The Wesker Project [Miro & Monika]

The morning sun cast it's light down onto the large mansion. It was home to the Wesker children. The children got along fairly well and each were very intelligent. They were raised with the teachings of being polite, punctual, and strong. Despite these, most of the children had fallen ill with some unknown virus that plagued only the Wesker children. Unfortunately, the ones who caught the sickness died in matter of days. The ones who were lucky and didn't catch this sickness were allowed to continue on with their life. They attended their schools, greeted their caregivers and siblings with a smile, and took their medicinal shots when needed.

The light from the sun poured itself into the countless bedrooms and the children who overslept were awoken by the bright light that found its way onto their closed eyelids. In one bedroom, however, a young man sat at his desk. The scratching of a pencil could be heard throughout the room and it would cease for a few seconds before starting up again. Albert always liked to wake up early. He simply did not like to sleep. He felt it was something that was a waste of his precious time and it got in the way of his studies for school. Despite his young age, the male was already taking college courses. The old man who took him in, along with his fellow siblings, often praised him for his intelligence and he paid for Albert to get into a private university.

Of course, the lad wasn't the only one to get into a college course. Three others had done so, but none had been as young as he was. The blonde let out a short sigh as he leaned back in his wooden chair. He put his pencil down and lifted his hands up above his head to stretch. A few bones popped as he did this and he placed his hands back down onto his desk. He rolled his shoulders and head before he closed his two notebooks and three textbooks. Albert honestly thought his homework was fairly easy and he had finished it in less than two hours. Standing from his desk, he pushed the chair in once he did so, and he walked to his wardrobe. Pulling the doors open, his hand gripped a white, button-up shirt and black pants. He tugged off his pajamas and changed into his picked attire. Once he finished buttoning up his shirt, Albert took the black, leather belt and quickly fastened it around the waist of his pants. He then slipped his black socks on as well as his black shoes. Blinking as he stood from his bed, he was forced to lift a hand up to block the blinding sunlight from his eyes. Growling under his breath, he took quickened steps to the window and promptly released blinds from their shackled place above the window.

Albert disliked the sunlight quite a bit and he never understood why his babysitter put the blinds back up. If he could, he would just nail the damned things against the wall and that would be the end of that. Inhaling through his nose, he turned and walked into his small bathroom. He quickly brushed his teeth and combed out his hair. He made an annoyed expression as he glared at his golden locks. The bangs always got in the way of his eyes amd if he could just cut them it would make his life so much easier. Alas, he wouldn't do so because Spencer had complimented him on his hair and how it always looked so clean. Albert had to impress his superior as much as he could in order to stay on his good side.

Blinking again, he gave himself one last look, straightened out a few wrinkles on his shirt, which was tucked into his pants, and he walked out of the room. Closing the door behind him, Albert headed down the long hallway. His room was somewhere on the third floor and he had to walk down the two flights of stairs to reach the large dining room. Upon entering said room, the heels of his shoes clacked quietly against the white tiled flooring and he sat in his usual spot at the table. There was a large fireplace at the opposite end of the room and to its left was the door that led to the kitchen. The walls were made of a dark wood, as was the ceiling, and hanging from the ceiling was a large, beautiful chandelier. The crystals seemed to dance as the sunlight hit them and the mixture of the two cast rainbow colored shapes across the room above him. The room above was only a simple pathway that was in a circle, the ramp implanted kept people from falling off and onto the table or floor below. There were three exits scattered across the walkway; the double doors led to the upstairs area of the main hall, the second door led to another hallway to the Weskers' bedrooms, and the last one led to the outside balcony.

Above the walkway that was above the fireplace was a large, stained glass window. The multicolored window formed the image of a woman in a pale yellow dress holding a heart, which had a knife striking through its middle. Her eyes were closed and her strawberry hair was long and it cascaded down her back. Her legs were pulled up in an elegant way, one tucked underneath her bum and she had no shoes on. She sat on a rock and the scenery behind her was a mixture if greens and blues, making Albert believe that she was outside. However, the more he inspected it, the mire it appeared that she was in a room within a tower. The woman seemed to be carressing the heart because she held in a cradling sort of way, close to one of her cheeks. His blue orbs moved away from the stained glass window to focus on the table he sat at. The table was long, rectangular and had a white sheet covering it. There were candles spaced evenly down the table, as well as plates, napkins, and eating utensils.

Albert sat there, waiting patiently. After a few moments, he took out his small journal from its position tucked away within one of his pockets. He had plucked it from his desk and carefully slid it down inti his pocket right before he left, as well as placing a black ink pen within his shirt's chest pocket. As he waited for breakfast to be served, he began to jot down his thoughts. His writing was just as elegant as Spencer's was and Albert knew this because he had seen the old man write things down in front of him countless times. Albert began to notice certain things when he was around Spencer and he felt something the same as...uneasiness around him. The way the old man looked at him with such a deranged....

Should he put it as...

Passion?

Yes. He wrote down the word passion. As well as a glint of power hunger within his narrowed eyes.

As he wrote, he heard the door to the kitchen open and a plate of food was set down in front of him. He didn't look up and ignored the two women as they walked back in the kitchen to grab him an empty glass.

"Sir Albert, what would you like to drink with your meal?" The young woman with brunette hair tied in a bun asked him this with a pleasant tone of voice.

He promptly closed the book and it took him a moment to meet her gaze. Replying with a forced smile, he said in a low tone, "Ah... May I have... orange juice, please?"

The woman nodded and poured the orange liquid within his empty glass and told him to call for her should he need anything else. He only nodded before he tucked his book away and looked at his meal. Albert honestly hated confrontation and didn't like talking to others. He was just... uncomfortable around them. Tucking his napkin over his lap, he began to eat breakfast without the other twelve Wesker children. He always made it top priority to get there and eat before the others came because he hated the loud noises they produced and the talking about him behind his back.

Claire woke up, completely disoriented and groggy. She was trying to get her bearings and figure out what just happened. As the fog cleared, and she stared up at the ceiling, things started to come back to her, tears coming to her eyes. Her parents hadn't even been dead for a day before people grabbed her and tried to get her into their van. She knew about this sort of thing, her parents and brother always warned her about people who liked to kidnap kids. So she fought then as best as she could, kicking and screaming, and even biting one of them hard enough to draw blood.

The last thing she remembered was a needle sticking into her and she got sleepy and passed out. Now she woke up in this strange room, which looked like a bedroom. glancing down at herself, she found herself under the covers of the bed. She got out of bed, seeing that she wasn't even wearing her shirt and jeans, but a night gown. What kind of kidnappers were these people?

She looked down to the bend of her arm, finding a cotton ball taped to her arm with medical tape. she took it off, looking at the little bit of blood on the cotton. She looked for her clothes, opening the closet to find nothing but plain dresses. She couldn't help but scowl slightly. She didn't like dresses very much. You were always expected to not get dirty while wearing them, and she wasn't like that. Her own clothes were nowhere in sight, except.. she found a waste bin with a plastic bag. She grabbed it and pulled it out, finding her clothes. She changed into them quickly. They were a pair of jeans and a tank top with glittery angel wings on the back. She got her boots on and looked around the room before going to the door, surprisingly finding it unlocked. She needed to get out of this place, whatever it was, and started to sneak down the hall and keep out of sight.

Her sneaking led her to a big room with a big table... and an older boy sitting at it and eating.

Albert chewed on his scrambled eggs thoughtfully, thinking of what he would do for the rest of his Saturday. His eyes flicked towards the giant clock settled against the wall. It was still early in the morning; seven fifteen. He swallowed his mouthful and picked up a piece of his toast. He spread some butter over the crusty bread and watched uninterested as it melted. He blinked and lifted the edge of the toast to his lips. However, Albert ceased his actions when he heard the door slowly slide open and he mentally groaned. The only reason the door would open was because the other Wesker children were awake and coming to the dining hall for breakfast.

When he looked towards the door, Albert did a double take when he noticed a girl had entered the room. He closed his mouth and his blonde brows furrowed together in a look of confusion. His blue orbs glanced up and down, her attire was vastly different from anything he had seen within the mansion. His gaze showed a hint of distaste at her choice of clothing, but she also piqued his interest. When he thought he had been caught staring, knowing it was rude, Albert quickly looked away and began eating his toast with haste.

I had heard rumors of another child being brought to our establishment and I suppose that they are true. Where on earth did she get those clothes? The head master would not approve of that type of attire... She also has red hair... It-- She isn't like the rest of us.

Claire watched him a moment, curious. He seemed to be just eating breakfast.. alone. No restraints or anyone watching him. She didn't understand at all. This wasn't anything like the stuff her family told her. He didn't look mistreated either. She started towards him, still keeping low and sneaking around, not really thinking that there was most likely cameras everywhere and it didn't matter. "Hey..." She whispered when she got close to him. "Were you kidnapped too? Are you alright?" she asked, though it was a little obvious he was alright.

He promptly ignored the newcomer, even when he heard her feet shuffle towards him. He stuffed his mouth with the rest of the toast by taking three, large bites. His eyes glanced towards the door to the kitchen, mentally wishing-- begging, that one of the maids would come back. Come to his rescue from this strange, little girl. Swallowing the mouthful, he flinched a little as the girl's whispered tone filled his right ear. His brows furrowed further as he turned his head to look at her and a slight scowl played at the end of his lips.

What on earth was she...?

Inhaling deeply through his nose, he replied with a hesitant tone, "...No, I was not kidnapped. I live here, as do many other rescued children." He blinked at her and continued, "I do not understand where your concerns come form, but as you can see, I am perfectly fine."

Albert was silent for a moment as he muttered, "The maids will bring you something for breakfast in a few moments. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to return to my studying..."

With that, he wiped the crumbs from around his mouth and stood from his seat. What he had really meant was for her to leave him alone, but he was too polite to tell her that. The clock's ticking echoed within the relatively silent room and he began to move towards the exit, deciding it may not be in his best interest to associate himself with someone like her.

Claire stared at him in surprise, standing up fully. "You... weren't...?" she watched him. "...Well... I was... ... after I found out my parents died... these people just grabbed me and stuck me in a van... against my will... and I woke up here.. .. that's why I was concerned..." she looked away a little. "...not like anyone would care... .. well... I'm glad you're happy here... guess I'm getting out of this place on my own...." she turned and started the other way, to find a window or something she could get out of.

She didn't know what was going on, but she wasn't staying. She was going to take him with her, if he was kidnapped too, but he would only cause problems if she tried to get him to follow her. Nothing made sense. She was taken here against her will, but it sounded like an Orphanage almost. He mentioned him and others were rescued...

At her response, Albert stopped short in his tracks. He turned a bit towards the newcomer and confusion was written all over his face. His head tilted to the side as he asked with slightly narrowed eyes," ...What do you mean you were kidnapped?"

He then turned to face her fully, even took a few steps closer to inspect her appearance even more. Well, he supposed she did look rather odd and why Spencer would have anyone kidnap her, if what she said was the truth, he wouldn't have her harmed unless she did something stupid. When she spoke about escaping by herself, he knew full well what happened to the others who ran away and if he didn't at least persuade her to not do so would be... regrettable for him. He would feel guilty knowing that she had gotten into trouble, but Albert just had a feeling that she would get into trouble anyway.

The fifteen year old let out a sigh and forced himself not to roll his eyes as he responded, "I wouldn't try anything of the sort. The children who tried running away previously ended up in a large amount of trouble. Most get locked into their rooms for days and trust me, I would not want to press Spencer's patience. ...He's the one who takes care of us and helps us get better from the sickness that has been going around. You'll get your injection soon enough if you haven't already."

"Also, I am sure that he took you in for a good reason and by what you have told me, it is possible that he felt...sorry for you due to your parents' deaths." He cleared his throat as he quickly added, "I am deeply sorry for your loss. Anyway, you wouldn't be the first to have been brought in after a parent's death. There are a few others who have gone through the same type of trauma."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but he quickly shut it. Why on earth was he still talking to her?

She turned and looked at him. She shook her head a little. "They had just... grabbed me when I was waiting for my brother... and pulled me into a van. Didn't say anything to me... then they knocked me out when I wouldn't stop trying to get away... ... That's kidnapping..." she was quiet a little. He didn't entirely seem as bad as she originally thought. He seemed to be concerned for her, at least a little bit. Maybe the people and this... Spencer guy... thought they were helping her and just went about it the wrong way. Either way, she had a brother to get back too and It seemed she was going to have to be more careful about sneaking out.

"I'm Claire... Claire Redfield..." she introduced herself. "...I'm sorry for disturbing you... ... I really don't know what's going on... I only just woke up after all that.. and... no one's said anything to me... I'm just... really confused... but.. since you've been here awhile... ... I'll... trust you.." she had to, at the very least. If he and these others were ok... she might not be in any danger.

The older male took in the information she gave him and thought for a few moments. When she introduced herself to him as Claire Redfield, he pursed his lips a moment before he finally stretched out his hand for her to take.

"My name is... Albert Wesker." He glanced to the side as he shook her hand with a surprisingly firm grip. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Redfield."

Quickly pulling his hand back to settle at his side, he said, "...If you want, I can show you around the mansion... It is very large and since you'll most likely be staying here for a while-- I think it might help you feel more at ease with your surroundings. I can speak with Spencer about possibly you going back home, or maybe he would consider bringing your brother here to stay as well... Though, I will admit, that Spencer usually adopts children with high intelligence, but for your brother, he might make an exception."

He blinked as he averted his eyes, obviously uncomfortable. He felt a little on edge, even moreso when he saw what time it was. Undoubtedly the other Weskers would be coming into the dining hall any moment and Albert did not want to be around when they arrived. He really hated their loud, arrogant voices and honestly did not feel like dealing with Samson at the moment. It was too early for him to be bothered by that egotistic brute.

The door to the room they stood within opened for a third time that lovely morning and in poured a group of five people. They all had blonde hair, each in a different style and each had a rather stylish, sophisticated outfit on. There were two girls and three boys.

The first girl's name was Anna. She had short, straight hair that ended at her chin. She wore a white, long-sleeved dress, which ended right above her knees, a pair of thin, white tights and it was finished with a pair of black heels. She had a superiority complex and always thought she could do much, much better than Albert, or anyone for that matter, at almost everything. Her favorite activity was playing tennis. Anna was a year older than Albert.

The other female was Alex. Unlike the other group of Weskers, she was always relatively calm and mature for her age. Alex had long, curled blonde and wore a stylish, white suit with white heels. Albert thought she looked ratger good in a suit rather than a dress. Although, he wouldn't complain if he did see his younger sibling in a dress... She was not too keen on causing havoc and, just like Albert, she was the top of her class in studies. Although she was still in high school, the older me was convinced that she could be taking the same type of classes as he was. Albert personally took a liking to Alex due to her being just as smart as he was, as well as them getting along most of the time. They had the same interests and Alex would often meet him in the study to read a book or two with him. They enjoyed each other's company.

The tallest male with dark, golden hair was wearing a white, buttoned up shirt, black pants, and black shoes. His hair was a bit long and it was pulled into a low pony tail. He had rather thick eyebrows and narrowed, dark blue orbs. His thin lips were pulled up into a wide smile as he laughed at something one of the girls said. He had a rather large build, muscles upon muscles and a very wide jaw line. Samson was two years older than Albert.

Johnathan Wesker was the second tallest, only being about an inch shorter than both Albert and Samson. He had short, messy blonde hair and there were dark circles under his eyes. His attire was very messy and it seemed like he hadn't gotten sleep in weeks. Of course he hadn't. He had been too busy coughing and Albert was sure he had the sickness even after he had his injections on time.

The final person of the group was known as Hiro. Out of all the Weskers, he had black hair and was very short in stature. He always liked to be clean and loved giving Johnathan a hard time about his lack of sleep.

Claire shook Albert's hand and listened to him, getting a bit confused when he talked about that Spencer guy usually only adopting smart kids. She was sure them picking her up was a mistake then. Even though she always got good grades, she wasn't one of 'the smart kids' in school.

She was about to say something, but the doors opened, and the sight creeped her out. They nearly all looked alike, except the one with the black hair, and the one who looked like he slept in his clothes.

And Albert looked like he did not want to deal with them at all, so decided to take him up on his offer so he'd have an excuse to get away. "The tour sounds nice, thanks. I really don't want to get lost.." she looked to him.

Albert mentally cursed when Samson amd the others took notice of him standing there. They, aside from Alex, didn't even seem to notice the new girl standing there. Samson and the other two took a few steps towards Albert and he began to speak, "Good morning, Albert. How is Spencer's little guinea pig doing today?"

Albert opened his mouth to speak, but Samson cut him off, "Did you wake up early like you have been taught to? You wouldn't dare sleep in, even while the old man is gone on a business trip. No. You wouldn't want to disappoint dear old Spencer, would you?"

Samson forced out the last, two words coldly as he lifted both his hands up. Albert knew what was coming and didn't even try to move out of the way even as he was being harshfully shoved to the tiled floor. The boys and Anna all laughed and Alex frowned deeply in disapproval. The youngest Wesker attempted to walk to Albert, to help him up, but Hiro stopped her, saying, "Where do you think you're going, Alex? Leave the little guinea pig on the floor. He doesn't deserve anyone's help! Go get your breakfast or something."

Albert only grunted in pain as his ass hit the floor and he kept his blue orbs focused on the tile he was close to. His cheeks were flushed a little from embarrassment and anger. The fifteen year old wouldn't dare try to fight back Sampson. He had tried to when they were younger, but it did him no good and Spencer only blamed Albert for their arguments and fights. Samson and quite a few of the other Wesker children were jealous of his closeness to Spencer and overachievement of everything he did.

The redhaired girl was pissed as she watched the way Albert was treated. No wonder he seemed to not like her when they first interacted. The kids he lived with were terrible. "Just because you're inadequate doesn't give you the right to push people around. It's not going to make up for what you're lacking," the smaller girl shot back as she stepped between the fallen boy and the one who pushed him, staring up at the bully with a defiant glare. She was ready to react if the bigger boy tried anything.

Samson blinked down at the redhead in surprise. He wasn't really used to others standing against him and actually talking back to him. This little girl had enough gall to even insult him. Suddenly regaining his composure, he asked in an arrogant tone as he looked at Albert, "Who is this, Albert?"

The blonde had stood up from his spot on a floor while the older Wesker addressed him and he responded with a bit of hesitation, "She is new here. She was just brought in and--"

The older male and Anna both looked at Claire with a disgusted, scrutinizing gaze. Anna spoke up first, "Dear, your outfit is very unbecoming and is very... improper. I believe Spencer made a mistake."

She blinked and tilted her chin upwards whilst she brushed her short hair from her face, "It wouldn't be the first time he's done so."

Albert looked away because he knew she was referring to him being a mistake. They always did tell him that Spencer was just setting him up for failure and that he honestly wasn't good at anything. As she continued to berate him, the fifteen year old appeared to shrink in on himself and he kept silent. Albert just wished he could burry himself in a hole and never come out.

Samson spoke up again, this time to the new girl, "I'm not sure where you get the idea that Albert is better than me. I don't have any sort of short comings-- Dr. Marcus has praised me plenty of times and not even Albert has seen or spoken to him."

That was true and Dr. Marcus was the first head of the Umbrella Corporation. Spencer came second and finally Dr. Wesker came third. All the children had met Dr. Wesker and Albert was sure that Claire would be doing so the next day. She still needed her injection because of the unknown disease that had spread within the area of the mansion. Albert certainly didn't want this brave, albeit, possibly stupid girl to catch the illness. His eyes looked over at her and he was indeed shocked to see that someone had stood up to his siblings. Nobody had done that before. However, Albert's hopeful thoughts were soon extinguished when he decided that ultimately she would either turn out the same as the others, or completely forget him should Dr. Wesker and Spencer release her to her home.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Samson speak again, "You're lucky that I still haven't lost my patience. You had better watch yourself, little girl."

At the end of his threat, the maids hurriedly walked into the dining room and prepared the other Weskers' meals. One took Albert's empty plate and the cup full of orange juice back into the kitchen to be cleaned. Albert made a mental note to request another glass of orange juice to be brought to his room later.

Inhaling deeply, Albert straightened his back and spoke up, "...If you will excuse us, Miss Redfield and I have to leave. Enjoy your meal."

Samson only scoffed in response and they all took their seats at the table. At the same time, Albert moved forward and opened the door for the twelve year old redhead. He gestured his hand from her to the other room, stating, "After you."

Claire crossed her arms, staring at Samson and Anna, her gaze falling on Anna at her comments towards herself and Albert. "Maybe if I cared for your petty, elitist opinions, I'd be a little hurt. But I really don't care what you think of me, your opinions are worthless and your outfit makes you look like you're going to a funeral. Actually, that might be appropriate attire because you're totally dead inside..." she responded to the girl, then looked towards Samson, tilting her head slightly. "Aw, I'm so scared. Mr Big Man has to pick on people to make himself feel tougher," she answered him, but watched them head to the table, looking to Albert, nodding a little and heading through the door, "Thank you."

She looked around the next room a little, turning to him and crossing her arms again, watching him close the door behind him. "What the heck is their problem, beyond being jerks."

He followed the girl inside and as he shut the door behind him, Albert cleared his throat. "...According to Spencer, my siblings are...jealous of me. I suppose I... don't really agree with them. I am not an expert at the things I do; I only do things to the best of my ability. If I don't know something, then I find the means to learn about it as much as I can."

He ran his hands over his shirt and the top of his pants in an attempt to smooth out the few wrinkles that had appeared after he had fallen. It was in vein and he forwned a little in annoyance. Blinking, he walked past her and continued down the hallway. "Anyway, I will show you around now. Keep close to me. We have to avoid the rooms that are contaminated since you have not gotten a vaccine yet."

The floor had transitioned back to wood and the walls were panted a dark, forest green. The top and bottom lining of the walls was a long, elegantly carved wood that had been polished with a stain that made it's coloring much darker. There were several painted portraits of an older man with white, short hair atop his head, his eyes appeared to sink into his sockets, and he had a few hints of wrinkles all about his face. He was frowning and wearing an expensive dark grey suit. Albert stopped to stand beside the first, large portrait closest to them, "This is Dr. Marcus. He is basically the head of the Umbrella Corperation and is very improtant to the company."

He paused a moment before he turned to Claire, "Ah... Umbrella is a new pharmacy company. It... basically creates medication and other related products for people who need it. The products have already begun to sell and it is one of the reason this mansion has been built."

He continued his lecture as he started walking further down the hallway and it turned to the right, "Spencer is the one who had this place built. He saved me and the other children from homes and had Dr. Wesker take us in as his own. Dr. Wesker is the reason we have a place to stay as well as a good education."

He opened another door when he stopped talking and walked inside. It was the main hall, where a long, red carpet went from the exit door straight across the floor, and up the stairs. There were two sets of full bodied armour on display on either side of where the front doors were, each held a long, silver spear. Hanging from the ceiling was a beautiful chandelier and there were candles on either side of the bottom of the flight of stairs. On the wall at the first flight of stairs was a very large portrait of an old man. He had very little hair, aside for the lanky, long locks that made half a circle around the back of his head and behind his ears. His eyes definitely sunk into their sockets and he had many wrinkles on his face. His duck-like lips were formed into a deep frown and he wore a dark red outfit. On either side of the portrait were two, small sets of stairs, which led up to the balcony-like structure above them. Across the room from where the two had entered was a metallic door, which had a huge crest engraved into it.

Albert knew that behind the staircase was an elevator that he was not allowed to enter. The upstairs balcony led to two separate rooms. The door right above them led into the upper area of the dining room while the one across from them led into the art gallery. The male also thought about showing her the secret passageway, but decided against it since he did not know her too well
He turned to her and spoke up again, "This is the main hall. That is the front door and I know that you want to leave, but I am afraid that there is a gate all around the property. The only way to leave the property is to get the main gate's keys and only Spencer and Dr. Wesker have them. So, you might be stuck here until they come back from their business trips."

When he slightly frowned apologetically towards her, he asked with a small sigh, "Where would you like to go first, Miss Redfield?"

Claire listened to Albert as she followed him. Vaccine? Contaminated? She heard those words before, but wasn't entirely familiar with them. She knew vaccines protected people from getting sick from certain things. Her attention was drawn to the scenery of everything around them, still listening to what he was saying, even though it didn't seem like she was. She had never seen a place like this before. She couldn't help but wish her brother was there to see it too. The thought of him hurt. They were all each other had left... and now... they didn't even have that. She didn't even get the chance to properly come to terms with her parents being gone.

She bit back tears, knowing now wasn't the time to start crying. She'd have to wait until she got back to her room to start crying. She stopped and looked up at the picture of Marcus, blinking back the tears that had tried to well up. She vaguely remembered her parents saying something about that company, but medicine wasn't really her thing, so she hadn't been interested.

She took in all the information that Albert gave her, keeping close to him and looking around. It all sounded too good to be true, and her father always said that it meant it usually was. And how she was brought here still stuck in her mind and kept her from being able to just accept being there. He caught her attention, though, when he mentioned the gate. A person didn't need keys to climb. She was pretty good at that. She would have to try it that night.

Her eyes lifted up towards the chandelier, then towards the door with the engraving. She then looked back to Albert, smiling lightly. "Please, just call me Claire.. and.. I don't mind where we go. I'm enjoying the tour."

The tall male had caught on with her emotional state. The signs were relatively easy for him to catch and he was not sure how to deal with the issue. Emotions were a troublesome subject for Albert and he had always been taught to not cry, get angry, or anything of the sort. He always had to keep a cool appearance and push those emotions aside. ...At least until he got to his room, anyway. That was the only time he would allow himself to cry amd his caregiver, Natalia, would always be there to comfort him, despite being told she was to do nothing of the sort. Now fifteen, the blonde had learned to control what his expressions looked like...mostly. He still had trouble when dealing with the other Weskers around him.

Albert glanced towards the armour stands and then returned his attention back to Claire when she spoke up. Something pulled at his heart strings seeing the evidence of tears that had been forced not to fall and the beginnings of her face turning red. He felt somewhat bad for her considering her situation. Seeing her still smile up at him like nothing was wrong made his blonde brows rise a tad in surprise. This little twelve year old could still see the light in any situation. Albert felt somewhat ashamed in himself because he was older and could not do such a thing.

"Er... I-I, well..." He pressed his lips together as he tried to force out what he wanted to say. "I am just more comfortable saying last names...but I will try to call you by your first name..." He muttered under his breath with uneasiness, "Sometimes."

Clearing his throat again, he began walking across the main hall and foots steps echoed in the large room. "Let us start with the art gallery," he said as he came to a stop by the metallic door. "Don't worry. There aren't anymore portraits of the men of Umbrella. It's actual artwork."

Claire watched him a little. She wondered why he was more comfortable just by using last names. It could be because last names was more formal, rather than friendly. She decided to just make it easier on him, smiling lightly. "It's alright... just call me by whatever you're more comfortable with..." She followed him to the door, looking up at it, then to him. "Well, it's good to have a variety of things to look at." She was quiet a little. "So.. do you do anything for fun?"

Albert only nodded, stating a low, "Indeed," in response as he opened the door for her. As he walked inside, he scoffed a little at her silly question, "I'm not entirely sure of the others, but I don't have fun. I do not have time to lounge and laze about due to my studies and classes."

Once inside the gallery, he shut the door behind them. He then turned away from the door and back towards the room. Like the dining room and main hall, the flooring was tiled, however the walls were painted a very dark grey in color. In the very middle of the room was a tall, stone statue of a man holding a pot on his shoulder. He was very muscular and his hair was carved with short curls. He wore nothing but a large sheet wrapped around his waist and the sheet formed into a square on the bottom. There was a golden plaque on the front of the square, which had a strange writing on it. Albert still had difficulty trying to solve it's riddle and had given up doing so years ago. To their right and left were various paintings and varied sized stone or marble statues. He gazed around the room with a bored look, uninterested in seeing the artworks that he'd lived with his entire life. That didn't mean that Claire couldn't enjoy seeing them, however.

"When I reached around your age, I wasn't allowed to play so much. Spencer and Dr. Wesker had me start my classes and training at that time."

He looked down at her and blinked as he glanced to an oil painting they depicted someone hanging themselves from a crooked tree. "Also... Thank you for standing up for me, Miss Redfield. ...Nobody has done that for me before. Although I appreciate the gesture, your fiery spirit could get you into trouble. Do be careful around Samson as he may not be as lenient next time."

Claire followed him inside, listening to his response. He didn't have fun? That sounded boring. Especially if he didn't have any fun with the stuff he had to do. She looked around the room, at the statues and paintings. She wandered a little bit away from him, still listening but taking a better look at thing. She stopped in front of the painting that he had glanced at, finding it a bit... morbid. She supposed that it was just the owner's taste in paintings, but still.. She glanced towards him when he started talking again. "As long as you have fun with your studies and everything, that's kind of a way of having fun, isn't it? If it isn't boring.. it must be fun, right...?" she smiled lightly, turning back to the painting.

"And you're welcome. ... you didn't deserve to be treated like that. My brother, Chris, always said that the people who feel the need to bully and pick on others... do that because they're insecure of themselves, or threatened by the person. I think they're just trying to get to you, because they know that if you keep doing what you're doing, you'll just be that much better than them. It's a competition for them... They've got to be the best. And instead of trying harder, they just try to bring everyone else around them, down." She crossed her arms, tilting her head a little as she stared at the painting, still trying to figure it out.

"They just think you're trying too hard because you want to be the best. And that's what makes you actually better than them. You don't have to try to do anything special. You just do what you do normally, and it puts you on top. Some people can't stand that. So they do what they can to get to you, so you'll stop trying altogether and give up. Just keep doing what you're doing, and don't let what they say get to you. In the end, it's not their opinion that matters, right? It's ultimately what Mr Spencer and Dr Wesker thinks... right?" She looked to him, smiling lightly. "As long as you've got their approval, then you're doing just fine. No matter what those jerks think." she looked back to the painting that she had been staring at.

"This painting is really morbid," she finally replied.

Albert was silent as he listened to the young woman speak and some emotion, perhaps impression, filled his mind. The redhead was probably stupid being as brave as she was, but bravery was also something that he, himself, lacked. He would never outwardly admit this, but he was always too afraid to stand up for himself because he was afraid he would harm those around him. Granted, Albert would not mind smacking the damned smiles off the faces of his "siblings," but he could never bring himself to say anything or physically stand up to them when they picked on him. He felt insignificant against his older brothers and sisters, but Claire made him realize something he had not before. Maybe she was correct in her assumption that maybe they were the ones jealous of him. He was the youngest of them get Spencer's approval, as well as get into the private school...

The blonde's bright, blue orbs blinked as they focused on her and then followed her gaze to the painting he had been staring at moments prior to her little, encouraging speech.

"...Yes, that painting is rather dark, I suppose. Though that is Spencer's taste. He can be morbid with the research and things he does. None of the others know much about him and I suppose they will never know."

He straightened his posture a bit more, feeling a little prouder than usual thanks to her nice words to him, Albert began to walk down the gallery and stopped by another, single door. As his hand gripped the golden handle, he stopped short in his actions and turned back to face Claire to say a simple, small, "Thank you."

Clearing his throat a little, Albert opened the door for her and quickly added, "It is about time for you to have your medicinal shot... We better get to the medical wing soon, or you may fall ill."

Claire figured as much, since she doubted that the painting came with the house, but to each their own. She personally wouldn't have such a painting in her house. But.. then again... she was stuck living here now, wasn't she...? Her attention was drawn towards him when he thanked her. She smiled gently. Then he mentioned that shot. She had forgotten about it. It sounded really serious, though, from what he said. She then remembered why she was there in the first place. She had been kidnapped.

But was she really? Maybe they had talked to someone... maybe she and her brother had only relative who could only take one of them in... Her mind drifted back to her parents. She couldn't think about them now. Maybe when she was alone in the room she had woken up in, figuring it was her own room. Maybe when she had time to herself, everything would sink in. At the moment, though, she had no real reason to think she was in danger. Talking with Albert made her less suspicious of what was going on. He was perfectly fine, and didn't seem to be.. forced.. to do anything bad. Just studying.

She nodded a little, realizing she had been quiet just a little too long. "Alright.." she moved over to him. She'd go along with things for now.

Nodding to her as she past by him, he shut the door and began to walk down another hallway. Once they entered a larger area of the hallway, there were two sets of stairs; one that went up and one that went down. As they entered, straight to Albert's right was an empty bird cage with two, small paintings of crows on either side of it. He briskly walked past the decorations and began going up the stairs. There was a long, red carpet installed on the stairs as well as on the wooden flooring above.

"If you are wondering, the stairs below us go down to the basement. Usually we are not allowed in there, but I have managed to sneak in a few times. It is very dark, so much so that I wasn't able to see much, but I did find somwtging interesting..." He began, his voice trailed off as his mind clouded with uncertainty.

What if she didn't even care about all of this? Sure, Claire had given him a pep-talk to boost his confidence, but what if she would turn out to be just like the others? Albert's thin lips pressed together in a firm line and his blonde brows crinkled together ever so slightly in suspicion. Though, he remembered that she had stood up for him against Samson, the eldest of the Wesker children. No body else would have dared to that, nor would they care enough about Albert to do so.

Maybe he was being paranoid.

He hesitated a moment before he continued, "...I found a very old elevator. The power was out when I last checked on it, but I do not know where it leads. Perhaps it leads to the other floors above us?"

Or to some hidden rooms that we do not know of below?

He had glanced back at her as he took a sharp right and he stopped in the middle of a wide hallway. There were white drapes thrown over large knight statues, which were spread about the large hallway.

Spencer and his odd tastes.

He titled his head a little as he turned to face her, his bright blue orbs took in her appearance more since she was closer to him. He had not thought to do so before, but now that he did, he noticed just how skinny she was. Her hair was an odd color of red. When the light hit the long locks, it reminded him of a fire. Her eyes were a much darker shade of blue than his own amd were larger than his. She was shorter than he was, also. Him being nearly a few inches taller than her. When his eyes lingered on her form for longer than he meant, he blinked and looked up at her eyes.

"How old are you again?"

Claire followed Albert, looking around at everything as they went. She was going to need to get familiar with the place. She tried to hide the look of surprise when he mentioned he snuck into somewhere he wasn't allowed to go in. From everything she gathered of the older boy, that was completely unlike him. That got her interested. And the fact that there was some sort of secret old elevator? Even more interesting. His abrupt stopping in the middle of the hallway caught her a little off guard and broke her out of her thoughts on that elevator. Her age? Oh, right. "I'm twelve," she replied, straightening herself up a bit. She had already figured he was a few years older than her, and it seemed he was younger than the others, but never really thought about asking him how old he was.

Albert couldn't help the hint of a grin that came to his face when Claire straightened, obviously feeling proud of her age. Upon being asked his own age, he scratched the bottom of his chin and replied as he glanced down at his feet, "I am 15, though I will be turning 16 in less than a month..."

Blinking, he turned back around and only had to take a few steps before he came to a stop at a set of metal doors. Beside the doors was a metal plaque, which read "Medical Room." As he opened the door for her, he looked at her as he asked, "How do you feel about needles? Are you afraid of them? Do they make you uncomfortable?"

Claire followed him. She hadn't realized he was that much older than her. "Oh, really?" She stopped when they got to the room, looking to the plaque, then to him. "I mean, I don't really care for them, but I'm not afraid of them and they don't make me uncomfortable. I'm not a baby." She huffed lightly at the possible implication that she couldn't handle getting a shot. Having grown up with a big brother of her own, she did what she could to keep up with him, and not act too childish, since he had a habit of picking on her. She knew he wasn't trying to be mean or anything, she just wanted to show him she was tougher than she looked.

A blonde brow rose at her oddly defiant attitude and the older teen blinked and ushered her inside. "It seems we have something in common then..." Albert muttered as the girl stated she was not afraid of needles. A look of guilt flashed across his features and he glanced away from her, mumbling, "I wasn't calling you a baby, I just... know some people do not like needles. I didn't mean to offend you... I'm sorry."

Inhaling a deep breath through his nose, the young Wesker pulled the door shut and he gazed about the all too familiar room. It was possibly the third largest room in the entire mansion, complete with white, tiled flooring, metallic walls, and lined with various medical beds to the left. To the right were several metallic chairs, each with straps on the arm rests and foot stools for anyone who started thrashing about. There were also filling cabinets, shelves, and glass wardrobes riddled with medical supplies and medicines, as well as a couple of tables scattered here and there. Albert hesitated a few seconds before he placed his hands on Claire's shoulders. Softly guiding her to the chair in the far, right corner of the room, he had her sit down and quickly removed his palms from her person.

The young man quickly shuffled about the room, gathering a rather large syringe, a small glass container with the liquid medicine, and a few items for prepping the area of skin where the needle would be injected. Albert seemed to be a whole other person as he worked, completely focused with a slightly furrowed brow. His fingers gripped the small, white coth, picked up the bottle of alcohol, and pressed the dry cloth to the rim of the plastic container. The liquid inside sloshed around as he dipped it a tad upside down and then he played it on the small table beside him. Using his left hand, he pulled the metallic stool up underneath him, sat down, and then it lifted to roll up Claire's sleeve.

Once he had access to a spot beneath her shoulder, Albert wiped the area a couple of times and carefully placed the cloth on the table. Then his picked up the syringe and glass bottle with the medicine and he stuck the needle in the top. Blue orbs focused entirely on the orange tinted liquid as it filled the syringe and once it was completely full, he placed the bottle back down and added some pressure to the lever of the syringe. Flicking his middle finger against the side as some medicine spewed out from the needle, his eyes locked onto Claire's face and a worried crease formed on his forehead. A small frown formed and he blinked and turned his entire attention on the area of skin where he'd insert the needle.

"...I'm going to inject you with the needle now," he stated simply and without giving her any other warning, his left hand tightly gripped at her right upper arm and he hurriedly pressed the needle into her skin. It sunk and disappeared beneath the epidermis and he stopped right as it got a bit beneath her muscle, careful not to hit any major nerves. The medicine was then pushed into the area and he pulled the needle out in a matter of seconds. Quickly putting the needle in a red biohazard bin, Albert got a cotton ball and carefully wiped the bead of blood that formed after the needle was removed. Carefully sliding a bandaid on the bleeding area, he slid her sleeve back down and scanned over her face for any signs of discomfort.

"If you begin to notice any signs of sweating, upset stomach, or headache in about an hour, let me know."