Much appreciated. There are... worse things here than I, capable of far more damage. [He says this completely serious, not a trace of flippancy.]
One of several timelines that are or could be or could have been in our shared world. But I believe we share the same one, albeit with a different outcome for me. However, that's something better discussed face to face. ----- [The barkeep might have one hand under the counter as the door opens wider before closing and a soft, but measured footstep strides across the floor, accompanied by the creak of a leather coat. The shadow creeps up the wall behind the counter.]
A bottle of the usual red wine, if it's available today, Emenri?
[The barkeep gives the newcomer a nod and goes in search of the interloper's request.]
Well. At last encountering the fellow who bedeviled me in that Spanish village. Greetings, Mister Kennedy.
[If he looks up, he'll find the bane of his world of origin standing behind the barstool next to his. Wesker appears to have gone native, given the Victorian-esque three piece suit he's wearing under his black leather duster. Outside of that, with his hair slicked back and the dark glasses hiding his eyes and the small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, he's unmistakable.]
no subject
Much appreciated. There are... worse things here than I, capable of far more damage. [He says this completely serious, not a trace of flippancy.]
One of several timelines that are or could be or could have been in our shared world. But I believe we share the same one, albeit with a different outcome for me. However, that's something better discussed face to face.
-----
[The barkeep might have one hand under the counter as the door opens wider before closing and a soft, but measured footstep strides across the floor, accompanied by the creak of a leather coat. The shadow creeps up the wall behind the counter.]
A bottle of the usual red wine, if it's available today, Emenri?
[The barkeep gives the newcomer a nod and goes in search of the interloper's request.]
Well. At last encountering the fellow who bedeviled me in that Spanish village. Greetings, Mister Kennedy.
[If he looks up, he'll find the bane of his world of origin standing behind the barstool next to his. Wesker appears to have gone native, given the Victorian-esque three piece suit he's wearing under his black leather duster. Outside of that, with his hair slicked back and the dark glasses hiding his eyes and the small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, he's unmistakable.]