The Temple of Artemis(Pre-Event/Intro Thread)

[Albert Wesker]

Okor Paleblood. An odd name, to be sure, but its uniqueness should make it reasonably easy to remember. Filed away, with a horrid, twisted mass of fetid, rotting flesh and twisted parasites wrapped in a hulk of ancient, corroded armor to match with it in lieu of a face. It wouldn't be forgotten, nor would the station of who it belonged to. An impressive title, from whatever world he'd hailed from before the Omniverse, and a more relevant position as, apparently, Colonel's immediate superior. That fact brought just that little trace more of grimness to the face of the virtual soldier.

He let his arm drop back to his side, adopting a neutral posture. "Quality over quantity." He echoed the sentiments of the plague marine, his tone suggesting it was an oft-repeated repetition. "Numbers only matter if you have enough of them to drown your enemy under bodies." The shrug was left unanimated, but clear from his tone. He'd been on the receiving end of that tactic personally, and seen how effective it could be...but how easy it was to tear apart with the right measure of strength to weather it.

The walking epidemic had his attention stolen by another figure among the Primes arriving to the temple, diverting his gaze and lifting an arm to beckon them over.

"Weiss! Over here!"

Translation...."weiss"...."white.

That lended a clue as to who it was that the towering mass of disease and filth was waving over. Young girl, clad in white. She seemed more than a little ill at ease at the sight of Okor. Colonel could hardly blame her. But his attention was stolen by the approach of another Prime, seemingly also part of the Institute. Introductions were made in brief, the greeting of this Victor Wolfe met simply with, "Colonel. Institute Security Branch, Vice-Dean." He wasn't much for small talk, and the lack of pleasantries at the new meeting was quite evident.

It seemed Wolfe and Okor were acquainted with one another. The animosity the plague bearing warrior felt for the comparative youth was clear; almost palpable, at that. He gave voice to his thoughts vigorously, even going so far as to point out that the young girl, Weiss, was a far more capable warrior than the assassin might ever hope to be. Whether that was fact or personal bias remained to be seen, but it was something the digital trooper would keep in mind.

He returned an empty expression as the plague marine surveyed him with his one befouled eye. Only the ever so faintly luminous, unblinking stare made any indication of life, faintly expanding and contracting, shifting like the lenses of a camera to focus in on minute details. Whatever experiences had passed between his Institute associates weren't any immediate concern of his, and he kept what few thoughts he had on that matter to himself. Perhaps wisely so.

His attention wavered from the vicious tirade and ultimatum spouted by the plague marine, of only giving one chance to the assassin, Wolfe, and Colonel diverted his gaze elsewhere, finally taking stock of the others that had arrived. Already their numbers had swelled well beyond what they had been seemingly moments before. So many of them, and so few of these relics the 'hero' needed to be free. And a promise of reward to the one who presented them. How many would let that greed drive them?

He turned back in time to see his superior once more addressing the young woman. For his part, Colonel said nothing. Merely directed his severe countenance to stare at the, as Okor spoke. Once more it seemed to be quite the case of appearances being deceiving. Neither of them looked like they belonged anywhere near a battlefield.

He once again kept that thought to himself, though the arrival and approach of a new Prime obviated the need to do such. The new man voiced an inane question, asking whether the spirit had told the same thing to everyone who arrived here. "In the same way Omni greets everyone when they first arrive here," he responded flatly.