Post by King of Cunts on Dec 6, 2012 11:46:43 GMT -5
The mansion was little more than a distant shape on the horizon at this juncture. All the same, he would reach it soon. He kept his pace measured, unhurried, determined not to rush what would no doubt be an enjoyable reunion with the men and women he had gathered within the mansion. No doubt Jonathan and Christopher had already crossed paths. Whether his scion, or his enemy’s sister, had also made contact was still a possibility, if not a certainty. He imagined it would be an eventful occurrence when they finally encountered one another.
There were animals in the forest, whose purpose was primarily to discourage escape via normal means. There was a game to be played, after all, and a board on which it was to be situated. The area outside of that ground was off limits to the players, and he would punish those who strayed harshly.
They were of no concern to him, of course. The infected ignored him because he did not smell edible to them, as surely as even ordinary human olfaction could determine that they were decaying. While a Tyrant might have attacked him if its orders did not preclude it, he had not seen fit to litter the outlying grounds with those expensive specimens.
To think that this event had all come about from an offhanded comment from an acquaintance. Doctor Lovette had always had a certain clairvoyance when it came to recommending how he should spend his vast amounts of time and wealth. He had insisted that Wesker was bored and, though he would certainly never admit to such a failing, he had been forced to concede inwardly that this was true. Lovette’s insistence that he find a hobby to amuse himself, perhaps spend time with family, had not fallen upon deaf ears.
In fact, Wesker’s reunion with his long lost brother was rapidly approaching.
There were animals in the forest, whose purpose was primarily to discourage escape via normal means. There was a game to be played, after all, and a board on which it was to be situated. The area outside of that ground was off limits to the players, and he would punish those who strayed harshly.
They were of no concern to him, of course. The infected ignored him because he did not smell edible to them, as surely as even ordinary human olfaction could determine that they were decaying. While a Tyrant might have attacked him if its orders did not preclude it, he had not seen fit to litter the outlying grounds with those expensive specimens.
To think that this event had all come about from an offhanded comment from an acquaintance. Doctor Lovette had always had a certain clairvoyance when it came to recommending how he should spend his vast amounts of time and wealth. He had insisted that Wesker was bored and, though he would certainly never admit to such a failing, he had been forced to concede inwardly that this was true. Lovette’s insistence that he find a hobby to amuse himself, perhaps spend time with family, had not fallen upon deaf ears.
In fact, Wesker’s reunion with his long lost brother was rapidly approaching.
