Yeah, I know this is late but can you blame me? Nothing. Fucking. Happens. And this is twenty chapters long! *sighs* I suppose I should just get it over with.Resident Evil: Project Zero -6-"I liked that movie." I said. "Yeah, it's good. Well, you must be tired from the adventure last night." he said. "Yeah." "I'll get you a blanket. You can sleep on the couch. I know leather is not the most com,,," he bagan. "Oh, it's fine. One blanket and a pillow will be okay." I interupted. He just smiled. "Okay then." he said. He went into his room and brought back a blanket and pillow. "Don't worry, they were in the closet." he said. Ha. I just laughed. I relxed my head on the pillow and got warmOh, God... I had completely forgotten about that new batch of fuckery.... I wish it had stayed that way. I also feel as if I shouldn't explain what the hell is wrong with all of that above.I opened my eyes...there was cold under me on my back...was I on the iron table? A heard a door open quickly and loudly and a man stomped in. But it turned out my eyes were not open. Oh, I know his name! Dan...Don...Dave...Davias...Oh, I got it! David! That was his name.
Uhm... What even is this? What's going on?Low voice, tried to open my eyes but couldn't. I hated this iron table! I hated it! Freezing...hard. I have to open my eyes...I have to. I then opened my eyes.
I'm so not even sorry guys! She was actually doing a halfway decent job in making things seem rushed and panicked through this chick's eyes and then all of a sudden "I then opened my eyes!" Oh God, do you know how hilariously bad that is?I caught myself on Chris Redfield's couch. Wow, it was cold like the iron table. But this one was soft and not solid.
I don't think you understand how leather couches work. You fell asleep on the couch, correct? Then it wouldn't be cold, it would be warm where you'd been laying as the material absorbed your body heat.I was rather comfortable but then again it is a leather couch. Not the most comfortable thing ever.
I'm sorry, what? You just said you were comfortable and then in the very next sentence you contradict yourself by implying that you're not comfortable due to the leather couch not being... comfortable. What?I sat up and looked at the window with the black curtains on it. He kept those up?
Is anyone else really confused as to what the hell she's talking about here?I got off of the couch and walked to the kitchen to see what time it was. According to the wallclock, it read 1:02. Did I really sleep for that long? I went to bed at about eightish this morning. I got about four or five hours of sleep...not bad.
*sings* Pointless filler~, pointless filler~, for when you must stretch your paaaageeees~I headed back for the living room and sat back on the couch, not knowing what else to do. I heard something like a glass breaking from the room that Chris was probably in...his bedroom. "Aw!" I heard him. Wow, he broke a vase.
How do you know what he broke? You didn't even go to investigate! He could have dropped a drinking glass for all you know! Just-Does he do that everyday? I heard him start walking for the door. I know I looked like a mess. I probably had dark circles under my eyes, hair that stuck up and left and right, slumped over instead of sitting straight or leaning back on the couch. He walked through the door and saw me awake. I smiled weakly, knowing I must have looked horrible. I didn't really care, as long as I didn't look too bad
which is exactly why I lamented about it in no less than 44 words. "Oh, hi." he said.
Seriously, people, it's bad form when you don't start a new paragraph when someone begins talking."Hey," I replied. He was holding shattered pieces of glass in his hands. Ha...that was actually kind of funny.
How? What? Wh...? How is that imagery funny? In any way? At all?I was embaressed because I looked like a mess and he was because he looked like a klutz at the moment.
And yet you had just said a few sentences ago that you didn't care what you looked like. People, this is why I hate Unreliable Narrator. They're fucking god awful garbage."Hey," I replied. He was holding shattered pieces of glass in his hands. Ha...that was actually kind of funny. I was embaressed because I looked like a mess and he was because he looked like a klutz at the moment.
No, guys, this is not a mistake on my end. I went back and double checked, that was in the original chapter as it was. This is why you need to proofread before you post, people.What else were we suppose to say? I was wondering if I should ask him what happened, but there's no point in making
him feel bad. Not that I thought you could make him feel bad.
That's... just..."Well, I think I'm gonna get in my BSAA uniform soon. I have to go to an Elementary school and tell the fourth grade how to be safe. Don't they already know how?" he complained. I couldn't agree more...why teach them something as easy as "Be safe".
Why indeed? You can't just insert things like this and not explain why he has to do it! That sort of thing is for D.A.R.E. and police officials not military men and women which Chris is.Later, we took a chopper to the White House.
I was tired and disturbed last ride, but now when I was wide awake and not creeped out by zombies
- despite not giving my reading audience any shown indicators that I was, in fact, creeped out by them -, I noticed being on a helicopter was fun! Chris seemed bored on it...must have taken a chopper millions of times. The only reason we were going to the White House was for David and I to meet our partners, and to see what the mission was.
I still can't get over the fact that this writer thinks that this is how protocol works and that any Tom, Dick and Harry can just jump on a mission because they were saved by militant officials during a previous mission.We landed in front of the White House. Chris jumped out and held out is his hand to help me out. We walked for the front door, crossed halls and rooms and finally made it to a room with a long coffee table and bright lights shining off the walls. Jill was already sitting there across from a small girl with short, brown hair. She looked young...in her twenty's maybe.
"Jill, nice to see you after such a...short while." Chris said. Both of them laughed.
"Wait a second...Rebecca? Rebecca Chambers?" Chris asked eyes-wide staring at the other girl.
Rebecca Chambers? You just described this woman with brown hair?Look, I know in the right light that some red-heads look brunette like much of RE0 but Rebecca typically is depicted with red or auburn hair!"Chris? Chris!" she exclaimed. She ran up and gave Chris a small hug."Sorry about that." she said, pulling away slowly. A girl spoke up from behind us.
"I did something like that to an old friend before." she mentioned. She had her short, blond hair tied back in a ponytail and a plaid skirt and long brown, thick boots. I knew who she was! She was the president's daughter, Ashley Graham! I can't beileve I'm meeting her...but I am in the White House so I suppose it makes sence.
Guys, I just... I don't... What even is going on? Why is Ashley Graham here? How long after RE4 is this taking place at?!"Great to see you again, Ms. Graham. Where's your father?" Jill asked standing up.
How frequently do these people come to the White House?! Just because the President is in charge of the military it doesn't mean he sits down with certain individuals just to discuss meetings! So far the only characters in Resident Evil that we know of that know the president for sure are (not including Ashley Graham) Leon Kennedy and - as of RE6 - Helena Harper!"Oh, he'll be here soon. As will your other partners." Graham said. Wow...the president's daughter.
Chris and I took a seat at the very long coffee table. Chris sat by Rebecca and I sat by Jill. Ashley Graham left the room...why did she ever come?
Good fucking question! Care to enlighten us, AUTHOR!? You can't just bring things in and have them walk out without giving them a purpose to be there! It's extremely hideous and garbage writing to just insert characters and situations that have no meaning behind that or would come up later!"Wow, I can't beileve I signed up to do this mission for the BSAA, and I just happen to be working with my old partner, Chris Redfield." Rebecca said. Yeah, that is pretty incredible.
Pixar's 22 Rules of Storytelling: Rule 19; Coincidences that get characters into trouble are great. Coincidences that get them out of it is cheating.
I know it's not quite getting them out of any trouble but Rebecca just coincidentally joining up for a BSAA mission and to work with Chris with no explanation? That's shoddy story-telling and I feel that it counts."Excited, Rebecca?" Chris asked her. She smiled.
"Yes I am but, please call me Rebel. That's what my friends call me. Heehee, after the Raccoon City insident."
... Allow me to explain myself in .gif story formatting:Then, a man with reddish, blond hair walked in who was showing his chest. He was smiling and looked at the group.
"Ooo, look at all these ladies." he lifted an eyebrow and sat on the other side of Jill. He looked over at her. "Do I know you?"
Oh, God...Jill looked at the table and put her hand on her forhead. "Oh no..."
The man just stared at her confused. Obviously Jill knew him and didn't like him. She looked back up at him.
"Hello, Carlos Olivera." Jill said, looking at him with a small smile. They held out their hands and shook. "Who aare you?" he asked.
Why do all Resident Evil Suethors insist on bringing in nearly every - if not all - of the cast of characters for their shitty fics?! This is not realistic and life would not work like this!"Jill Valentine. We escaped Raccoon together. Remember?" she answered. He thought for a moment, and it finally hit him. "Oh! The hot lady in the tubetop. I remember easily." he complimented with a hot smile.
Chris just looked over at him with a "What-the-heck" face. Rebecca and I giggled, Carlos looking over at both of us.
"But you're not the only one who would look good in one." Suddenly, both Rebecca and I stopped. We started to blush, but I wasn't sure if I liked what he said or not. But I had to admit...that felt good.
If you felt good about the 'compliment' than you liked it, you idjit!I felt like breaking up into giggles...weird ones. Like, "Heeeheeheheeehee" but I just couldn't. Jill just rolled her eyes.
WHAT THE HELL EVEN IS THE INTENDED PAIRING IN THIS ANYMORE? AND ALSO KILL ME NOW.A young girl with a cool red vest and jeans walked in. Her brown hair was tied in a ponytail, she had a black, choker necklace and brown boots. Chris stood up and looked at the fashionable girl. "Claire?"
"Chris!" they ran up to eachother and hugged tight. He gave "Claire" a kiss on the forhead. Are they, like, dating or something?
"Oh, I beileve it's the Redfield's!" Jill said excitedly. So, what, they're married? But she dosen't live with him! If she did and she was on vacation or something it was mean of him not to let me sleep in her bed.
"Who's that, Chris?" Rebecca asked. I noticed her voice was kind of high pitched... so was Claire's.
"This is my sister Claire. Claire, that's Jill, Carlos, Joanne, and Rebecca. Haven't seen you in years, what happened?" Chris said, pointing to us as he said our name's and looking over at Claire.
It says a lot about this fanfic that I frequently forget that the protagonist's name is Joanne."I dunno. We just don't talk anymore, I guess." she said kinda sadly. They sat by eachother, talking about what's been going on for the past years. Sheva entered the room. Everyone was talking. Jill with Carlos, Chris with Claire and Rebel,
IT'S REBECCA! REBECCA, REBECCA, REBECCA, REBECCA, REBECCA, REBECCA! and me with nobody. Sheva didn't seem to notice me and joined Carlos and Jill. Next, David came in. He sat by me. We talked. We talked about the mission...whether we were excited or not...what weapons we wanna bring...stuff like that.
Can something actually happen now? This is all soul crushingly boring!There were not as many people as I expected when the president entered the room. President Graham. Ashley Graham followed behind him. She looked disapointed, though. She shut the door behind her and it made a loud "Thump". Heavy door...
Guys, just.... I don't even want to talk about that 'heavy door' thing, okay? Can we just not talk about that? Because that is absolute garbage."Good afternoon, BSAA members and helpers. I would like to explain to all of you your next mission. Mr. Kennedy couldn't make it today...either that or he's just very late. But we have no other choice but to start without him." he explained. He walked to the end of the coffee table and took a seat, setting his hands on the table.
"Okay, this time we..." the president was interupted by the door opening quickly and and in running a man. "Sorry I'm late."
HOT CHILLI SAUCE!!!!!! Who...was....THAT?!?! The room was burning when that sexy thing walked in...
I was seriously about TO MELT!! the man had hot, dirty blond emo-looking hair but he was NOT emo.
The face features....I wanted to die! He was tall and was wearing a brown jacket...is he an angel that came from heaven?
"Aw, Sir Leon Scott Kennedy, so glad you could join us." the president said. Ashley Graham suddenly wiped off that disapointed look. Rebecca looked shocked by looking at him...and Claire looked overjoyed. Back off girls...he's mine.
Wait...Back off girls...he's mine.
Back off girls...he's mine.Back off girls...he's mine.Leon Scott Kennedy, huh? The president made a mistake, though. His name was actually Leon Hot Kennedy.
Claire Redfield
Carlos Olivera
Rebecca Chambers
LEON SCOTT KENNEDY
Oh, my god, would you STOP THAT! You people have no idea the intense amounts of mega-loathing I have for shit-writers who think posting mass-pics will suffice for not describing the characters! JUST STOP IT! STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT! I WILL IMPALE YOU WITH A FUCKING LIGHTNING ROD, OKAY?