beg for mercy. Not even at the end of the world.]

[tyranngott]

I think I've played with you enough for now. [The shades are sliding back on, and he's stepping back into the shadows.]

Don't get complacent, now.