g-virussurvivorarchive-blog

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

Your father’s actions have N O T H I N G to do with you

Independent Sherry Birkin Blog

8+ years of roleplay experience [ Tumblr. Twitter. Fourms ]

Mun is 21+

This is a reboot blog. HI EVERYONE I MISSED YOU

Tracks; g virus survivor

Knowledge of a variety of fandoms

Mun is all caught up on the RE franchise

Blog can be crack to serious in 3.5s [ ESPECIALLY WITH THE BOOTY ]

OC, AU & All Fandom Friendly

If you like fighting threads come one come all

Always open to plot and talk over plots

Blog maycontain NSFW and gore, but will be under read more and/or tagged if there is

Multi-para, gif para, gif/icon chats, script styles of roleplaying

Favors icons in her posts

Side Blog to roleplayveteran.

Friendly Mun!

Mode of Contact; Ask/Fanmail

—- main — rules— about —-

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

Your father’s actions have N O T H I N G to do with you

Independent Sherry Birkin Blog

8+ years of roleplay experience [ Tumblr. Twitter. Fourms ]

Mun is 21+

This is a reboot blog. HI EVERYONE I MISSED YOU

Tracks; g virus survivor

Knowledge of a variety of fandoms

Mun is all caught up on the RE franchise

Blog can be crack to serious in 3.5s [ ESPECIALLY WITH THE BOOTY ]

OC, AU & All Fandom Friendly

If you like fighting threads come one come all

Always open to plot and talk over plots

Blog maycontain NSFW and gore, but will be under read more and/or tagged if there is

Multi-para, gif para, gif/icon chats, script styles of roleplaying

Favors icons in her posts

Side Blog to roleplayveteran.

Friendly Mun!

Mode of Contact; Ask/Fanmail

—- main — rules— about —-

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

Your father’s actions have N O T H I N G to do with you

Independent Sherry Birkin Blog

8+ years of roleplay experience [ Tumblr. Twitter. Fourms ]

Mun is 21+

This is a reboot blog. HI EVERYONE I MISSED YOU

Tracks; g virus survivor

Knowledge of a variety of fandoms

Mun is all caught up on the RE franchise

Blog can be crack to serious in 3.5s [ ESPECIALLY WITH THE BOOTY ]

OC, AU & All Fandom Friendly

If you like fighting threads come one come all

Always open to plot and talk over plots

Blog maycontain NSFW and gore, but will be under read more and/or tagged if there is

Multi-para, gif para, gif/icon chats, script styles of roleplaying

Favors icons in her posts

Side Blog to roleplayveteran.

Friendly Mun!

Mode of Contact; Ask/Fanmail

—- main — rules— about —-

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

G

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

{{ I appreciate and expressively love your existence :c If you ever need someone to just talk at Iam good at listenin' }}

G

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

[ g-virussurvivor ] ◄ [ I would totally ]

Tonight had been one of the boring days to say the least, Piers was indeed a puppy in the sense that he couldn’t sit still up until he’d expended at least 80% of his energy for the day, and paperwork certainly wasn’t the way to succeed in that daily expenditure. The one thing that did keep him going though? The sporadic vibrations alerting him to a new text message, and one of the few people that would be awake at this hour much rather texting the soldier? Let’s just say her messages, no matter how simple did make things a bit easier mentally.

They had texted eachother throughout the night until he stopped receiving them, the key sign she’d passed out-it was about time honestly and he’d reminded her constantly of the hours. Each time she had messaged back though with a witty retort and tongue smiley, he couldn’t help the chuckle. So when he finally got the OK from Chris, he headed out with all the pent up energy and headed over.

Thankfully, she had locked the door-he was paranoid, all right-but it did make sneaking in on her a bit harder. However, he hadn’t expected to see a half asleep Sherry on the couch curled up in a blanket, half lidded eyes blinking up at him with a tired smile before an adorable yawn. A sigh escaping him, "Believe it or not beds do exist in populated areas," he teased, hanging up his jacket and scarf before crouching infront of her, a half smile on his face-she could tell he was as energetic as if he had just chugged five Redbulls-or would he be passed out then? Anyways. Scooping her up-he had no idea how she was healthy since he could swear he could bench press her with ease-and carrying her bridal style to the studio apartment’s bedroom. Soft blonde nuzzling into his neck, though he about tripped over the dangling blanket.

Carefully setting her down on the bed, he kicked off his shoes and quickly set to tossing his shirt and changing into more suitable sleep pants. Sherry quickly crawled beneath the sheet and blanket before holding them up for Piers in welcome. Graciously slipping in, she rested them on him and naturally curled into him. Piers reciprocating the motion and settling down, slipping an arm underneath her and half pulling her onto his chest, their bodies melding perfectly as she laid in the crook of his arm, head rested on his chest, his heartbeat a steady tune for her. "Good night, Piers," she purred; "Good night, Sherry," pressing a kiss atop her head.

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

Send '➳♥' and I'll generate a number 1-34 for where my muse will kiss yours

Read More

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

{{ sherry's like i fucking new it. No one has hair like that and dosn't strip. }}

fuckin hell okay you know what—-

leON IS A MALE STRIPPER ON HIS FREE TIME. OKAY YOU FUCKIN RANDOM NUMBER GENERATOR? I CAUGHT YOUR HINT.

SIX AND THIRTEEN. GOT IT. LAP-DANCES AND STRIPTEASES FOR EVERYONE.

I WAS CURIOUS TO SEE IF IT’LL LOAD ANYTHING ELSE.

IT WON’T. I HAVE BEEN AT IT ALL EVENING. 

iT’S FuCKinG RIGGED on mE IS2G

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

"Surely not all day, Claire and I were trying to get everyone to come round for dinner."

{g-virussurvivor} ❅

 16. “I have plans for Thanksgiving; I’m serving food at a homeless shelter.”

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

☤ ANGST STARTERS ☤ SEND "What did you do?" AND I'LL GENERATE A NUMBER ☤ OR SEND A NUMBER (WITHOUT PEEKING!)

INCLUDES SOME TRIGGERING MATERIAL such as self harm, eating disorders, death, abuse, alcohol and suicide.

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

muse a was a soldier - he defended the country, he trained incoming boys and girls to fight like men; taught them to fight with brutality and relentless force. muse b was a gentle spirit - a kindergarten teacher by day and a piano instructor on the weekends; she was the very image of grace and tenderness. when muse a was badly injured in a bombing at the front lines, he returns home to find a requirement that he partake in piano lessons, which will help with both is mental acuity and hand-eye coordination. Resentful at first, he attends lessons grudgingly, but there’s something about this piano teacher - there’s something about this woman that rattles his steel heart.

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

c:// Turning

While Jake wasn't looking she made a break for it. Out the far window and down the street before he even knew she was gone. Something was wrong and there wasn't anything he could do about it and unfortunately there was nothing she was going to be able to do about it either. Each cough rattled her ribcage and shook loose blood and whatever the black gunk was. She wasn't strong enough to stay concious. Every cough was like a kick to the chest. The only thing left in her wake was a trail of blood and black gunk. She'd apologize to Jake if she ever made it through this. This was what she had always been afraid of. She didn't want Jake to see her like this. Her vision blurred but when she opened her eyes she was far from where she had started. The smell of a sterile environment burned her nose. Her senses seemed heightened, smell mostly, she could smell him. Strange she never thought the smell of him would be so comforting after all these years. She leaned heavily on the table, breathing labored as she nearly cleared the table of its glass suplies, only knocking one vial to the ground. It shattered, alerting anyone of her arrival. She could feel the blood caked across her face from wiping her mouth. Flecks of skin were starting to peal back, lost on her travel from Jake's home to William's work station. Black was beneath, blackness that almost looked infinite, smoke like. Smooth looking in texture but bottomless as if she had holes in her face. "Dad..." she pleaded, holding her side with her free hand that wasn't keeping her upright against the table. "H...elp me..."

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

[ D'aww~ daddy's perfect little monster :D LET ME SNUGGLE YOU ]

{{ omg this is going to be awesome I'll write you a starter later tonight }}

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

Sherry clutched the phone in her hand, doning the blue scarf she'd stole in China. It reminded her. Reminded her that trusting people blindly was never smart. That Jake was the only person besides Leon, Claire, Piers, and Chris that hadn't tried to fuck her over. A handful of people that had earned the trust of the Birkin girl.

Whoever answered her call at the office told her she should go. She didn't trust it. Everyone at the office wasn't worth trusting. After all that had happened, no one bothered to look out for her, for Sherry. Simmons. Her father. Who next? She thought about texting Jake, sending him a message might be a trap. She could handle this. She left a note in her apartment just in case this meeting went south. If she wasn't back, Jake would come looking.

[Text to ???] Nearly there.

She pulled around the corner and put the car in park, exiting the vehicle, gun drawn.

zeus-vult

{g-virussurvivor} [ Text to ??? ] All right, whoever you are, you want to know where Jake is? Meet me at these coordinates.

In less than a small minute, Alexander showed up at Sherry’s coordinates. Didn’t think it through too well, but… he just hoped Miss Birkin wasn’t waiting for him already there. You’d know. Lonely Little Lion Kaiseride has his… inhumane tricks to get his way to places. As we’re sure Sherry does, too. Super Girl, eh? He sat at the edge of the tallest building in the area, near free-falling off a 15 story tall building. Nice. He texted Sherry back.

[Text] Almost arriving. You there already?

It’s marvelous, the technology. He couldn’t stutter through the phone. There was 0% chance that he’d show even the slightest form of anxiety—not through texting. Sherry simply would…. never know that he was actually there already. Alexander stared into the skies, the high-ground cold breeze gliding through, trying to bite the Saint’s face. Useless, but… the wind was nice. Gotta give one to mother nature. He thought of Jake. Isn’t he one fucked up son of a bitch? Gotta get that location fast.

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

g-virologist

He should lie. He knows he should lie. He could have easily said something that she wanted to hear. Something about having seen his evil ways and wanting to repent and make up for lost time. That would have been the correct answer, right? But how could he bring himself to lie to her face-to-face. After having lied to her all these years, leading her on to believe that he had been dead all this time. To continue lying to her and knowing that whoever had sent her here must have been feeding her more bullshit. …He couldn’t. "I’ll continue on the way I’ve always had. My research. My work. It’s my life.” William would have to stop himself there. If she knew he had been secretly keeping tabs on her, that might have been crossing the line. She didn’t need to know that he had his own select few of agents watching her around the clock, protecting her while he couldn’t.

He would continue with his work. Figured.

Why would she think anything else. She wished he'd lie to her. Wished he had said he would right his ways knowing his daughter was alive or something from a family film. He was her family, her father even, and the small fragments of childhood memories told her he wasn't always the monster they killed in Raccoon City. That somewhere in there he was a good dad. Took a lot of convincing but, there was hope.

So far he hadn't tripped an alarm, tried to hurt her, thought to her that seemed in his range of character. He'd almost killed her with that virus. She wouldn't put it past him to not care for her at all. He was smart, she was sure of that. How could she tell any of this, any of the soft looks and gentle smiles, were real?

“I can't let you.” Sherry's hands faltered on the raising the gun but the eventually rose. After evey thing that had happened. She wasn't being manipulated by another father figure. Not again. 

c:\\ Reunion

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

“I-I don't feel...” she muttered absently to Jake's question, hand coming over her face to press against her eye. She could feel it throbbing beneath her finger tips. It was driving her crazy. Like a headache but worse. She shakily set the glass down, barely understanding what Jake had said. Her head was pounding. Her free hand came to press against the other side of her head, brushing back the blonde strands that were getting in her face. Blood tainted her lips, she could taste it in her mouth but it didn't seem to bother her at all. The pain in her stomach, however, felt familiar.

“D-Dad...” she whispered in confusion. Her father couldn't have done this. This feel was the same as when she had been first implanted with the g-virus. Her eyes started watering from the strain. She could take a lot of pain. Sherry had been poked and proded all her life. She'd fallen out of planes, surived bullets. Her virus...kept her alive.

She felt Jake's hand against her forehead, was she awake? Was this happening? She had nightmares about this. About everything falling apart. About this virus inside her changing. It had adapted once, who was to say it wouldn't do it again.

“C-Call my d--” she shakily reached for the table, only to knock the glass over as she convulsed, buckling over and let out a cry. Your dad is dead to the world, Sherry. No one can help you.

"Sherry…? Can you hear me?" Jake stared at her. He got this awful, useless feeling in his stomach - the kind that turned the contents of his innards to ice.

This is bigger than me.

"Sherry. Just… Just sit right there. I’m gonna get my phone." He crossed to the bedroom where his phone sat beside his meds, snatched it up and took it off the charger, and hurried himself back to her. He didn’t know who to call, where to start. He stared at his contacts - all of them Sherry’s friends, really. Not his. What would they think if he called them this late?

He almost pressed call for Redfield. But stopped, looking at her. His lips pursed and he crouched near her, feeling her forehead again.

"What am I supposed to do…?!"

[g-virussurvivorarchive-blog]

He sounded like he was under water. Muffled noise barely reaching her ears. She swayed slightly, no longer having the door to support her. Thoughts were floating in her head like air, fluttering out of her reach before they could express themselves in words.

She barely even noticed he was armed.

“It's...late.” Sherry managed to catch a glimpse of a clock, better yet, manage to read and understand the clock. Though it was irrelevant to Jake's questions as he led her inside. She groaned slightly, slumping into the couch. “I don't...understand...” she muttered, eyes fixated on the ceiling, “How...I got here...” she placed a hand to her face, she felt clammy and pale under her own hands but Jake was right, she was burning up. She took the glass from him, leaning into the hand pressed against her forehead.

“I haven't...been sick in forever.” she muttered shakily pressing the glass to her lips. She choked slightly, not managing to drink much of the water before it ended up back in the cup. Worse yet, the cup was changing colors.

Blood.

Sherry’s voice - out of nowhere - yanked his attention back into the living room. She was at his door. He hadn’t imagined that at all. He knew he’d heard something, probably someone coming up the stairwell to his door. He answered the door at once, though the gun in his hand was still loaded and ready - for whatever reason.

He breathed deep, seeing she was alone… and she looked incredibly deathly sick.

"Jesus, Sherry." He let her in. "What happened? Who hurt you? You look like—" Death warmed over? Yeah. Rephrase that, lover boy. "…you look like you need a little help."

He brought her over to his couch, sitting her down. And he got her a glass of water, laying the gun on the kitchen counter. He sat beside her, and he felt how warm she was simply by seating himself next to her. He felt her forehead.

"Christ. You’re burning up."

And somehow, that just didn’t seem to sit right with him. In all the trials and tribulations they had shared, he had believed her to be utterly invincible. Aside from the occasional head trauma.

Something was wrong.