#delipsy

Within moments, Psy was alive, dropping down the inside of the screen into the world of the computer of Shizuo Heiwajima’s. His green gaze analyzed his surroundings quietly, the gentle hum of the computer providing him company. Endless streams of coding went forth from whence he had come, merging with the coding that was all around him. Offscreen, he could see his owner moving away from the computer with a glass of milk and turning on a television.

It was not his place to worry over the troubles and daily life of his owner though, his mission was one of debugging before returning to submission within his folder.

With that in mind, he wandered through the open planes of the desktop, noting the abnormal coloring around the room. Pink. Of all colors, there was an abnormal amount of pink. Pink background, pink coding, pink font; the only other color was the streaks of red that went through now and then in the coding.

“You’re very new around here.”

The scanner turned, looking into the face of another program. Tall, well-dressed, with a stick of data he was appearing to look like he was smoking. “You are the former virus protection program.” It was obvious, from the way he was muscled and by the way his eyes still searched, although not as hard as they would have before the virus came.

“And you must be the new program.”

“Debugging program only, I’m here to correct you and exterminate the virus from this system.”

The program before him grinned, “correct me?” The data from his mouth was tossed aside, vanishing in a whirl of numbers before the man moved in close to stand before him, looking down at him over the rim of his shades. “And how do you propose to do that?”

“With force if necessary. Where is your virus? You have been momentarily freed from their grasp, but I cannot do my job unless I know the virus’s whereabouts.”

“Perhaps I do not wish to be freed from their grasp?”

“Improbable. Now their location. I do not feel the wish to perform a computer scan and-“ Psy froze as he felt an arm wrap around his waist, the former program pulling him a bit closer, playing idly with the button of his pants.

“Have you ever had a virus or any program come to you? Have you ever felt them grip you tight and rock your programming?” He moved in closer, invading the space next to Psy’s hearing ware. “They don’t come the normal way, firmly grasping you by your hands. They do not hand you any notes of information or tell you any codes.”

The man was far too close for his comfort, it was all Psy could do to keep from shaking and short circuiting.

“…I will take it that you don’t know. You are a child, despite what information has been received by you.”

“Allow me to fix your data and remove the virus.”

“Allow me to show you how data corruption works.” An arm moved swiftly, gripping his other arm and spinning the debugger to the ground. Bits of desktop smashed into his face, shattering his scanning ware from in front of his eyes. He looked up at the other, watching as his own pants were striped from him and thrown aside. The former program gripped him tight, removing an encryption code from his waist and throwing his pants aside. A large something throbbed before Psy’s eyes, making him stare in utter shock.

The man moved with a single purpose, directly installing himself inside, until Psy could feel the program all the way to his core centers. The program leaned in, going to his ear and murmuring gently, “Welcome to Psychedelic dreams, my dear cleanse ware.  Feel free to fix my data directly from my server inside of you.” With that, he began to pound, ruthlessly, quickly, without any kind of sign of slowing down. Psy could hardly breathe, the server crashing repeatedly. Flickers of the computer owner’s angry and frustrated face was seen through the monitor. He tried to reach out for his folder, for any kind of override codes that he could get his hands on, but the server made him powerless. Instead his only responses were moans, unresponsive windows appearing where he should have for the owner.

“Hush my cleanse ware, don’t fight it. Web browsers know I tried to fight it. Accept my data,” the voice cooed, softly. Psy cling to the desktop, unable to resist. He felt the data come soon enough, filling him to the brim with Trojans and information. The server soon left.

“My name is Delic, but you may call me your pet project for however long you would like.” The program pulled him close and dragged him towards his folder, awaiting for confirmation that the viruses of the computer were deleted. Psy could only sigh, knowing that when Delic and himself entered the folder, there would be a new strain of data for the viruses in the computer.

He was now one of them.

_-_-_

“DAMMIT!”

“You look frustrated Shizu-chan.” Izaya sat across the room, sitting on the window ledge. It had been too hot this evening for the windows to be shut, so Shizuo had opened them, only now to regret it. The stench of flea was far worse than stuffy air.

“You did this dammit!”

“And just what did I do,” he asked with that trademark grin on face. That frustrating grin made each and every bit of his reasoning scamper from him.

“You infected my computer!”

The informant glanced at the computer, moving forward and motioning for space to work. His grin moved into a small frown. Within seconds, he was plugging in a flashdrive, scanning through a couple screens, eyes flickering back and forth across the information before…

Another grin and, “huh, so it is. V 148 it would appear. Shame you have such a dinosaur of a computer.”