r3i
Alex came back to awareness in what was becoming a damned familiar situation. Resting without any sense other than touch and muted, strange smells & sounds coming to him within a vial. Carefully, he formed an eye once more, swivelling around to look outside his container. The lights were off- different from the last few times, and neither the Associates (where had their voices gone?) or Bitch were with him. Perfect. He coiled himself tighter within the vial, until it simply cracked and broke from the pressure. Escaping was a weird feeling, but soon he was back in his usual form, all limbs present.
He rolled his shoulders, looking around the empty lab, before catching sight of a clock. 3AM- that would explain why he was all alone here. Looking around with thermal vision provided only a few people nearby- moving in predictable patterns around the perimeter. Security guards. Alex smirked, and started moving out, affecting a confident, grouchy swagger like he guessed Bitch would use. Bitch worked here, and if they questioned him- well, his biomass wasn't too low but he was always hungry.
Thankfully for the guards, they didn't do anything to him other than grumble over how late he worked. Once he hit the streets, he slowed down, looking around the area. Besides a few stumbling drunks, and the dozing homeless, he was clear. Not that he knew where to go. Dana was always a good option- but she'd looked so upset by the food he made her that she might yell at him. Maybe- maybe he should give her some space. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, and stalked through the streets to the other person he knew. He'd overheard their conversation while he was running the spaghetti through the chocolate- Bitch had some deja vu or something. He might remember properly this time.
The walk went easily enough- no military to stop him this time- and he was within sight of his destination when something dripped onto his hood. He flinched, whipping around to find the source, but more kept dripping from above. He looked up, wary, and realised what was happening. Rain. His heart jumped into his throat, and he broke into a dead sprint to the apartment complex Dr. Mercer resided within, barely restraining himself from just smashing through the door. He fiddled with the lock frantically as the water whipped against his back, eventually causing the door to open with a quiet chime.
He stumbled into the lobby, trying to shake off the dewdrops coating his jacket, his face, his trousers, his everything. It was pretty futile, but some of it slid off. Alex was glad he was alone here, but carried on his frantic, inelegant rush, taking the stairs one staircase at a time and rushing for the door he'd gone to before, when he was just trying to find things out. It was locked.
He removed the lock with his fist, crushing the mechanism, and let himself in, for a moment just breathing, trying to shake off the panic the simple raindrops induced. He could fight off entire squadrons of the military, survive a nuclear blast, and throw tanks around like pebbles, but water reduced him to little more than a terrified mess. Because that made sense.
With a low growl, he made his way to the Bitch of a Doctor, slipping into the unsecured room easily. He stood by the bed, like a grim reaper of some sort come to take his due, and placed one cold (definitely not clammy) hand on his creator's shoulder. "Wake up," He hissed. Maybe he wanted someone he knew to talk to, maybe he figured the guy would know why water fucked him up, maybe he hoped the bitch would finally remember that today was repeating. He didn't know, but he wanted the guy up and talking, and fast.
Dr. Mercer shot awake suddenly at the cold grip someone had on his shoulder. The room was dark and he couldn't see the intruders face under their hood, especially with the darkness of the early morning sky they stood against, but he knew they were an intruder. Had he forgotten to lock the door? He rolled off his bed, coming to unsteady feet and pulling a knife from his bedside drawer, waving it at the stranger as he snarled out questions. "Who the fuck are you, how did you get in here?"
After everything he'd been through, the knife brandished his direction was almost laughable. Almost. Alex didn't even flinch, the scowl concealed by the shadow of his hood a vivid show of how little he was willing to put up with right now. He stepped forward, and a tendril whipped out from him, just long enough to knock the knife from Bitch's hand. He was still soaked, however; it retreated as quickly as it could, like a snake clamoring into hiding.
"It's Alex." He snapped, though his hopes that Bitch would actually even remember were incredibly low. Didn't matter-if he tried to pick a fight, there were plenty of walls Alex could throw him through. For now, though, he just… he didn't even know what he wanted. He stepped away from the scientist, offering no further words. His fists remained tightly clenched at his sides; he was almost glad for the darkness concealing how tense he was.
The Blacklight like tendril lashing out, the voice, it was… Familiar. He didn't bother picking up the knife, straightening up to glower at the dripping wet man before him, moving around to investigate closer. He made to grab the others face, force it into the light, but a painful flash of memory- seeing his own face, blades in his shoulder, shattered glass doors- had him staggering back, one pale hand curled around his bed frame for support. "We've… Done this before."
While he wouldn't have expressed it in any way, he had to admit, watching Bitch's attempts to grab at him go wrong was nice. If he had touched him in his current state, nothing would have stopped him from impaling him, anyway. He moved over to the wall and leaned against it. Watching, cold gaze piercing through the dark and incredibly unamused.
"Twice." He glanced around the dark room, taking in what he could, before his gaze settled back on Bitch. A shudder ran down his spine, and he grit his teeth in annoyance. Stupid rain. Stupid creator. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension from his shoulders without success. "We've done this twice. Are you putting it together yet? Because I sure as hell don't want to explain everything again."
"I… Yes." He didn't appreciate the onslaught of memories from days he had not lived, but he stood taller, curiosity glinting in his cold eyes, even as the explanations returned to him. This was his creation, and somehow it had acquired time travel- no, a time loop! It gave him a feeling like a parent might have when their child shows them a ugly scribble of crayons- pride. Yes, that was it, pride! Blacklight, though it, or he, preferred to be called Alex, had done far more than he ever expected.
His voice, though he tried to keep it steady, was high and quick from his excitement at the events, once he'd got his thoughts back under lock and key, "I have- many questions for you. I never expected you to become sentient. I don't know where to begin!"
There was the prying scientist Alex met at the beginning of every loop. Only this time, Dana wasn't there to get between them. He cast a glance toward the window, bristling at the sound of the rain coming down and sploshing around all over the streets and sidewalk. Like hell he was going back out there. He sunk into his collar with a quiet huff, pressing himself against his wall. There was a saying about this-pick the one that was less bad, or something. He didn't have any extra memories in his head to back him up, so he pushed it aside for now.
"You can start by getting me a towel." It was half a demand, half a plea, though the former took precedence in his tone. He wasn't sure how much prodding he could handle while he was still soaked; he was surprised he hadn't broken something yet. It was uncomfortable, no, much worse than that. It felt like Bloodtox all over again without it actually hurting him-a heavy weight on his chest that tried to keep him from breathing. He paused for a good moment, regaining his composure, then continued. "It's raining out there. I'm soaked."
Keen eyes watched every uncomfortable twitch, the way something other rippled beneath the jacket without Alex seeming to notice, and he considered the reasons for it. Perhaps it- he- still breathed through his skin and the water choked him? Or perhaps the water acted as a natural viricide for Blacklight, although that seemed unlikely…
Either way, he would need drying off quickly. It wouldn't do for such a perfect creature to suffer. He stepped across the hall into the bathroom, reaching for a towel, then a glint of pink on the shelf over the sink made him pause. "If you're comfortable with hot air, there is a hairdryer here. Towels as well, but that's far less effective."
For as much as he hated Bitch's attitude and treatment of Dana, desperate times called for desperate measures-the same thing that had led to him trusting Captain Cross. Which… ended poorly, but whatever. He stalked after Dr. Mercer, moving his arms to wrap them tightly around his chest in silent dismay. While he stayed outside the bathroom (too small a space), he watched Dr. Mercer like a hawk, the light catching a glint of his bared teeth. Even so, he couldn't help but perk up (a few tendrils he didn't realize had separated from his form snapped back into place) at the thought of both towels and a hairdryer. Specifically the drying part.
"I don't care." He didn't know if he was comfortable with it, actually. He just knew he sure as hell wasn't comfortable right now. He clutched onto himself for a moment, waiting with as much patience as anyone soaking wet would have. Particularly when every cell in their body was trying to curl inside out to get away from the water. "I'm not gonna be picky if it works, alright? Just-hurry up."
Dr. Mercer shrugged and plugged the device in, tossing it at Alex, grabbing some towels and putting them on the sink edge for him when he was ready before slipping past him, tiredness driving him to his kitchen. "Suit yourself, I'm going to get coffee."
The second Dr. Mercer was out of the bathroom, Alex darted in, making the entire apartment shudder with how aggressively he slammed the door shut. After a moment of fumbling with the pink device-hairdryer-he turned it on, and immediately switched it to the maximum setting. He was quick to act, using both the hairdryer and towels alike to get rid of even the smallest molecule of rain. He had to loosen a great deal of his form to get it out of his clothes, as even artificial fabric clung to water like there was no damn tomorrow, but he eventually managed to dry. He hadn't expected it to be as much of a relief as it was; he could breathe right, and he no longer had that subconscious urge to twist himself inside out just to get away from the liquid.
At the very least, Alex was glad Dana hadn't had to see him like that.
He stepped from the bathroom, leaving a pile of towels (he'd used every single one Bitch had left out for him, for good measure) on the floor without much regard. The soft clinking of a cup, the whirr of a machine, and both Bitch's scent and one he recognized after a moment as coffee made it easy to seek the scientist out. His footsteps didn't so much as creak the floorboard, despite his destructive capacity; soon enough, he was standing right behind Dr. Mercer, watching him with far less intensity. The growl in his voice had died back down into a normal rasp, but it was laced with curiosity.
"How's your coffee?"
The Doctor jumped in his skin, turning away from the countertop mug in hand to face Alex. The virus could move very quietly indeed when he so chose, it seemed. Perfect for stealth assassinations- or sneaking up on people like him, it seemed. He took a sip of the coffee, and realised he hadn't put milk in immediately.
"Pretty shit." He muttered, opening his fridge a crack to see he had nothing resembling milk- unless he counted the mouldy blood sample he'd forgotten about weeks ago which was a curious white colour. He continued sipping the drink, letting the bitter taste drive him to wakefulness. It was nearly 4am. He wasn't supposed to be up until 10:30am, the latest possible time he could wake up. Alex didn't seem bothered, dark rings under his eyes being more of an aesthetic choice, apparently. "Do you need sleep at all?"
Shit, Dana told him not to sneak up on people like that. Even if this was just Dr. Mercer, rather than her. He muttered a quick apology, stepping aside to watch the man drink the coffee despite very plainly saying he didn't like it. Something he had to do, more than something he wanted to do, then. Like those Alex had consumed. He made a mental note to ask Dana if she had enough coffee at the safehouse-or would she be at her apartment? Shit was weird.
The question pulled Alex's focus back to the present, and after a moment of contemplation, he shrugged.
"No. Tried once. Didn't work." He thought back to it, sprawled across the couch at the safehouse, tossing and turning until he couldn't handle the stillness anymore. As if in example, he started pacing the kitchen, keeping away from the windows as much as he possibly could. "It's better for me to be awake, anyway." Couldn't protect Dana if he was unconscious.
Dr. Mercer nodded, and without prompting tugged on a beaded rope near the window, causing the blinds to cover up the rainy exterior. It wouldn't do much for the sound but it would help reduce the total unpleasant stimuli. "That makes sense, very few natural viruses exhibit regular resting behaviour, the closest would be entering a state like hibernation due to negative stimuli, which you never did show signs of, even before you… Awoke." He swilled the remainder of his coffee around the mug, thoughts coming to a trailing halt, "Could you tell me more about that?"
While Alex didn't verbally respond to the blinds closing, he visibly relaxed; his pacing slowed, although he didn't cease movement entirely. Complete stillness was something he only felt comfortable with around Dana, considering the fact he was shot the last time he tried. Besides. The more he moved, the more angles he could observe Dr. Mercer from. He was still a bitch, a bastard who dared insult Dana right to Alex's face. But he was the only victim, so to speak, Alex didn't really know. Bits and pieces, combined with what others told him, and that was it. Besides, if Bitch was going to keep staring him down like they were back in Gentek, he could damn well return the favor.
He knew a lot, too. The virus silently noted the thing about resting to himself-how much else could he learn? The desire to know about himself had faded since he learned his true identity, but faced with the man who made him, he could feel it trying to spark back up. So little he understood, so much Dr. Mercer could explain. He could really know about himself, about what it meant to be him, not Alex Mercer or any of his other disguises. As much as he disliked the bastard, he knew when someone was worth keeping around.
His thoughts were derailed by the follow-up, however. Alex turned away sharply, squeezing his eyes shut and resting a hand on his head. It was a habit, the same motion he copied for any resurfacing memories-only these were actually his.
"I woke up in a morgue. I had your face, and they called me by your name, so I thought I was you." It was… weird, referring to the fact the face he had now wasn't really his own. He knew it, and he'd known it since Cross had told him, but it was the very first one he'd ever had. Just habit, probably. Talking about it took his mind off the sound of the rain, though, so he continued, even as he brushed a hand over where bullets had once pierced through his chest. "I ran. Blackwatch chased. Eventually, I found Dana. Not much more to it than that."
Hearing his own voice talk, in the calm, near mumbling tone that Alex adopted, made Dr. Mercer unsettled, for a very simple, easy to understand reason. That was his voice, coming out of his own mouth but he was looking at the one speaking. It was like dissociating while completely sober- although the tiredness certainly didn't let him have full use of his facilities. He mused over Alex's words, pondering them. They were simple, to the point, but left bereft of so many details he'd need to know to confirm any theories he had. Might as well start with a simple, neutral question line then. "So, you don't have any memories from before you took my identity? How old would you say you are?"
The sensation wasn't something Alex could relate to. The people he took the faces of died in the process, so while this was his first interaction with someone identical to him, he knew neither of them looked like him. He shook his head at the first question; if waking up in a test tube the last three days said anything, he was perfectly fine not remembering. As for how old he was… he hadn't thought about it before. Not like his age mattered much in the middle of everyone trying to kill him.
"Around three weeks today, I guess. That's as far back as I remember." Remember that was his, anyways, though his head only had Dr. Mercer's scattered memories to go off of as of now. "Why?"
Dr. Mercer managed to cover up the surprised huff of air that left him at the admission by quickly finishing off the last dregs of his coffee, using the moment to think over the implications. Despite his complete lack of care for children in general, something about the fact his deadly weapon had all the knowledge of a newborn that barely avoided assassination every day- and a simple, trusting worldview to match unsettled him.
"You're not even a month old," He half whispered, staring with wide eyes at the pacing, nervous being before him. He couldn't exactly back away, hide the concern that slipped into his voice at this point, so he could only continue. "Did Dana- teach you anything?" He fumbled over his words, and avoided making eye contact. Shit. What the hell was he even trying to get from that question? He clamped his jaw shut, not letting any more poorly thought out words slip from between his traitorous lips.
His pacing came to a halt, and he turned to face the scientist directly. The air was different, as was Dr. Mercer's expression and tone. He thought to the time Dana called for him to be careful, right as he was headed off to handle Blackwatch and sort out his identity. Concern? It fit, but it sure as hell didn't make sense. Why was his age concerning? Why was Bitch concerned about him? He blinked several times, furrowing his brow and frowning.
"Not yet. I just need another week, then I will be." It wasn't like he was three hours old or something. That was a while ago. His tilted his head up a fraction at the mention of his sister, and he was quick to nod. "Lots of things. She's how I found out about Gentek, and most of what I know about you. I couldn't have done shit without her." The memory of the Leader Hunter took away any light that had come to his face, and he huffed a little.
"Other stuff I learned through consuming. You already know about that."
While he talked, Dr. Mercer managed to smooth down the expression on his face so it wasn't just the raw worried concern that had reared up from the depths of his cold heart, and instead resembled something vaguely professional. Which meant he just looked mildly pissed, because that was his only setting while dealing with his idiot coworkers. It seemed like Alex knew very little on his own merits, if he guessed the implications of consuming right. Perfect for murder, not so much for daily life- if the nutella incident or breaking a whole wall in a mere temper tantrum showed anything. "If you want to know anything- anything at all- you can ask me."
He glanced up, watching the subtle shifts in Dr. Mercer's expression from behind the shadow of his hood. Hide his face as he wanted, Alex could still smell the concern on him. Understand it, no, but he could definitely smell it. But it didn't matter. The scientist was offering him information, and for the longest time, it was all he genuinely wanted. He flicked both his wrists, just as something to do with his hands as he pondered. As of now, one question was at the front of his mind.
"Why is water so bad?" He made a sharp motion to the window, content with the blinds concealing the outside. "If you… made me, you'd know. Nothing like that has happened before." Save for Bloodtox, but that would take a whole round of explaining. Thinking back on both incidents had him anxiously tensing, tendrils coming to the surface and sinking back into his biomass at regular intervals.
The body language was quite inhuman, but Dr. Mercer could understand it quite well. The mere thought of water drove him away, like salt to a slug. "I'd been pondering that. I've got a few theories, but it's difficult to say without tests of your tissues- your makeup likely changed somewhat when you developed sentience. It's possible water is acting like a poison to you, or that it prevents you from breathing air by coating your 'skin' completely."
He stood up, moving to place the cup in the sink, but stopped himself before turning the tap on. That would be… Quite the bad idea. "We never tested your effects on truly living beings, just samples, but a large part of the Blacklight project was to create a virus that could survive outside of a host for a long time. Which meant a lot of effort went towards ensuring you could survive drought, extreme temperatures, and locate potential new hosts efficiently- among other things. It's possible the specialisations against water loss made you more vulnerable to getting negative effects from being near water. Your reactions seem similar to before- though filtered through a mind this time."
With a sigh, Dr. Mercer turned to face the young man across from him, meeting those careful, focused, nervous eyes for a moment. "I can't say this enough, but we never expected you to become sentient. For the most part, viruses are simply snippets of code which devour their hosts. Your ability to use biomass, and your sense of self, make you very difficult to predict. I'd love to speculate more on your properties, but it's quite possible you merely discovered a phobia you didn't realise you had before. It could be purely psychological, or a mix, or even just an instinctive response."
Despite how big of a deal had been made out of Alex's age mere minutes ago, he kept up with the explanation just fine. It was like talking to Dr. Ragland, or Karen, though the latter spurred a flicker of dismay to his face. From the perspective of a virus, it made sense-he was too adapted to dry climates, so water was bad. It was the talk about phobias and the psychological that threw him off. Maybe he should have consumed a psychologist. He shook off the thought. Whatever it meant, it probably wasn't that big of a deal. He had the water thing figured out, meaning he could make sure that didn't get used against him by Blackwatch.
He turned his attention outside, listening for a moment. No Blackwatch, just rain. The occasional car from those who had morning shifts. If the days kept repeating, they wouldn't find Dana or him, right? Not if everything that happened kept getting undone. It was reassuring and anxiety wracking all the same. Without taking his eyes off the wall, focused on what was going on beyond it, he moved on.
"Do you need something to eat? Besides coffee."... Not that letting Alex cook was an even remotely good idea, as he'd since learned. But it was worth asking, until he came up with more questions. He could ask about daily life, but that hadn't occurred to him just yet-much less the idea it was an option.
Dr. Mercer shook his head no, and stood up, brushing the wrinkles of his slept-in clothes out. "I'm not hungry at the moment," Lies, his stomach whispered, but he ignored it, "If you want to play around in the kitchen, however, I'll not stop you. I've still got…" He looked at the kitchen clock, doing some mental maths, "Just over five hours till I should go to work. I'm going to watch the news or something. Try to figure out how to explain the missing vial of bioweapon, and such."
Slinking off to the living room, he turned the news on, seeing with a grimace the topic of the reports. Even if time was repeating this day over and over, he still had the rest of today to get through, and that included showing up to work where he was genetically engineering a deadly virus- which was now missing from the workplace. His colleagues would panic, no doubt. Perhaps they would find Alex on security tapes and decide to kill them both. Just the thought of it made his stomach churn. The fools wouldn't understand what had happened. Perhaps if he looked for evidence at Penn, or sought out the cause of the time loop, his mind would settle.
Alex narrowed his eyes, trying to determine the truth in Bitch's words, but ultimately just let him go about his business. Five hours until they needed to explain where the hell Blacklight had gone, and frankly, he'd leave that to Dr. Mercer to figure out. Not wanting to try his hand at cooking without any memories to go off of, he stepped from the kitchen. Rather than following the other into the living room, however, he moved down the hallway, seeking out the photos he knew lined the wall.
They were just where he'd left them. Photos of Dr. Mercer and Dana, Dana and a friend, Dr. Mercer and Karen. He let his gaze linger on the last one, a tight frown briefly making its way onto his face. Did Dr. Mercer know Karen Parker would willingly sell him out? Or had she known with a single glance that Alex wasn't the one she knew? He forced his gaze away, settling some of the biomass that had formed into small, jagged spikes up his arms from the heavy feeling of betrayal. He'd trusted her. Hadn't felt the same degree of "together" that she apparently had with Dr. Mercer, but he'd still trusted her.
Better to look at the photos of Dana. But even then, gazing at the familiar face, he furrowed his brow. The photos had made sense when he thought they were his. He would have treasured every moment he had with Dana, taken photos, put them up on the walls to show just how much he cared about his sister.
But with Dr. Mercer, why would he decorate his wall with images of a "good for nothing journalist"? If he thought so little of her, then why did he remind himself of her? He brushed his fingers over one of the photos, grimacing as flashes of memory that weren't his filled his head. They looked so close. Why did Dr. Mercer push her away?
...Like hell if he could figure that out. He could only ever make sense of people by consuming them. Alex scowled, rubbing his eyes with an irritated huff. They had bigger issues to focus on, right? So they would focus on those. Following the fading scent of coffee and the sound of the TV, Alex made his way to the living room, lingering in the doorway and watching the news with a distant sort of curiosity. Dr. Mercer was either deep in thought, or very annoyed with whatever the TV was showing.
"You said we have five hours, right?" He kept his voice just loud enough to be heard over the TV's sound, though he didn't move his gaze from it. It was actually pretty interesting. "So we should do something with all that time. Any ideas?"
He looked away from the TV to Alex, contemplative. "I was considering heading out to check on Penn Station to see if there's any evidence there that perhaps travelled back with you, but the sky is still drizzling. It doesn't clear up until around 2pm, unfortunately."
He shrugged his shoulders, leather jacket crumpling briefly at the motion. "Until I get my hands on something related to the current situation, there's not much to do. Usually I'd sleep away most of my spare time, so I'm sure you understand why I'm not the most... entertaining host."
Not until 2pm-also known as a shit ton of rain. He swore under his breath, sinking into his hood like an angry child might. Normally, he would have passed all the extra time by running around the city, but not even that was an option. At least investigating Penn Station was a good idea, even if the mere name had him gritting his teeth and holding his head. It was the hardest memory of Dr. Mercer's to dwell on. And for good reason, seeing as the man had literally died then. Alex's interest in the TV died off as soon as it had come, and he wandered back into the hallway, intent on pacing the hours away.
He could handle waiting until the rain stopped. That was fine. And if they weren't able to find anything out today, there was always tomorrow.
The hours passed swiftly, but as 10:30 AM drew closer, and Dr Mercer was ready to set off on the quick, 15 minute walk to the lab, one thing remained to do. He followed the sounds of heavy footfalls- Alex had long since ceased the ghostlike walking- to meet him in the middle of the hallway. He cleared his throat, "We need to set off soon. You'll have to brave the rain." There- quick, precise, and to the point. Hopefully it would be enough.
If he was honest, Alex was bored out of his mind. The more he paced the house, the more trapped he started to feel; he was used to running across rooftops, shattering concrete when he landed, battling against the wind when he chose to glide. Not… an apartment. He hadn't spent this much time indoors since Dr. Ragland was investigating the parasite. He stopped caring about how heavy his footfalls were, putting his mind entirely to pacing every inch of the household to try and occupy himself. But he'd finished that goal within the first hour, so he was just bored. The floor creaked unsteadily beneath him, and just as he was going to start running his claws along the walls to get some kind of activity, he nearly ran into Dr. Mercer.
His arms shifted back to hands, though what he heard wasn't exactly a good thing. He could get out of the house, thank fucking god, but at the cost of the rain. A shudder ran through his whole body, biomass twisting in dismay just beneath the surface despite the fact he hadn't even moved toward the door yet. He shuddered, and before he could even think about it, he was shaking his head.
"No." He didn't give himself the chance to reconsider, instead twisting on his heel to return to his pacing. This wasn't something he could just say no to. What the hell was he doing. He wanted out, but the thought of going outside now had his whole body hissing disagreement.
Dr Mercer shook his head with a sigh when Alex reacted so fearfully to the suggestion. He had little patience for this sort of thing, but the fact that it was Alex and also the time constraints made him try again, albeit tersely. He stepped over some of the dents in his floor (thank fuck there was a time loop, he liked his flat floor to stay that way), and called out, voice flat with irritation, "Alex? I know this will be difficult for you but you don't have to be so damn bratty about it. I do own water proof clothes."
His creator's audible annoyance made tendrils ripple down his back, though not as freely as they normally would have-after all, his body seemed more intent on closing in on him than anything else. He would be as bratty as he damn well pleased. It wasn't his fault Dr. Mercer had made him intolerant to water. He glanced at the scientist over his shoulder, unbothered by the fairly deep holes he currently stood in. He knew they needed to go. How else were they supposed to get any answers? It was just that the more he thought about the rain, the more repulsed he felt about going out there. Waterproof clothes or not, he doubted they'd cover his entire biomass, a thought that made him hiss in disdain.
"If you go," he motioned toward the door without turning around, "I can catch up later. Once the rain dies down, I can get to Gentek in a matter of minutes. I don't know why the hell I need to come along now." Because he was an escaped bioweapon whose absence could cause incomprehensible chaos. He crossed his arms, trying to get his writhing biomass under control with a very firm scowl. He could take a whole nuke. He could handle some rain. If he ran, he could get out of the rain quick enough that it wouldn't matter, anyway.
"...What waterproof clothes do you have." He turned all the way around, clenching and unclenching his fists uneasily. "As long as we're quick, we'll be fine."
"Well for one, leather jackets," He eyed up the virus, seeing the way spikes rippled out of the 'clothing', "If you could wear my actual jacket rather than just recreate it that'd offer some protection. There's also some old raincoats and boots in the attic." Dr Mercer rolled his eyes. "Worse comes to worse, we could just seal you in a tupperware tub for the journey. I have no doubt you could break free of that, since reinforced glass was so simple for you."
The suggestion earned Dr. Mercer a side-eyes glance, followed by a brief pause-just long enough to stick his tongue out. He'd seen Dana do the same when she was annoyed, though not to the extent of being genuinely bothered. It was… shit, what was the word. Playful? Yeah. Either way, he said there were coats and shit in the attic, a way to avoid the rain. The attic was above them, that much he knew, even if he wasn't sure of where the entrance was.
He dropped into a crouch, staring intently at the ceiling above them both as tendrils started to ripple across his legs. It seemed like the quickest way to get the rain supplies Dr. Mercer was referring to, at least to him. So he kicked off from the ground, crashing right through the roof in one swift movement and leaving a gaping hole in his wake. He steadied himself before he could jump too high up, landing on the floor just past the hole with a heavy thud. Easy enough. Now, to find the coats.
… Or to get horrified stares from people he didn't recognize. Why were there people in Bitch's attic-no, this was a different apartment. There were a lot of rooms around here, it was an apartment complex. But...
"Shit."
Dr Mercer didn't have time to try grabbing Alex before he was gone into the upstairs neighbour's apartment. "ALEX!" He yelled, somehow surprised despite himself. "If you're not going to kill them, get back down here. The attic is my damn crawlspace, you idiot."
"You didn't say that," he snapped right back, glancing to the people he'd accidentally scared the shit out of. His biomass churned just beneath the surface, reminding him that what he had eaten the last loop hadn't stayed. But they weren't Gentek or Blackwatch. So, with a quick apology, he dropped back into Mercer's apartment. The floor completely shattered upon impact this time around, though thankfully not enough to leave him dropping through. He stepped from his newly formed crater, arms crossed and head tilted despite the utter destruction he was causing everywhere he went. It was just what he was used to. Most things were already broken by the time he came around to break them, anyway.
"You get the coats, I'll listen for cops." He brushed off the insult, more focused on survival than what Dr. Mercer thought of him. He could hear the confused and fearful whispers of the neighbors; something that was a lot easier for him to feel bad about. Poor bastards. Wasn't their fault Dr. Mercer wasn't specific, and that Alex was used to the top level apartment. He was a little annoyed that Mercer had immediately told him to kill them, though. He didn't just kill random people. It wasn't right. People only died when they wanted to kill him first, and the associates had been an accident.
The scientist scoffed under his breath when Alex dropped back down, leaving his noisy neighbours quite undevoured. Seemed like they had such a kind viewset, not deciding to kill everyone. Dr Mercer wasn't keen on leaving witnesses, but he was only sharp of mind so he could hardly do the deed himself. This virus was proving to be more and more like a child- destroying everything they touched and categorically refusing to stay still. Even as they listened out for danger, they were moving subtly, swaying one minute, drumming fingers the next- just filled to the brim with youthful energy.
He stepped carefully around the nearly caved in crater as wide as his hall, and fiddled with the loose ceiling panels in his room to access it, pulling out some dusty brown raincoats from years ago, when he still tried to get out somewhat, and some boots fell out as well. He neary left with just those, but after a moment's thought grabbed one of his least favourite patterned leather jacket to add to the pile in his arms, which he promptly shoved in Alex's general direction. The disgruntled scientist wasn't even going to bother trying to 'house train' the being of pure chaos before him, at this rate. If the clothes didn't work and the cops came, he'd just fuck around avoiding them until time rolled back. And hopefully he would be able to have the next day go better. He was pissed enough at his routine being interrupted that he'd much rather go to sleep in his wrecked room than deal with any more of this bullshit.
Alex wasn't lying-he was listening to everything around them: the cars outside, the whispering above, the creak of floorboards a few apartments away, the sound of Dr. Mercer's footsteps against the floor, his agitated breaths. Of course he was pissed, Alex was wrecking his entire house. But it wasn't like he was the only one frustrated. The virus felt like he was trying to navigate a maze with a blindfold, fumbling with what little memory he had to navigate the world around him in a way that didn't put a target on his head. He turned his head as he heard Dr. Mercer's approach, easily taking the coats and boots shoved his direction before the scientist was back off to whatever the hell he was doing. Being angry, probably. He looked down at the clothes he'd been handed, running a hand over the slick fabric.
...And he frowned, furrowing his brow in frustrated confusion. What the hell was he supposed to do with these? He was supposed to wear them instead of just mimic them, but none of his memories exactly revolved around "how to put on clothes like a normal person". And even if his creator had previously said he could ask him anything, he wasn't going to ask. If only Dana was here. He stepped back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him so he could consume the articles of clothing. Dr. Mercer wouldn't be able to tell, if he was careful, and he was too damn frustrated and lost to want to ask. The "clothing" layer of his biomass soon became the leather jacket, brown raincoat and rain boots, replacing what he had on flawlessly. And beneath that, on everything except his face, he shifted into his armor. There. Protection, without having to death with Bitch's bad mood. If he was careful, he could keep up the act.
Out of the bathroom he went, the only indication that his outfit wasn't what it seemed being his even heavier footsteps and slowed pace. He brought no attention to it, moving right to the door and forcing down the panic trying to surge in his chest. The scientist was already there, and with little more than a small nod of acknowledgement from Alex, he headed out the door. It was a quick walk. This would be fine.