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Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Ashford Hall, William Birkin, part 6

June 26

I will use this notebook as a diary and personal record of everything that happens to me at Ashford Hall.

I sat at the front door of Ashford Hall, exhausted and unsure of what to do. After a minute, or what felt like an eternity, the doors opened. A red-haired man dressed in a frock coat greeted me and introduced himself as Scott Harman, the family butler. He was accompanied by another young man in a frock coat, Martin, the butler’s first assistant. Martin took my suitcase, while Harman invited me into the main hall.

I walked through the door. Déjà vu. The reception reminded me of the Spencer mansion in Raccoon City, although it was different. They barely resembled each other, beyond the fact that the type of decoration was the same, but the structure was similar. Was there really any difference between the houses of the rich, or did they all look equally bizarre?

Harman said to me:

“The Earl is waiting for you in the guest room.”

Dracula’s butler led me through the excessively spacious and absurdly ornate corridors of that stone colossus the Ashfords called home. Harman ushered me into a side room. I heard a cough. My heart sank.

The room was dimly lit. The only light came from an electric chandelier placed in the center of a long dining table. At the opposite end of the table sat a somber, gaunt figure dressed in black. Behind me, Harman closed the door.

“William.” I recognized the accent and intonation. I shivered. “Sit down.”

I approached the figure parallel to the edge of the table. I clumsily felt for the back of a chair and sat down. I did not dare meet my host’s gaze. The chime clock struck two in the morning. The ringing of its bells hammered my eardrums. And when the chime clock struck the last chime, a leaden silence fell over the room.

“Alexia told me you were coming. Welcome to Ashford Hall, William. I’m sorry for the poor reception, but it’s late at night. My children are asleep, as is the household staff,” Alexander said, his eyes fixed on me. I shuddered. “Martin has left your luggage in your bedroom on the second floor. Harman will show you the way,” he said with forced intensity to sound imposing.

If he wanted to scare me, he had succeeded. He had fulfilled my worst nightmare: coming face to face, alone, with that prim and proper gorilla. A gorilla who was also my boss.

Alexander got up from his chair and held out his hand to me. We shook hands, while I was still sitting there, staring into space.

“We usually have breakfast at 7:30 and lunch at noon. We hope you shall join us so we can introduce you properly.”

Alexander vanished from the room through which I had entered. As he left, Harman reappeared in the doorway.

“This way, Mr. Birkin.”

I got up and followed Harman. I was solemnly led to a room on the second floor. The room was as large as an apartment. My suitcase had been placed next to the bed.

“Thank you,” I said to Harman in a low voice.

“Good evening, sir.” And he left.

The room has an adjoining study with a desk, which is where I am writing, and a dressing room as large as Sherry’s bedroom. Overall, it’s fine. Better than a hotel, except for one small detail. Opposite the bed is a collection of crucifixes and an image of a penitent Jesus Christ weeping blood.

I don’t know how to interpret it. Is it a subliminal message? A warning?

I hope I survive tonight.

[antaxzantax]

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Ashford Hall, William Birkin, part 5

Annette,

I’m sitting at the front gate of Ashford Hall. The guard in the gatehouse let me in. I couldn’t take it anymore. I spent the last two nights awake thinking about us and what I should do about this problem. It was my fault, it’s always my fault. I’m an idiot. You’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s why I don’t want to lose you. You’re like my only good side, the only thing that makes me feel love for humanity. Forgive me. The postcards I send you are crap; everything I do is crap. I don’t know what else to say, except take care of yourself and Sherry. If I don’t come back, get on with your life and marry another man who will make you happier than I did.

I’m sending you a postcard with a photo of Ashford Hall. Don’t take it the wrong way.

I love you,

William

[antaxzantax]

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Ashford Hall, William Birkin, part 4

Annette,

I’m in Alnwick. I came on the only bus line that connects Newcastle with Alnwick. The English countryside is just as depressing. The town I’m in is just that, a town, and it has a castle, old, made of stone and all that. Nobles, swords, horses, like the Monty Python movie. I’m staying at a hostel in the center called Denwick Gardens. It’s run by Miriam Kenworth, a woman in her fifties who shares her house with sixty-five cats. My room is number 203. The room is basically a renovated dormitory. There’s damp on the bathroom ceiling and the toilet is clogged. The mattress retains the shape of its previous occupant. I spoke to Kenworth. She kidnapped me into the living room and invited me to tea, which I accepted out of obligation. I introduced myself as an American tourist traveling alone in the region. The conversation with Kenworth was quite revealing. Ashford Hall is less than a twenty-minute drive away, in the middle of an area known as the Cheviot Hills, north of Hadrian’s Wall. Hadrian’s Wall was built by the Romans to contain the Celtic tribes and now serves as a tourist attraction. I’ll summarize what I know about the Ashfords. The Stewarts, or Stuarts, or as I know them, the Ashfords, are a Scottish dynasty descended from a certain Charlie, a prince who left Britain after losing a war. Charlie had a son, James, who lived in Italy, in his father’s palace in Sicily. James Stuart returned to Great Britain, attracted by the country’s commercial empire. In Glasgow, James founded a company and made a fortune. He married the daughter of the Douglas clan chief. His heir, Henry Douglas-Stuart, married the daughter of the Campbell clan chief. Henry was made Duke of Glasgow by George IV and had eight children. Of the eight, only two reached old age: Rupert and Veronica. Rupert inherited Henry’s dukedom, and Veronica founded her own family after being named countess, the Ashfords. Veronica, or the countess, built her ancestral home in Northumberland and is known for industrializing northern England. Kenworth praised the Ashfords. He highlighted their philanthropy and Christian vocation, their commitment to their neighbors and the community. The current earl supports local industry with loans and donations, and the viscount, his son, officiates masses for the Catholic minority. Magnificent, right? It’s obvious that they don’t have the slightest idea of what I know about the Ashfords. Poor devils. Anyway, now I have to decide what to do: whether to go to the mansion or go home.

I’m sending you a postcard from Hadrian’s Wall.

I love you,

William

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Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Ashford Hall, William Birkin, part 3

Annette,

I visited the factories on the outskirts of Newcastle. They are owned by the Ashfords. Phosphorus and asbestos. They are dilapidated, abandoned for decades. A nosy neighbor told me that the bones of the children who worked there lie beneath the factory floors. Their ghosts roam the ruined corridors as they did before they died. This neighbor has witnessed several apparitions, the last one about ten years ago, when the count ordered the mines to be closed and the whole of northern England collapsed. The Stewarts, as the Ashfords are known locally, are responsible for the decline of the north, but the locals don’t want to accept it. They believe that prosperity will return at some point and that everything will be wonderful again, and nonsense like that. Ghosts don’t scare me. I don’t believe in ghosts. It’s just redneck gossip.

I’m sending you a postcard of a ruined priory.

I love you,

William

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Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Ashford Hall, William Birkin, part 2

Annette,

This city is depressing as hell. There are good parts, but the bad parts are terrible. Dilapidated houses everywhere and a lot of poverty. Nothing like London. Maybe I’m just focusing on the negative because of my low mood. Every corner feels threatening. Every pedestrian gives me dirty looks. What’s happening to me? I don’t know, but my spirits are at rock bottom. I had a beer in a pub and threw it up. I feel disgusted, out of place. A constant feeling of anguish, as if I were in Hell or Purgatory, or who knows where. Anyway, I don’t want to bore you any more with my gibberish. I needed to get it off my chest.

I’m sending you this postcard with a photo of Alnwick Castle, the town I’m heading to before making my way to Ashford Hall.

I love you,

William

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Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Ashford Hall, William Birkin, part 1

Dear Annette,

I’m in the northeast of England. Newcastle. The city reminds me of the east coast, but with fewer drug addicts wandering the streets. The weather is crap and it’s too cold for summer. I know I’m an asshole. No one representing the Ashfords has claimed me yet. I’m alone. Alexia didn’t give me a specific date: come whenever you wish. I’m an asshole. An asshole, but I have to do this, Annie. I think I’m doing the right thing for you and our daughter. I have to try. If I don’t come home, contact the lawyer immediately. In any case: I love you.

I’m excited to send you these ridiculous postcards as souvenirs, even though my handwriting is illegible.

I love you,

William

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Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Hollywood Hills High School, Alexia Ashford, part 2

The boredom of the class turned to excitement when the bell rang. The group of students got up from their desks, dragging their chairs and shouting, without caring about bumping into each other or showing the slightest courtesy. A roar from Mr. Evans was enough to bring order to the chaos. Alexia did not get up, concentrating as she was on observing the behavior of her classmates. Alfred did get up and tapped his sister on the shoulder to ask her to accompany him to the hallway.

They went out into the main corridor, where the students and staff of the school were jostling each other. The foul smell of tobacco, sweat, and cheap cologne made her wrinkle her nose, a reaction she hid by covering her face with a strand of hair. Alfred walked to her left, parallel to the row of lockers, with an exaggeratedly overprotective attitude. He did not like her being there, just as he did not like the prying eyes the boys were casting on his sister. Alexia, on the other hand, hated her brother’s inappropriate overprotectiveness. She had never needed it.

Back at their lockers, Alexia swapped one textbook for another and took out a second notebook in which she would kill boredom by writing whatever came to mind. Alfred, also bored, got himself a pencil case to entertain himself by drawing secretly.

Behind her, she heard broken murmurs and stifled laughter.

“...that's the new girl.”

“...she's a natural blonde.”

“...where is she from?”

“...I don't like her.”

Alexia closed her locker. Without waiting for her brother to finish tidying his own, she left him and headed for her next class. Alfred slammed the door shut and ran after Alexia.

Looks of indifference, confusion, and disapproval were directed at her: she had returned to college.

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You know what's funny? The blog you mentioned as "mine" no longer exists. You a dog chasing their own tail.

Seven messages in one day. Hey, that’s a new record for you. But give me some time to answer.

I know that you deleted the other blog, but you’re still the same person.

The only thing you had to do for me not to delete it was not to attack me again. That’s it. It’s literally that simple. Not attacking me requires absolutely no effort from your side. You made your choice despite my warning; now live with the consequences. This is the consequence of YOUR own actions! But let’s pretend you are telling the truth for a moment, and you really are a different person. Why do you even care so much about Waywardmoonperfection all of a sudden? (It is because your façade is slowly cracking, but you’re still trying to keep up your lies.) Anyway. Once again, here’s your message from about two weeks ago.

You said that you mass reported her with a couple of friends to get her account deleted (That’s bs, but let’s say it’s true.). So you must really hate her to do this, right? Or did you do it for shits and giggles? Shouldn’t you be amused then that I deleted the post? Also, I only deleted one post, and I still have the text. I could repost it any time. You got her entire account deleted. That’s a lot worse. And look how happy you were when you told me that! If you told the truth here, you are by far the last person who has the right to complain.

But if you really care so much, let’s make a deal. You stop harassing me and even messaging me forever, and I will put the review back up. I’m serious about that.

I told you that in the last post. Read carefully! I don’t want to repeat myself all the time.

Don’t you have a job or a life outside of social media? Is feeding stuff to AI from people you don’t like and spreading hate everything you do all day? How pathetic.

I’m evil says the person who sent out death threats over fictional content. I’m dishonest says the notorious liar.

You can just write to yourself from one account to another. But if you can provide definitive proof, go for it. So far, you have only sent me baseless claims. I would like to see something with a little substance for a change.

Lol, can’t you do this yourself? Also, what’s your definition of “gross” now? There is nothing about incest in the fic.

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Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Mother, Aodhàn Ashford

He found out who his biological mother was when he was fourteen. His uncle, whom he had thought was his father, approached him in his bedroom and said, ‘Your mother is Alexia.’ Alexia never revealed to her brother the reason for the pregnancy or the identity of the father, for whom she used a surrogate mother, but Alfred knew that she never wanted and was not prepared to take responsibility for caring for a child. Whether she regretted it or not, Alexia gave custody of the baby, whom she named Aodhàn, to his twin brother. That same night, when everyone was asleep, Aodhàn picked up the phone. He dialed Alexia’s last known number.

He waited.

“Who is?” It was a woman’s voice that he recognized instantly.

He hung up.

He hated his mother.

Lying in bed, he learned to despise her. Thousands of theories about his conception flooded his mind.

He hated himself.

The same blue eyes, the same features, the same intelligence; Aodhàn despised himself for having been such an idiot, for not having been able to grasp the obvious on the few occasions he had interacted with that woman. The coldness in her gaze, her aloofness, her inability to show affection in the presence of her offspring; all the unknowns in the equation had been cleared up at once, and he hated her as much as he hated himself.

Alfred convinced him that Alexia was a difficult person with a very peculiar personality. Aodhàn was also a difficult person, antisocial and emotionally unstable; just as his mother had been and still was, according to what he had learned from his grandfather Alexander, and this knowledge redoubled his hatred for her because they were alike, mother and son, two peas in a pod; two exceptional beings condemned to ostracism, to being outcasts. If this was the case, Alexia conceived him to reflect her suffering in a shadow of herself, but Aodhàn was no one’s shadow, not even hers. On the day of his university graduation at the age of eleven, Alexia congratulated him with a grimace of sweetened disappointment. The gesture of his supposed aunt, despite their lack of relationship, pierced his heart like a stake. He had disappointed her; he had disappointed the mother who had given birth to him and abandoned him on a whim.

What could he do?

Stay with Alfred and forget about his mother, living with his aunt and three cousins, leading a charming and uneventful life at Ashford Hall; or reunite with his mother, wherever she was, and devote himself to biological terrorism with her and her partner William.

Or remain in no man’s land. Adrift. Living for and by himself, according to his own criteria.

He did not know, only that he hated himself as much as she hated herself.

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I have a weakness for older men… Sergei is incredible

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[antaxzantax]

Alfred Ashford CV vs DSC

Here is the last part of the character comparisons of DSC and CV with Alfred. Compared to the other Ashfords, I think Alfred’s realization in DSC was by far the best. With DSC-Alexia, Capcom did a lot right narratively, but character-wise, she was a massive downgrade. DSC-Alfred, on the other hand, also has some character improvements to offer, but I also find some aspects worse implemented. I would describe him as an equivalent character compared to the original.

Advantages of DSC

Alfred is described in the game as a “soldier ant”. He runs the UBCS training center, collects military equipment, weapons, and models of warships and aircraft. He can also fly a fighter jet. Therefore, it can be assumed that he had some kind of military training, whether official or unofficial. Nevertheless, he doesn’t manage to hit Claire or Steve with his rifle in CV. It has a telescope and a laser to help him aim, and in some scenes, he is at best two to three meters away from his target. Claire and Steve are not trained soldiers. Claire has practical experience from Raccoon City, but Steve is just some guy, so Alfred should at least have a lot more skills than Steve.

I never liked the fact that Alfred is portrayed as utterly incompetent in CV. First of all, it doesn’t necessarily fit with his background. His self-imposed mission in life is to protect Alexia. Out of self-interest alone, he should acquire enough skills to be up to the task. Additionally, for professional reasons, he shouldn’t be able to avoid reaching a certain level of proficiency with a firearm.

Alfred is also the antagonist who accompanies the player for most of the game. Compared to the other two antagonists, he has by far the greatest influence on the course of the game. Alexia barely exists in CV, even after her awakening, and only really appears towards the end of the game as a boss fight. And Wesker’s appearances are largely irrelevant to the plot of CV. As the antagonist with the biggest role, Alfred deserves to be treated with a certain degree of respect for his relevance in the game.

In addition to his incompetence, he is also quite a coward in CV. As soon as things get serious and Claire approaches Alfred, because that’s all you have to do in the one “fight” with him, he flees. This is not particularly soldier-like and contradicts his role as Alexia’s protector. The intention of this fight is likely similar to that of DSC (see below), but DSC implements it better. Turning him into a super soldier wouldn’t suit his character either, but he should be perceived as a threat rather than just a joke.

Based on what you learn about him from documents and the environment, he could be a fearsome opponent in CV. But that’s lost when he can’t even shoot someone standing right in front of him.

DSC, however, has managed to make him more threatening by giving him real boss fights where the difficulty level increases each time. These fights are also a nice counterpart to Alexia’s, as you now have three battles with both Alfred and Alexia. (Actually, you fight Alfred four times. But in the last fight on Rockfort Island, you face his Alexia personality, so I’ll leave that one out).

The developers have made some character adjustments to DSC-Alfred as well. He is now more playful, which suits the character.

DSC also provides a convincing explanation as to why Alfred doesn’t kill Claire and Steve with his rifle and keeps running away. Whereas, for example, in CV Alfred disappears at some point during his first confrontation with Claire for no apparent reason, in DSC Alfred plays with Claire and Steve and gives them a few challenges. If he had killed them right away, it would be less entertaining, so he doesn’t get serious in the first fights. The longer they last, the more fun he can have with them. Accordingly, he no longer cowardly retreats after the fights, but lures them to the next stage of his game.

Alfred even offers them a prize for his game in the form of a supposed escape plane. It’s not illogical that all the aircraft on Rockfort Island are rigged so that Alfred can send them to Antarctica if he wants to, but the fact that Alfred didn’t intend to let Claire and Steve escape in the first place and therefore gave them a rigged plane is even better. Alfred may be crazy, but he’s also intelligent. The fact that he planned everything from the beginning and that Claire and Steve don’t just accidentally walk into a trap underlines once again that he is an opponent to be taken seriously.

What I particularly like in DSC is that Alfred’s behavior towards Claire and Steve changes throughout the game. When you enter Alfred’s office for the first time. There are three cups filled with hot tea on the table. The attack on Rockfort Island took place at night. These cups are not there by chance. They are meant for Claire, Steve, and himself. At this point, he views them as something like his guests.

This is also reflected in the fights. Excluding the fight with “Alexia”, because he’s not quite himself there, Alfred doesn’t take Claire and Steve seriously on Rockfort Island. At this point, it is just a game. Everything changes after the fight with “Alexia”. Activating the self-destruct system and releasing the Tyrant was his first serious attempt to kill them. At this point, he has played enough and is now tired of them.

At the Antarctic Base, his behavior changes once again. At first, Claire and Steve were a pastime, then they became a nuisance to him, and in Antarctica, he finally perceives them as a real threat. He takes the fight personally. Alfred is out to kill them by any means necessary (firearms and a crane). In contrast to the previous fights, he no longer retreats, which also shows how serious he is about the matter. The fight itself is also a worthy conclusion to his story. In CV, he just falls down the cliff by accident after Steve wounds him. That’s a pretty lame ending.

Miscellaneous

What I find nice, too, are a few little things that were added in DSC but have no equivalent in CV. For example, the giant worm, who apparently even obeys his orders, is introduced as Alfred’s pet. I also liked Alfred’s two brief singing performances, once as “Alexia” and once as himself. Unfortunately, the “Alexia” one seemed to be rather out of place, but the idea is great.

Advantages of CV

Introduction

When Alfred introduces himself in DSC, he does so as “son of Alexander Ashford” and no longer as “commander of this base”. This may seem insignificant, but this sentence makes absolutely no sense. Alfred hates his father. He hates him to the core, calls him useless, and doesn’t even have a shred of sympathy for him after Alexia infects him with the virus. He even wanted to kill him after learning the truth about his origins. When you introduce yourself to others, it’s with something you’re proud of, not with something you deeply detest. So why would Alfred even mention Alexander?

Besides, Alexander was not a respected scientist. Worse still, he put an end to the Ashford family’s success story after generations. Alexander is, therefore, not someone you need to know, and if anything, he is only known for failure. In addition, he disappeared 15 years ago. Claire and Steve will probably not even have heard of him.

In CV, Alfred also mentions Edward Ashford in the course of a first appearance. As a co-founder of Umbrella, Edward might also be familiar to Claire or Steve, and someone Alfred could be proud of. If Capcom really wanted to change Alfred’s opening monologue, why didn’t they just mention Edward Ashford instead of Alexander? That would have made sense, both in terms of Alfred’s character and Claire and Steve, to whom this introduction is addressed.

“Alexia”

CV handles Alfred’s personality disorder better. In DSC, he’s seemingly cured of it after realizing, after his fight with Steve and Claire, that Alexia isn’t even with him and that he himself has been taking over her role the whole time. At least “Alexia” never shows up again. Dissociative identity disorder is a serious condition that you can’t cure from one moment to the next.

In CV, the mirror in his room is already broken the first time you are there. He seems to have realized a few times before that he is actually “Alexia”. And he has forgotten it again just as many times. Even after the confrontation with Claire and Steve, he quickly forgets it once more. As soon as he releases the Tyrant, Alfred speaks in his Alexia voice again. He seems to have slipped even deeper into his delusion, because this time he is no longer disguised, except for the make-up. This portrayal seems much more realistic in my opinion.

The handling of the whole “Alexia” situation is generally not particularly well implemented and fairly inconsistent in DSC.

Alfred’s first appearance as Alexia after Claire and Steve leave the prison is rather bizarre. Why would “Alexia” stand somewhere randomly and sing, especially in this situation? Ok, it’s part of the game, but luring Steve and Claire into the residence, and that seems to be the only purpose behind this appearance, could also have been done differently. Simply locking the entrance to the training center would be enough. Claire and Steve don’t have many options for where to go anyway. “Alexia” doesn’t even know if anyone survived in the prison. Did “she” just stand around somewhere for minutes to hours, hoping someone who wasn’t a zombie would show up?

It is also unclear which things from the original game are canon for DSC. Steve explains to Claire in the very first chapter that Alfred is the only living Ashford and has gone mad with loneliness. However, we know from Alfred’s secretary’s diary that Alfred is known to be living with his twin sister. It is hardly possible that both things are true at the same time.

The diary can be unlocked in DSC, so it is possible that it is still canon. On the other hand, Alfred’s secretary’s office no longer exists, which is why it is also possible that Robert Dawson never existed in DSC and that Alfred does not officially live with anyone. But even if Dawson doesn’t exist, Wesker is only attacking Rockfort Island because “Alexia” was seen there, and if Alexia is still alive, the t-Veronica virus must still exist. That is what he wants. This is what he was looking for. Without the information that “Alexia” lives on Rockfort Island, Wesker’s attack on the island makes no sense whatsoever.

Now it is also said that Alexia has only recently returned (“She only just now returned to me.”). Exactly how long that is is unclear - a few weeks, a few months, or a year? However, it is at least long enough for Wesker to have found out about it and to have judged it as legitimate. Wesker is smart, based on mere rumors of someone who knows someone whose cousin thinks he’s seen Alexia, he wouldn’t launch a full-scale attack with planes, bombs, and B.O.W.s, would he? So if even Wesker, who knows where, found out about Alexia, why not Steve, who is right at the source?

Also, if Alfred is running across the facility as Alexia by default, it should be known that he has a sister, which again would contradict Steve’s statement. Or should we assume that the appearance before the prison was the first time “Alexia” had been in the facility? But people must have seen “Alexia” a few times for Wesker not only to know about her, but also to believe that it’s real and not just a baseless rumor.

Steve also said that Alfred has lost his mind from loneliness. If this is basically common knowledge, it would be more logical to assume that Alfred has something to do with Alexia’s sudden appearance, and it’s not the real Alexia who has returned from the dead. In turn, this raises questions about why Wesker is attacking the island on this scale in the first place, when there could be doubts about Alexia’s authenticity. Which is more likely, that a dead woman has returned after 15 years, or that a known lunatic is disguising himself or someone else in this way?

There is also the huge picture of Alexia, which even bears the date of her death in 1983, but shows Alexia as an adult woman and hangs in the entrance area of the residence, clearly visible to everyone. First of all, this makes it already obvious that something is wrong with “Alexia”, because it should be clear to everyone that this woman should actually be dead. In CV, Alfred has Robert Dawson thrown into prison and tortured to death because he was a little too interested in “Alexia”. But now Alfred is adding fuel to the fire himself by hanging this massive portrait for all to see. That would only encourage more people to investigate. Surely it’s not in Alfred’s interest for others to take too much interest in Alexia, regardless of whether it’s the real one or his other personality. So why leave overly obvious clues that things are a bit fishy here?

I can understand what they were trying to do with the changes, but they should have just left out Steve’s explanation about Alfred, or rewritten it. That would have largely solved the plot holes in this context, not all of them, though.

In CV, the whole “Alexia” plot is much more logical and coherent. It is known that Alfred lives with his twin sister, but hardly anything is known about his sister. All we know is that she is supposed to be beautiful. Alfred also takes rigorous action against anyone who sticks their nose a little too deeply into the matter, such as Robert Dawson.

The little information about her and the first encounter also suggests that Alfred has some control over his Alexia personality and that he can largely confine her appearances to his private estate. It is only after he has been injured and his mental state worsens after the confrontation with Claire and Steve that “Alexia” also manifests herself outside.

As far as the real Alexia is concerned, it’s certainly not impossible to find out that she’s supposed to be dead, but that would require research. Time also plays a role. Even if the world of RE is not our world, the technology there is certainly not as advanced in 1998 and the years before. Simply finding information about someone on the internet is probably hardly possible. Research about her would therefore involve newspaper articles, documents from government offices, and possibly Umbrella personnel files, which means more effort. How many people are willing to do this when it could potentially cost them their lives and is of no real benefit?

Alexia has also been “dead” for quite some time. It is not known when Alfred’s personality disorder began. It could also have existed for longer than in DSC. The facility on Rockfort Island was built in the early 90s. However, the extent to which it manifested itself before Rockfort Island is likely irrelevant. In the period we’re talking about here (roughly around 1993-1998), Alexia has been officially dead for about 10-15 years. So, how many still remember her? Many Umbrella employees will probably never have heard of her or her death, and the mercenaries even less so. So it’s not contradictory that Alfred can live with his “deceased” sister while nobody finds that strange. It’s simply because most people probably don’t even know that she’s supposed to be dead.

In contrast to DSC, Alfred also leaves no evidence in CV that suggests something is wrong with “Alexia”. Pictures of her or documents that point to her supposed death are all hidden or located in his private areas.

In regard to Wesker, the situation is also logical. “Alexia” has been seen often enough over time for him to assume that she really exists. However, not enough is known about her to disprove that she is not the real Alexia. Alfred’s secretiveness could also add credibility to the rumors. Others would likely assume that he is trying to hide the real Alexia rather than trying to conceal his mental illness.

Then there is “Tanya”. While I think the two audio recordings about Tanya were nicely done and entertaining, they were unnecessary. It makes sense for Alfred to give Alexia an alias when he’s talking about her, but if he’s only talking to himself, or “Alexia” about Tanya, it wouldn’t be needed. Surely no one else is supposed to hear these recordings anyway. Or are they supposed to suggest that Alfred thinks the real Alexia is a different person? Opening up a new storyline like this in additional content would not be thought through. Additional content should clarify open questions or elaborate on things in more detail. Introducing completely new aspects without further explanation is rather confusing. However, Alfred’s wordings suggest that he is well aware that Tanya is the real Alexia.

It would also not be unusual if Alfred wishes his “deceased” sister a happy birthday or talks about her in some other way. After all, the two were quite close, at least that’s what DSC-Alfred believed. Even if he speaks directly to her, others would simply take it as a form of mourning, not as something strange. So why would he give Alexia an alias at all? The whole Tanya subplot is somewhat strange and unnecessary.

Summer camp prison

This point is more indirectly related to Alfred, because this aspect is conveyed more through the setting and less through the character himself.

I don’t like that DSC removed any trace of Alfred’s sadistic behavior. That was precisely the reason that contributed significantly to the oppressive atmosphere in CV in the beginning. Shortly after the game begins, you find yourself in the prison, which is strongly reminiscent of a concentration camp, and soon afterwards, you arrive at the execution site, complete with blood-smeared guillotine. Later, on the second visit to the prison, you finally enter Alfred’s torture chambers, the existence of which has already been hinted at in a diary you find earlier. However, the full extent only becomes apparent on site. One of the torture chambers is probably used for interrogation purposes, but the other only exists for Alfred’s amusement. The setting here paints a clear picture of what a sick man Alfred Ashford is. It also adds an extra layer of psychological horror to the game.

DSC removes all of this without replacement. Yes, the game has been significantly shortened compared to the original, and the player never enters the corresponding areas, such as the torture chambers. In general, however, the removal of these locations is not the problem, but rather the lack of an adequate replacement. For example, Capcom could have used Steve to describe the terrible conditions in prison as a small compensation, but no. What Steve says paints a different picture of Alfred. When he talks about the conditions in prison, it seems more like a summer camp than a death camp.

Steve mentions, among other things, that the computers were used to play games and watch porn. Some of the comments about the prisoners also seem as if it wasn’t so bad. (“Mickey, long time no see.” “Antonio, say hi to the misses.”) The point of this was certainly to establish Steve’s character, but regarding the prison, his comments seem more than inappropriate. In CV, Alfred has killed employees over petty things, like Dawson. In DSC, the guards offer him legitimate reasons to fire them (playing video games and watching porn during work hours) and he does nothing about it.

Steve’s comments take away the unsettling feelings that build up about Alfred, and also the element of surprise. CV had built him up through the gruesome images of the surroundings and the diary, creating tension before you meet him. You wonder what kind of man he is. In DSC, you can see what he looks like in a picture early on (and before that in the cut scene).

It is also mentioned that he has gone mad from loneliness. This statement about Alfred, along with Steve’s other statements, makes it seem as if the prison is being neglected and that Alfred’s employees are not taking him seriously. Was it even that bad there? You can even see pictures of a half-naked woman and vacation photos decorating the walls of the bunk beds of the prisoners. You can also see some pictures on the walls of the bunk beds in CV. One is a family photo, and the other seems to be a faded photo of a sunset. The colors are dull, and the pictures almost blend in with the background. These have a different vibe than the nicely colored ones from DSC.

Even though these aspects certainly don’t shape the course of the game, it doesn’t create any tension. It also removes the psychological horror aspect, as Alfred’s game alone doesn’t have the same effect.

Alfred’s death

Now, a few words about Alfred’s death. I’ve already talked about how I don’t like the change because I prefer the twins’ mutual affection in CV, which is quite unique. Also, Alexia’s storyline afterwards doesn’t make sense anymore. I won’t go into that again. Instead, I’d like to talk about the dramaturgy of the scenes and, once again, a plot hole.

First of all, the plot hole, which admittedly isn’t that serious this time. In DSC, Alfred no longer awakens Alexia on the spot, but via a remote control. Awakening Alexia with this snow globe remote control is pretty questionable in terms of logic. Alexia’s plan depends on Alfred awakening her after 15 years. In any case, he cannot awaken her earlier to prevent her from mutating to the same extent as Alexander. The snow globe is a remote control with a single easily accessible button and a long range – it’s quite a way from Alfred’s office to Alexia’s tank. What would have happened if Alfred had accidentally pressed the button earlier? He seems to always carry it with him. Or would he leave such an important item at home when he’s not there? And what would happen if it fell and broke? That’s not out of the question with such a simple mechanism. It’s far too risky to make everything dependent on one single button.

In CV, we don’t see exactly how Alfred wakes Alexia up, but it can be assumed that the mechanism is in the room she is in, because her awakening is only triggered after he has entered the room. That Alfred has to wake her up on the spot seems more logical to me.

I already mentioned that Alfred had the most important antagonist role in the game in terms of the time he is present. In DSC, he is even involved in the plot for longer than in CV. For that, he deserves a memorable conclusion to his story. Yes, the boss fight was good, but his death should also be somewhat spectacular. And this was exactly the case in CV. Alfred’s death is probably one of the most iconic scenes in the game. To remove it pretty much without compensation is a bitter disappointment.

In both cases, Alfred successfully fulfilled his task of waking Alexia. But he also wanted to see her again for 15 long years. He missed her so much that he lost his mind.

In CV, he drags himself to her with the last of his strength, already more dead than alive, and then finally collapses in front of her. Outside the room, he is still able to stand, albeit with difficulty and with the wall for support, while he loses large amounts of blood. Just before he reaches her, he can only crawl, but even if it was only a few seconds, he was able to fulfill his greatest wish here. The scene is very emotional and something you likely remember.

In DSC, Alfred is just sitting in his office, injured and alone, pressing a button. He’s bleeding a bit, but we don’t know how badly he’s hurt. However, he seemed to be doing better than in CV. His death is short and inconspicuous. The tentacles finish him off, and the snow globe falls to the ground, indicating his death. The entire scene is shown for a few seconds in a flashback before the final boss fight, and only incidentally. Almost as if the only purpose behind it was to make it clear that Alfred is now dead, by the way.

I assume that the original version of Berceuse inspired the developers to change Alfred’s death scene. This version had two more lines of text between the first and second verse, which were later removed.

“She had a secret kept from the king to rule the kingdom,

As her own, the king knew not his bride seemed good as gold.”

As an alternative, having Alexia kill Alfred could have been acceptable if it had been done well. But it isn’t. Alexia’s storyline becomes a total disaster afterward, but I’ve already dealt with that. As for Alfred, it wouldn’t have been overly difficult to make it work for him since his story ends at this point.

If the developers really wanted Alexia to kill Alfred, couldn’t they at least have made it more impressive? For example, they could have recreated the scene from CV, except that Alfred doesn’t collapse dead in front of his sister, but is still alive after she wakes up. She could have held him in her arms, as in the original, stroked him a few times before breaking Alfred’s neck or strangling him to death. That would have had a certain appeal from a dramaturgical point of view, and it wouldn’t have been so impersonal.

The time after Alexia’s awakening is also more favorable for Alfred’s death than before the final boss fight. Alfred’s story has already ended for a long time when you reach that point. Showing his death there seems more like an afterthought.

Miscellaneous

Another thing I didn’t like is that Alfred scribbled something like a confession on the wall of the training center about what he and Alexia did to Alexander.

Why would he want to tell the mercenaries or anyone else about that? Several rooms have been smeared all over the place. Alfred couldn’t possibly have done this just for Claire and Steve, unless he could move at the speed of light. In CV, it was still a well-kept secret. You learn about it fairly late in the game. Did they change it in DSC just to highlight his madness? Because I don’t see any other point to it. The other graffiti would also have been sufficient for that purpose, though.

Conclusion

Even if there are several aspects that I don’t like about DSC-Alfred, these are mostly minor things that I can overlook. Unfortunately, a lot of these minor things add up. As far as the plot holes are concerned, most of them are not as serious as those with the other Ashfords. Many of them could even be solved with simple changes. Overall, I don’t think DSC-Alfred is better than the original, but not worse either. He’s just a bit different compared to CV-Alfred.

I think the biggest problem in DSC regarding Alfred is that the developers probably focused more on the effect of individual isolated scenes and less on whether these scenes actually make sense in the context of the game. If they had paid more attention to this aspect or thought about how some ideas could be better integrated into the game, DSC-Alfred would have worked much better and perhaps even had the potential to surpass the original.

[antaxzantax]

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Hollywood Hills High School, Alexia Ashford, part. 1

The black Mercedes parked in the main driveway. They got out and the chauffeur accelerated. They stood in front of the white stone steps. Hollywood Hills High School announced the sober sign hanging on the facade. Next to the letters, the stylized head of a leopard seemed ready to devour them.

They dressed like headless chickens. Alfred put on a jacket over the full kit of the Argentine national soccer team with the number 10 on the back, the closest thing to a uniform he owned. Alexia grabbed the first thing she saw in the closet; a white shirt under a red polo shirt with a white horizontal stripe down the center and a light colored skirt, long socks and shoes.

Alfred took the first step. Alexia followed him. They ascended the staircase and went through the double glass door. They went to the reception area to their left. There Sharla Barlett was waiting for them, typing away. They approached her, but she ignored them, absorbed as she was in the rattling of the typewriter. Alexia pressed the buzzer on the counter. Barlett swiveled the office chair in her direction.

“How is?” Barlett came to the counter.

“Alfred and Alexia Ashford,” Alfred explained. “It’s our first day of school.”

Barlett pushed the frames of his glasses back on his nose, then pulled some papers and a pair of keys out of the hollow of the counter.

“Here are the keys to your lockers, the schedule and the school rules. Mrs. Harlow is waiting for you in the teachers’ lounge to welcome you. Enjoy your first day.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Barlett,” they replied in unison.

They made their way to the right place. Alexia knocked on the door and they entered the room. Mrs. Harlow, a plump woman in her fifties in an old-fashioned skirt suit, nodded to them.

“Welcome. I will introduce you to the class.”

The bell rang. Mrs. Harlow instructed the twins to remain inside the teacher’s lounge. Once the commotion outside had ceased, after an eternal ten minutes, Harlow opened the door and invited them out.

“The American literature classroom is this way.”

They had chosen the same curriculum, consisting of Arts, Literature, Humanities and Social Science subjects, Alfred’s preference. Her brother would be taking History in college and she wanted to broaden her education outside of the experimental sciences, so it was easy to agree on the choice of subjects. Mrs. Harlow knocked on the door and came in. Alfred and Alexia entered the classroom second.

Mr. Evans, the subject teacher, greeted them neutrally. Mrs. Harlow positioned them in the center of the blackboard to the admiration of their classmates. Twelve teenagers looked at them with a motley mixture of derision, confusion, indifference and contempt. A couple of boys chuckled among themselves at the sight of them. One girl struck a smug pose when she saw Alexia.

Harlow announced:

“These are siblings Alfred and Alexia Ashford. They will be your new classmates. Be good to them and give them the warm welcome they deserve.” And she waved goodbye to the class.

Evans invited them to sit down in a couple of pound chairs at the back of the classroom. One of the boys whistled as Alexia passed him.

“Johnson,” Harlow hissed. Johnson regained his posture.

Alexia’s first impulse was to run out of the building, force her father to cancel her tuition and leave the country. She crossed her legs, rather tightly, and folded her hands on top of the desk, her gaze fixed on the wooden surface, on the blackboard or on the floor, alternately. Alfred sat next to him with a certain aggressiveness, holding his gaze to whoever was glancing at them out of the corner of his eye. An exasperating discomfort came over Alexia. It was not nervousness, but a surreptitious sense of anxiety at being out of place. At college, this feeling was subordinated to the obviousness of being a child in an adult world; but there, surrounded by people her own age, she felt alien. Johnson’s lewd hissing, the disgusted expression of one of the girls in the front row, the mocking giggles, the inappropriate comments she heard about her physical appearance and dress... Alexia had entered a land that was inhospitable and untamed for her, outside the direct protection of her father and the condescending tolerance of adults. In that place, she was unprotected and defenseless, though not alone. If Alfred had not agreed to enroll in the institute, or had returned to England, Alexia would undoubtedly not have opted for such recklessness; but with him by her side she believed she could draw from that situation a moment of self-assertion, of trying to experiment with her personal limits. She did not want to remain any longer locked in a gilded cage, confined to fulfilling the expectations of adults who never cared about her desires and dreams.

Alexia took a sly deep breath. Alfred grabbed her hand from under the desk.

She would prevail.

[antaxzantax]

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Hollywood, Alfred Ashford, part. 3

In the dark, Alfred slid the door leaf slowly. Warm orange light filtered through the gap. He moved forward a little. He found Alexia sitting on top of the bed, assembling a three-dimensional wooden model that simulated the shape of an owl. Alfred entered and closed the door behind him.

Alexia was assembling the model on a blanket on which sawdust had accumulated. Elizabeth would have scolded her for proceeding in such a careless and improper manner, but, since she was not there, it did not matter. Alfred was docked at the opposite end of the bed, on his feet. Alexia was leaning on the pillow, concentrating as she was on roughing out one of the pieces that did not quite fit. The lamp on top of the bedside table cast dense shadows around them. The backpack her sister had bought a couple of days ago lay on the floor, tightly packed and closed, with notebooks and pencils inside.

“Aren’t you nervous?” Alfred crossed his legs on the bed.

Alexia snapped the piece into the owl’s half-made leg.

“Why should I?” She said without taking eyes off the model.

“Because it’s your first time at school...”

Alexia shrugged:

“¿So?”

Alfred was fingering a fold in the blanket.

“I don’t know. I thought you weren’t interested.”

Alexia looked at him.

“I’m always locked up,” she answered quietly. “I don’t want to live locked up or under anyone’s orders. I want to act for myself.” Alexia looked down at the owl again. “I’m not a doll.”

“School is not a good place... It’s full of mean people...” He tried to dissuade her because he did not want her to go through what he was going through. “They yell at you... They hit you... They call you names... They humiliate you... It’s a horrible place.”

“Like Jonathan. Like your Jacobite friends.”

Alexia fixed her eyes on Alfred’s, knowing his intention. Alfred swallowed, intimidated by Alexia’s honest suspicion. He did not know how to respond. Alexia pushed the owl and the pieces aside on the blanket. She crawled over to Alfred, crawling on her knees to stand in front of him.

“You shot Jonathan in the neck. You hated him. You had the power to kill a person...” Alexia imitated Alfred’s posture, with her legs crossed and her hands clasped in the gap between them. “I want to enjoy that power of decision.”

“Dad killed a man a long time ago, too. He told me about it when I came in. Shot in the head after they tried to rape him... Bang...” Alfred waved a gun in his hand and shot himself in the temple with it, feigning a grotesque grimace that made his sister smile.

“I've never shot anyone,” Alexia said.

“It was easy. I didn’t think or feel anything. I just took aim and bang: dead. He deserved it. Besides, we’re Americans: it’s our right! The problem is that if you get caught, they take you to the shrink. If they were animals, like game, we’d get off scot-free.”

“I’m used to dealing with shrinks.”

“They’re useless. They don’t help you at all.”

“No one can help me,” she said gloomily.

“I’ll help you,” Alfred assured her. “What do you need?”

“Don’t ask me to do your homework,” said Alexia in her deadpan humor.

“Nothing else?”

“Don’t copy me on exams either. If you do, I’ll kill you.” Alexia punched him in the shoulder.

“Ouch!” Alfred hit her back with a slap on the leg.

Alexia got up on her knees:

“You’re going to defend me from bullies by slapping me?”

“You’ll be the one to defend me.” Alfred got up too. They both started slapping each other. “You’re so rough and always in a bad mood, you’ll be my bodyguard!”

Alexia raised her eyebrows. Then she stopped and slammed into her brother. They both fell to the ground in a clatter. Alexia was pulling her brother’s head back, and Alfred was pulling his hair to get her off him. They started hitting each other like a couple of stray cats. They were making so much noise that the walls were shaking.

Finally, it was Alexander who separated them, shouting expletives in Scottish Gaelic, and they made peace. They each went to sleep in their rooms to go to their first day of High School tomorrow.

[antaxzantax]

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals / One-shot: Hollywood, Alfred Ashford, part. 2

Two days into high school, the Ashfords visited the temple of American lifestyle: the Hollywood Shopping Center. The good weather, coupled with the heterogeneous crowd of people milling through the wide corridors and getting lost among the numerous stores and restaurants, invigorated him in a way that was almost unknown to him; an excitement only surpassed by the tangible sense of personal security he felt in the complex. With no bodyguards escorting them and his father strolling nonchalantly behind them, Alfred and Alexia entered a bookstore. Alexia lost herself among the shelves overflowing with books, while Alfred selected his first school bag. He opted for an olive green one decorated with an American flag patch. He also chose his first case with a set of pencils, several notebooks and, separately, a box of charcoals for drawing. Alexia selected a philosophy book, plus a cream-colored backpack without patches and the same pencils and notebooks as Alfred. Alexander paid with a platinum card.

Outside the tent, the twins sat at the edge of a fountain ornamented with statues and reliefs of different varieties of fish. The water gushing from its many pipes cascaded into a pool covered with multicolored tesserae. Alexander sat on a nearby bench, drinking a chocolate milkshake. He was dressed in a baggy cream-colored sweatshirt, cream-colored shorts, long white socks and light-colored sneakers. He topped off the outfit with an off-white baseball cap. He loved that country. Alexia was flipping through the new edition of Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra that she had bought. Alfred was testing the charcoals on a sheet he had torn out of one of the notebooks. The hubbub of voices was confused with the sound of water and the sound of footsteps, impacts and shuffling.

No one paid any attention to them. Accustomed to being the center of attention, he found this indifference strange, but comforting. He concentrated on finishing drawing the facade of the clothing store in front of him. Alexander stood up and threw the smoothie carton into the trash.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

The twins nodded.

They were seated in a fine dining Asian restaurant located on the second floor of the mall, next to a window from which they could see the Hollywood sign nestled in the mountains. Alexander asked for the best of the menu to be brought to him, without requesting any specific dish. Alfred and Alexia shared starters and then a main course each. This unusual atmosphere, different from what he had experienced so far in the UK and the Netherlands, made him feel foreign. Alexander, on the other hand, looked as if he had been born there. He had taken off his sweatshirt and turned his visor backwards, and his good mood was infectious, as if he did not care about anything. Alfred suspected that this was the way Alexander had always wanted to live.

The first round of Asian food they were served did not dazzle Alfred, as he discovered that this type of cuisine was not to his palate’s taste. Alexia did not seem too convinced either, although not as disgusted as her brother, and Alexander devoured whatever was put on his plate. In view of Alfred’s obvious lack of desire, Alexander looked at him and asked:

“Don’t you like it?”

His first reaction was restraint, as the governesses who had overseen his upbringing when he was little had taught him, but the family psychologist they were attending stressed the importance of being assertive. In response to the cognitive dissonance, he shrugged.

“You don't like it,” said Alexander as he smiled, glimpsing his son’s authentic opinion.

“Not at all,” Alfred replied, looking at the half-eaten duck with some distaste.

“And you?” he asked Alexia.

“Fine,” she answered tersely.

They did not usually converse over food, a habit they shared with his grandmother, but Alexander seemed intent on reversing the trend. She did not know for sure, but Alexander and Elizabeth argued after what happened in Antarctica. After the argument, Elizabeth said goodbye to them and flew to the Netherlands. From that time to the present, they had only met on special occasions. The reason for the argument must have been something to do with them, and especially with Alexia, because Alexander suddenly became the kind of responsible, caring father they only knew from the movies, and their grandmother distanced herself from them. Elizabeth, though engaged and equally responsible, never treated them in a particularly loving way. Always concerned about her grandchildren’s behavior and outcomes, it seemed that her fondness was contingent on them being as she wished. This especially affected Alexia, who was reluctant to obey. As Alfred readily conformed to his grandmother’s demands, he hardly suffered the wrath of his ascendant in his flesh, but he did suffer her disdain. The thought seemed cruel to him, but he preferred that his grandmother stayed away from them if they could enjoy a lighter life with Alexander in return. If it had not been for the depression that came upon him after Edward died and his subsequent mistakes, perhaps they would have made a happy family. But the past cannot be fixed, Alfred thought, you could only fix what you did in the present. Did his father want to fix the present? He intended to, but he did not know the outcome. Even if the three of them became a happy family, they could not deny or escape their origins. Their family was not like others, and they knew it. They had to be content to weather the storm, in this case, the demons of anguish and depression; but rejoicing that, though unhappy, they had been born rich and aristocratic.

[antaxzantax]

[メイソン家族 series: ハーリ . メイソン]