RADICALISATION, leon kennedy [1]

⤿ v. bitter side of sweetness

┌────────────────────────────┐

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒: 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒: 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠

└────────────────────────────┘

Raccoon City Police Department — September 29th, 1998

     The east hall on the first floor is dark and ominously quiet, and Mason feels the hair on the back of his neck stand straight upon its end, unsheathing his machete as his dark eyes try to see in the light offered by their flashlights. There's a burning beneath his skin, almost as ominous as the silence, and he twitches slightly, almost bumping into Leon several times in the span of maybe half a minute. Leon looks at Mason out the corner of his eye curiously, unsure of whether he should broach the subject or not.

     Mason silently answers that question for him, temporarily sheathing his machete to board up more windows — because who knows whether climbing infected are actually a thing? — and then trying the door off to the side. The handle turns and he slips inside, flashlight sweeping the interior as Leon walks in behind him, gun raised and prepared to shoot anything that moves after his hesitation earlier. Mason finds the key card to the weapons locker and hands it over to his partner, knowing that Leon will definitely prefer a bigger gun compared to his handgun.

     Frowning at the broken king statue, Mason reattaches his arm and nestles the red book he found earlier into the crook of its elbow, watching as it hands over the sceptre as a trade for the book. He picks free the red jewel and weighs it in his hand, wondering what such a priceless object would theoretically be worth once they're out of this shithole known as Raccoon City. But, maybe, it has another use in this place, like everything else that they've found thus far.

     "Let's go get you a bigger gun, pretty boy," Mason says, walking out of the room and heading back towards the western side of the precinct, twirling a Chinese ring dagger around his finger. "And I'll silently hope that you're not compensating for something with that big gun."

     Leon rolls his eyes, following after Mason without a word of complaint even though he wants to check on Claire and ensure that she is alright. "Not that it matters, but I'm not compensating."

     "It was a joke, rookie. Don't get your panties in a twist."

     There aren't too many hissing and snarling infected between the eastern wing and the western wing of the first floor, but Mason has pretty decent aim with his knives, dropping the monsters before Leon can shoot. The rookie looks a little disappointed at that, and Mason resigns himself to the fact that Leon may be a little more — or a lot more — trigger happy than he gave the sparkly eyed blond credit for. Of course he picks the one with a penchant for gunfire...