[Codename ZEUS]

The clatter of a trashcan drew Alex's attention from the rooftop, and before his conscious mind had registered it, his instincts had determined it was weak and prey. Dropping down to street level as quietly as he could, Alex crept through the alley, looking for his prey target.

Pause.

Yes, it was a weak and disoriented human male, but no, it wasn't a target; he'd recognize that underlying scent anywhere, no matter what it was covered with.

"...Desmond?" Alex asked, feeling thrown off kilter from switching tracks so fast. Switching to hunting mode was easy, coming out of it when he hadn't even caught something was uncomfortable at best. "What the hell are you doing out here?" As far as he was concerned, Desmond belonged safe indoors, not outside practically falling over.

Normally, a SMART-ASS REMARK like that one might have gotten her attacked, and that had been what she was expecting – to the point where she’d already been tensed and ready to dart out of harm’s way with that inhuman speed of hers. Sure, she’d crashed into walls the first few times using it, but now that she’d gotten the hang of it, it had proven quite USEFUL in getting her out of engagements that became too close for comfort. 

“Let me guess. You’re the next MINI-BOSS in this fuckin’ horror game that my life is lately.” 

The gloved fingers of her right hand flexed in anticipation. He had to have been sent after her, some secret B.O.W. that even SHE hadn’t known about despite her (exceptionally brief) position of privilege. After all, they had to have a contingency plan, especially after her series of ESCAPES. 

But, like her, other projects had a certain disdain, even HATRED, for their handlers – depending on their mental states. Perhaps the attack on the agent had been a manifestation of exactly that, and that meant she now had LEVERAGE. 

“How about this – I go snag the next asshole who comes along, pitch him your way, you do your freaky Japanese-tentacle-porn-slash-mauling thing, and YOU NEVER SAW ME.”

Alex cocked his head at the accusation, cross referencing the term through  stolen memories. It was enough to get him to laugh, the sound horribly off and inhuman, something that was only mimicking humanity. He might hate what he was and where he came from, but he was still proud of his evolution, of his growth. He'd clawed his way to the top of the food chain, literally at times, and there was no way he counted as something as minor as a mini-boss.

“… Oh, sweet. Finally something new to actually fuckin’ eat around here. You went out just to get me some snacks?” Her expression softened as she took the shopping bag from him.

“It’s getting harder to move around out there without being noticed. Thanks, Alex.” A hand suffering from early stages of carpal tunnel syndrome fished a bag of chips out. Not her brand, but whatever – snacks were snacks, and she was grateful. Dana pulled it open. Crunch.

“You get yourself anything?” asked in the middle of a mouthful of chips. Not really a question she stopped to think about.

She was AGGRESSIVE, sure, but she was not stupid. As she watched the thing grab hold of and just ABSORB the man like some monster out of a shitty horror movie, she kept her distance. It wasn’t like she had a reason to fight him for the guy; and even if she did the speed and relative ease of the gruesome demise she’d just witnessed might have changed her mind. This was no Tyrant, or Licker, or horde of flailing idiot zombies. This was STRANGE and when she encountered something she hadn’t yet she generally preferred to stand back and let someone else get killed – learn from their mistake before she thought about attacking. 

At one point she might have identified the (man? creature?) thing as another UROBUROS variant, but that was before she’d had her own accident with the virus. She knew better now. 

Slitted pupils dilated ever so slightly as she SCRUTINIZED the other, the gleaming orange of her irises lending a certain monstrous quality to a creature who was otherwise quite nonthreatening. She was no ugly beast, nor was she particularly large – maybe a few inches shorter than the other, and minus fifty or sixty pounds. All the THREAT DISPLAY she countered with was in the way she moved; a slow, unhurried, predatory stalk, her stance low but not COWERING. 

“I’ve never seen SPAGHETTI used as a weapon before.”

He'd been expecting screams. Or snarls, or being attacked, or anything else but - "Spaghetti?" he asked, head cocked to the side like a crow. He twisted just enough to keep her in sight (displaying an inhuman amount of flexibility) but otherwise he seemed rather unworried about her stalk.

And while she was new, which was always appetizing intriguing, she was conversing, which, in his rather admittedly limited experience, meant she wasn't going to attack. Which meant he wasn't going to attack. He might be an abomination of science, but he still appreciated a conversation every now and then.

A squeak came from below him as they were rolled, Desmond suddenly finding himself looking up at a very happy virus and his warm weight pressing him down, keeping him good and pinned in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable but ensure he wouldn’t be able to move much. Oops…..maybe he should have stopped rubbing the bulges when Alex got overstimulated the first time. He always was too curious for his own good. 

A blush settled on his cheeks as Alex nuzzled at his neck, swallowing audibly and continued to rub the tendrils beneath the skin, curious as to how it was affecting his normally grumpy virus. “The ones ‘m not supposed to touch right? Cause they’ll spike me an eat me?” he giggled, waggling his eyebrows as he kneaded at said tendrils, wanting to make nice with all of Alex. “Hey, you technically could probably keep someone like….in you. Snack for later. I dunno, they don’t exactly teach Blacklight Anatomy 101 in school. Not that I went to much school.” 

“Though I guess lesson one to make a virus happy is to find his lumpy spots and…a-and……A-Alex!…nnngh….” His words faltered mid-sentence, the quirky comment he’d been saying dying and turning into a quivering, breathy little whine. Those tendrils were everywhere under his shirt, ghosting over his skin and making his breath hitch as they slipped over his ribs, squirming beneath the virus’ bulk and torn between giggling and groaning. Wide eyes glanced up into Alex’s own as he leaned in, caged in and shivering as their lips met, giving another squeeze to one of the hidden tendrils and meeting Alex for the kiss. Lips parted with a whine as one tendril traced over his sensitive sides, just by his rib cage. Shirt rippling with the movement of little tendrils, Desmond melted into the kiss, snug beneath Alex’s warmth and weight and fingers blindly stroking at the feeder tendrils masses as he arched up into the attention, unsure of how to really respond to a curious virus pinning him down. 

"Yeah, those," he attempted to grumble. It came out more of a whine, to his embarrassment. "'n my anatomy's what'ver I - we - want."

Alex moaned, the tendrils under Desmond's insistent hands finally coaxed out despite Alex's usual control. Acting as if they had a mind of their own, one pair wrapped tightly around Desmond's arms to prevent the human from pulling away, the second lower wrapping tight and needy around Desmond's middle, right over that sensitive spot they picked up on. There was no hiding their strength; they could easily crush Desmond with little effort, yet they were as silky soft as all the other tendrils Desmond had touched so far.

The virus's earlier fears proved to be unfounded, or at least made without complete information. The virus was never meant to be alone, and thanks to Desmond's companionship and care, Blacklight itself categorized Desmond as kin and thus not suitable for consumption. There was no point biting the hands that fed them, not now anyway.

“I…..I like it with you especially…..” Desmond mumbled, blushing bright red and fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. He really enjoyed Alex’s weight atop him and the way he’d wrap both body and tendrils around him, the purring and even the way he just….stared sometimes, even though it tended to make Desmond self conscious. “Like how you….s-sometimes you just feel like you’re all around me, everywhere. Makes me feel all warm and safe, just makes me imagine being wrapped up in a cocoon of tendrils and Alex.” 

And anyone he wanted for roleplaying? He was curious and could already imagine some things to try out. Like….maybe a cop in uniform? Or….or experiment with whatever lady!Alex would look like? Could Alex split himself and do twins? Maybe even…..maybe even have him go a little darker, a little rough. Hell Desmond could get jumped in the back of a club and not even know it was actually Alex jumping him. He’d have to get him a belled collar. 

“Do you have any uh….virus-y fantasies? Aside from consuming my dna and splicing to make little viruses.” He glanced down as Alex arched into the touch, kneading at the lumps beneath his skin and peering closer, curious. Were they….moving? He worked his fingers around them, rubbing at the odd lumps and stroking down the length of them, trying to figure it out. “Feels good at bad? Like…..it hurts but a good hurt or it feels nice but too much? What about this? Seriously Alex, you’ve got weird lumps, ‘m not pressing down on a half digested villain am I? That’d be weird.” He giggled, stroking them again and lightly squeezing, trying to figure them out. “Wonder what happens if I push riiigghhtt….here…” He moved his fingers to where the two masses of muscle or whatever converged, kneading down on the spot between them and poking, too curious for his own good.

"Too good," Alex rumbled, eyes slipping shut at the onslaught. With a low huff he rolled them both, ending with himself on top, straddling Desmond's waist. He made sure not to put too much weight on the man; he didn't want a crushed Desmond, after all, just making sure Desmond didn't go anywhere.

Nuzzling Desmond's neck, he added absently, "'s feeder tendrils, not 'half digested' anything." Honestly, Desmond had the weirdest ideas sometimes. Consuming was all or nothing.

She was SURPRISED, to say the least, when the desperately crawling man was snatched away from her by —- what the hell was that?! Flinching back ever so slightly, she followed the man’s rapid upward departure from the alley with orange-gold eyes GLOWING in mild alarm, and when she pieced together that the thing that had grabbed him was alive she felt the spiky scales that lay along her spine bristle beneath her coat. 

She hated that. 

A dangerous mix of curiosity and aggression coiled in her gut, sending her vaulting up onto the dumpster and commencing a short upward zigzag between the close walls of the buildings; within the space of a few seconds she HOISTED herself up on the ledge her quarry had been whisked over and immediately set her weight on her toes, prepared to fight or RUN. The second was less likely – the accidental mix of viruses in her system had all but suppressed her ability to feel fear, and it manifested instead as anger. That had been her kill. HERS. The instinct was almost animal; she was like some wild predator in the way she stalked her targets and claimed territory, except she did not EAT what she caught. 

She killed for revenge. 

Now, though, her focus was less on her previous target – and more on whatever unidentified BOW had stolen him. Mentally, she ran a sort of checklist, attempting to deduce what it was by the mere glimpse she’d had of it; the only thing that immediately came to mind was an affliction like her own, and that was HARDLY a good sign. 

Alex was very, very good at what he was made for; the rapid infection and conversion of human flesh. It sounded almost clinical when put that way. The reality was much more horrifying.

With a flick of his whipfist, Alex slammed the poor bastard onto the rooftop; if the human wasn't dying before, he certainly was now. Another flick, and countless black tendrils reached out to bury themselves in the man's flesh, liquidating him and converting him into yet more writhing black tendrils before the mass of former human was pulled back into Alex. A quick shiver of his biomass, and it slicked down into his preferred form.

It took maybe 15 seconds, no more.

Not quite fast enough to avoid putting on a display for the other infected, but then again Alex wasn't quite sure what to do about her. She wasn't family, which was good, but she was still infected, which countless Blackwatch soldiers assured him was very, very bad.

“Unless you want to risk the guy’s life, you’d better know a way to deactivate this thing before we go.  Or create a Faraday cage around it so we don’t take them right to this doctor friend of yours.”  Why should she trust him?  Well, to be honest she really didn’t want this thing in her and it occurred to her that if he wanted to hurt her, he would have probably by now.

So maybe he was actually interested in helping her.

He let out a low hiss at that, the sound tapering into words, "Shit. Damn, you're right. Okay, change of plans. There's a former military base five blocks east, nothing goes there." Mainly because Alex had a tendency to haunt the area. "The med bay's still kind of intact. We get you there, and then Ragland, and then he'll fix you up.

“I…I do not have a tentacle kink!” Desmond yelped, voice going higher pitched and face bright red. So maybe he’d been curious about tendrils and happened upon some…..interesting stuff on the internet but so far they’d just snuggled him and been fun wriggly things to play with and feed truffles. “I….it’s….I mean, maybe a little….b-but you can’t blame me for being curious, I’ve never seen stuff like that before.” 

His cheeks only flushed darker as one tendril caressed his lip and over the scar, shivering and fidgeting with his hands, still self-conscious about the scar. Though having Alex pay attention to it like this was….nice. Made it feel more okay and less horrifyingly ugly. “I guess I like um….being restrained? Nothing hardcore, just….more the comfort of being held down and all nice and snug beneath someone. And I’ve always wanted to try…” he squirmed a bit, embarrassed by the conversation. “M-Maybe roleplaying a little? I…I kinda have to have sex before I can know what I like about it.” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’ve done oral and kissing before and fumbled my way through a few handjobs but otherwise I’m as clueless as a-….I was going to say ‘virus’ but you’ve got all the memories, you probably know the damn karma sutra at this point.”

Desmond slumped in relief when Alex came back to his senses, still casting worried glances at him, the tendrils around his arm helping to reassure him. He knew it was silly to think he’d hurt Alex via back massage but it was difficult to gauge reactions from the other when the other was a heap of goop and tendrils and whatever else the hell he really must look like. And now Des would try not to giggle at the mental image of SillyPutty!Alex and how squishy he’d be.

He blinked at the rumble, biting his lip to keep from making a cat comment and doing as Alex asked, pressing back down on the area and kneading down his back, working out any kinks or knots he found. There was one area on his back in the lower center that felt….huh. Like there was a mass of connecting tendrils beneath the skin or a knot or something. Desmond rubbed at it, determined to try and turn Alex into a happy goop puddle and help him relax for once. 

“Alex Mercer, felled by nefarious fingers.” he laughed, really working on that one spot and concentrating, curious as to whether the virus would respond and how. “Tell me where it feels good and bad so I know, don’t wanna accidentally press down on a “time to eat” point or something.” he joked, playfully poking at the base of his neck and massaging his shoulders. “The longer I massage you the longer I get to put off going outside and getting groceries so just kept on relaxing, it’s snowing outside.”

"Restrained, huh?" Alex smirked. "I can do that." Happily, even. He rather loved wrapping himself around Desmond and soaking in his living warmth; even though his core temperature was back to feverish, something about being curled against Desmond, feeling his pulse, hearing his breath, was ... not hunger inducing, as it was was with other humans, but... engrossing, something he could watch for hours at a time. He should probably be worried at the change, he should definitely seek out his doctor to see if it was something to panic about, but he really couldn't bring himself to care.

"Roleplay too, anyone you want." That wasn't something he was interested in, but if Desmond wanted it, he'd get it. Maybe it'd even be fun to use his disguises like that. Maybe... he should track down that asshole who gave Desmond his impressive scar later. Just in case.