musiisms:

                   something in the darkness
                                   pulled me deeper;
    something in the madness
    eased my mind─
                                                was ɪ awake or was ɪ dreaming?

                                                                                      ── cut the strings that bind me to mankind.

cobrastriike:

T h a t  r i g h t  i s  n o w  m i n e .

perditus-musings:

                                You’ve got no place to HIDE.
                 And I’m feeling like a villain, got a _hunger inside.
                 One look in my ^eyes, and you’re running cause
                          I’m coming going to eat you alive.

dralbertwesker:

♔ 

The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either  r u n  from it or  l e a r n  from it.

urobouros:

VIRAL MARKERS INDICATED THE PRESENCE of acute infection —– his silent hypothesis had been confirmed as true, causing the doctor to experience a momentary semblance metanoia ( however, there was no spirituality involved; god had not been involved in this spectacle: it was surely the work of looming brilliance. ) The dead man stood, statuesque, marbled physiognomy, as ever, applying cold calculation to the situation; whomever had taken the time to invest their efforts into such a monumental project as this now held his puissant acknowledgement. Fissures spread throughout the veritable mirror, ichor leaking from the gaps and coating it in black. The unknown God-King bore witness to his own prophecy now made flesh-form. 

Self-fulfilling, eating your own tail. To look to the future is to look to the past.

“Nothing is sacred, you say…” Albert found himself uttering in response, entirely under his breath; there was a hollow ache in the place where his gut ought to have been. It was only a matter of time until this were to occur – they had always been keen on keeping tissue samples of his on hand. After all, was he not the majority of the fell project’s success rate? 

“The current year is beyond your memory, from the looks of the gear you don.” Outside, it was growing colder. Scattered remains of corpses were hidden beneath the soil and no amount of revamping could remove the stench of rot ( he found he quite preferred it that way, a reminder of things, every now and then, kept a beast man on track. ) 

The man who sold the world tilted his jaw to the side, just-so. “It is the year 2013. What do you recall last, Commander?”

2013. IMPOSSIBLE!

Albert, for all his self-control was not able to feign his surprise as his lips narrowed, for he had clenched his jaw & his fists together. it was far beyond the initial range of years he had initially considered. for one who maneuvered within the shadows, it was oft his role to not merely be playing the game – but to control it, dominate it COMPLETELY. that sense of knowledge, and power was completely non-existent within the moment; without power there was no state of BEING (or so the old Umbrella motto would suggest at the back of his mind).

❝ greatly beyond my memory, it would seem, ❞ he flatly stated, through his clenched teeth. he now stood entirely stock-still before his mirror, he roughly returned his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose proper. he closed his eyes, intent to search through the hazy fragments of his memories to locate something of actual use to his current state. no matter how long it could take, he would have answers.

Arklay’s dim hallways are always present, as is that unmistakable chill of death and nothingness. I can see everything as a researcher, a Captain, but anything after that seems to be an amalgamation. an all consuming sense of fury, one that makes my blood boil and algid weather. Ice, snow accompanied by something else…

lost in thought, and slight discomfort for a period of time until his hands in a subconscious action skimmed against the tactical chest rig that tightly enveloped his chest, in a near suffocating way. deftly, he unbuckled the clasps, in one swift motion the rig was roughly pulled from his form, and unceremoniously discarded upon the floor. the gear was clearly redundant in the circumstance, and thus Albert sought immediate comfort in shifting his form; his back arched as he simultaneously released a deeply satisfied exhale.

❝ my memory seems to unravel beyond this particular facility. however… it would appear that with that title you chose to address me as, I feel a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. one I would equate to victory, but at the same time I feel a sense of disagreement in what year you’ve provided to me. my mind and tongue urge me to say that it is 2003 or 2004 at best to you, my dear omniscient self.  ❞

happymunmusings:

                  𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬 once committed will never disappear .
                  Then I shall shoulder these 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐬 of mine .
                  And learn from them to seize my 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 .