Join the Hivemind.

A weird hodgepodge of aus where Leon Kennedy fails to eliminate Los Illuminados, succumbs to Las Plagas, and is taken into the Fog by the Entity from Dead by Daylight. 18+, contains themes of body horror and mind control, likes and follows back from B-Eye-Sexual!

[plagas-bound]

A man runs through the heart of an unnamed island off the coast of Valdelobos, Spain. It was all too much. The parasite weakened him, Los Illuminados was simply too powerful, and in the end they emerged victorious and he failed his mission with only shame to show for it. Leon knew he was being followed, hearing the echoing call of the cult in his mind, begging him to return to his new family, and his chest surged with a primal call back. Running out of time. He collapses in a clearing, screaming out to the heavens as the Plagas virus corrupts him and his body begins to twist and shift with horrific malleability. His mind slips away as the cracking of bone and writhing of flesh becomes white noise... And a new voice beckons. Not the cult. Not the radio. But something much more ancient, and with his mind slipping further away he reaches out to this Eldritch song... And a rolling Fog engulfs his twisted form.

Leon Kennedy goes missing in action.

New Killer: The Hivemind.

A monstrous killer capable of infecting survivors with the Las Plagas virus and corrupting them if they ignore its call for too long. The Hivemind can use its piercing claw to inject survivors with Las Plagas, which will slowly grow within them for the duration of the match. You must use injectors scattered across the map to slow its progress, or else you may find yourself unable to focus and become weak to the Hivemind's influence.

[18+ Blog! Open to Asks! Come poke the somber bug boy]

[fabledresources]

In the spirit of Sinday, feel free to send 💞 + any dirty questions you may have for them on anon, and they HAVE to answer honestly!

[manufactoredxafterxdark]

He cannot even remember precisely what started the conflict - if it was something important or if they were just prone to being at one another's throats. Regardless, he's not stopping now. Even though the wake of such a fight has damaged the realm, it doesn't deter Wesker at all. That temper is uncontrollable once it is ignited. Even Moreso, it would seem, whenever he was in Leon's presence.

The sound he produces is not human by any stretch, though it rumbles loudly as he bounds directly behind his target, feeling the rush of heat that washes over him as the two exchange those unusual insults back and fourth - having never spoken them out loud.

Uroboros stirs in his veins - attentive, and well aware of the Las Plagas that hums constantly in their current company.

"You're going to wish you never came here." his thoughts are ominous. Surging through him like pins and needles as he bounds in quick pursuit, enraged by the way this one has both invaded the realm he held such a vice-like hold over and upturned his peace simply by existing so close to him. Wesker has always been selfish in that regards. Offended - or so it would seem - by the mere thought that anyone would think of slighting him and actually getting away with it.

As he summons the familiar long black tendrils from once arm, he emits a low growl from the back of his throat, lashing it forward in an attempt to snatch the retreating target by one of his legs. "Enough games Leon."

[plagas-bound]

It's Wesker's persistence and fury that drives Leon forwards, and gives him enough adrenaline to narrowly miss Wesker's grab, resulting in the other man slamming into the staircase wall as he bounds up the stairs and makes his way across the top floor. Leon passes the statue of the goddess with a smirk on his lips, taking a glance back to send Wesker a quick mental message. Too slow, Albert.

He fully acknowledges that he can't run forever, that Wesker is a part of his daily life now and that this whole thing is terribly futile. But it's the newfound thrill of the chase that makes it worth it. The thought of hunting down others with Las Plagas guiding him is horrific, but using it to run like this is invigorating. And he gets to piss off Wesker in the meantime, a treat in its own right. Those feral growls that sound behind him are music to his ears.

It seems like he's heading for Iron's office now, passing the threshold and already out into the hallway behind it when an idea hits him. He's got some distance on Wesker here, and a broken line of sight. Leon hops up onto the ceiling, balling up in the upper corner of the hall right beside the office entrance and goes quiet. His heartbeat is loud in his ears and this is a ballsy move, but the satisfaction would be immense.

You're stuck with me, Wesker. There's nothing you can do about it. And for as long as I'm here, I'll make that your problem.

Leon goes eerily still, hearing the rapid paced footsteps of Wesker running through Iron's office as he curls up and tries to keep quiet, even attempting to dampen their connection via Plagas if possible. If anything to make sure Wesker doesn't hear how excited he is, or get an idea as to what he's up to.

[plagas-bound]

Rp Starter ( @the-game-warden )

Jake thought he was getting used to going up against monsters. Especially lately, what with the inclusion of literal aliens and creatures like whatever the hell the Dredge was. Still, it was hard to get used to the newer killers.

Especially newer killers that looked familiar.

He was walking down a hall in RPD at the start of a trial, knife drawn and eyes open for any sign of movement, when he noticed someone standing in the library. All he saw at first was the vaguely-police uniform and blond hair.

“Leon?”

A voice calls his name, an attempt to pull his attention forwards. But he doesn't recognize it, and so he doesn't rouse himself from his dazed state and instead the body follows the voice with a soft chitter and hiss.

This is not Leon Kennedy in any familiar way to Jake, and is instead a twisted form with shredded limbs and tendrils squirming aggressively around him. What is this? Survivor. Has to be. The Hivemind snarls and steps forward, all eyes on Jake as he begins to pursue without much thought outside of this being another target to bring to their collective consciousness.

[plagas-bound]

The knife misses by virtue of Jake's waning mental state, Leon able to dodge out of the way as his free hand grabs the man's throat and slams him into a wall. The knife clatters to the ground, the large eye on the killer's forehead staring down intensely. Ignore them. Focus on me. This is just one match out of millions, you deserve to take this one easy, don't you?

The grip lessens into something less forceful and more sensitive, Leon's visage frowning as a clawed thumb goes to stroke his cheek. A soft chitter follows, an attempt to make the horrific scenario a little more warm and welcoming. Isn't this nice? It hurts so much. I know. But... It gets better, I promise. It's almost like a bit of genuine hurt comes through, not just the soft lulling voice of the Hivemind but a plea from something within.

The gentle tugging sensation in Jake's mind persists, the warmth calling to him and so too the eager person wanting Jake to just relax. The knife, meanwhile, is kicked off and away for safety. It's just them now.

The Plagas virus takes root in his chest firmly, an undeniable physical compression on the lungs and internal organs that squirms with each harsh movement.

[manufactoredxbyxdesign]

The book is caught midair, limping slightly as a black appendage wraps itself around the thick cover and lowers it into his outstretched hand.

There is a slight glow from behind his dark frames. An almost haunting shade of red intensifies as he listens to the chittering hisses from above him.

"Do not throw them!" He warns. Tucking the heavy tome under one arm once he is satisfied it has not been damaged at all in the process of reaching him.

"The archives are the one thing in this entire realm that is keeping me even-tempered and if you start destroying them, there's going to be more than just a tiger mounted in Irons's old office."

It is hard to tell if Leon can be reasoned with in the way he might have been before. The man that Wesker is familiar with is far removed from the version that hisses and crawls along the top of the bookcases. Las Plagas was a parasite he was more than just a little familiar with. Its uncanny effects on the rookie's mind are more than evident. Still, he is able to at least comprehend some instructions. So there is that.

Something feral in him stirs as he looks up. A creeping, primal sensation that makes Uroboros squirm and writhe inside his body like it wants to burst out and attack the other. He lets out a low hiss - a retaliation for having had the book thrown at him.

[plagas-bound]

The hiss is returned as Leon crawls to the top of the bookshelf, perching like an animal as he glares down at Wesker with each eye on his body. It's tempting to just throw another book, to grab one and tear out a page just out of spite... But dying doesn't really seem that fun, and Wesker could easily tear him limb from limb or gouge out all his eyes and leave him like that. Basic regeneration came in a package deal with Plagas, but the process was agonizing.

But it is funny that out of all the places Leon chose to set up a space to sleep he picked the one place keeping Wesker tolerable.

"Don't mock me and maybe I'll be a half decent librarian, Albert." He rolls his shoulders, soft cracking sounds filling the air as his spines seem to readjust and the rookie gets on all fours. It's like a cat walking across a fence, how Leon moves back to his little nesting place and gets comfortable again. If Wesker wants to deal with him properly he'll have to climb his way all up top.

Not an issue for the man surely, but more of an inconvenience. "Or else you'll have to come up here yourself and I don't plan on playing nice if you do." He'd absolutely scratch the Hell out of Wesker if he was within scratching range, no hesitation. Bonus points if he smacks off those stupid glasses.

[plagas-bound]

Something nearby is hurgling and gurgling. (@lilguydredge)

Leon is in the middle of trying to figure out a place to sleep for himself, having torn up a bunch of books he considered not important and used their pages as an almost bedding. The urge to nest can be blamed almost entirely on the Plagas, some primal instinct fueling the need to craft someplace comfortable to rest. It's... Embarrassing, almost. But luckily he doesn't care about how Wesker feels, knows the Nemesis can't feel, and Birkin is caught up in his feelings and hardly explores the building. And so he feels safe enough to do this unorthodox thing, getting comfortable...

When he hears a strange noise to his left.

It's the territorial instinct that gets him on edge, tensing as he pokes his head around and tries to locate the strange sounds. It's when he nudges over a pile of books that he spots it, this... Thing. This weird thing that's hurgling at him. The harsh spikes and tentacles flare up in response and Leon gets closer to the ground, tail lashing out and thumping around.

... he makes chittering noises back.

[plagas-bound]

There's soft shuffling as Leon fixes up everything the little guy knocks over in his wake, not out of some compulsion to keep everything neat but moreso to keep himself occupied in the meantime. Books were reshelved, pencils were nudged back into place, and as he's fixing a stack of paper he notices the creature takes interest of a book in particular. The cover is hard to read at this angle although there's a good bet it's either virology or law based.

"Can you read buddy?" The question is asked just as it begins to split itself apart, Leon watching in horrified fascination as it shoves the book into itself and then returns to normal. The lack of indents showing a book even existed is... Interesting, but not too surprising considering this thing can just do what it wants apparently. Physics be damned.

... can it eat anything? Perhaps an annoying man across the walkway? It's tempting to think about, but he also doesn't want to take advantage of whatever this is for his own nefarious purposes. That'd be rude. For now he's back on observation duty, curious about what else this sentient disaster Roomba can do.

[plagas-bound]

It had taken a lot of willpower for Leon not to immediately take out all his aggression on Wesker once they locked eyes at the top of the stairs in RPD, feeling an immediate hostility that was an unhealthy mix of Plagas being territorial and his own feelings on his former Captain. And he honestly expected the other to do the same, to engage in bloody brutality until one of them was forced to go through the tedious process of coming back from death here. A process Leon couldn't yet comprehend, and honestly didn't want to.

... but when Wesker motioned for them to talk in Iron's office, he was puzzled, surprised enough to actually change his attack plans and reluctantly follow inside with a grumble. As the other tyrant continued on and made his proposition, it left Leon unsure how to feel exactly. On one hand, unfortunately, Wesker was right. Not many people here could comprehend the struggle that followed viral infection like this, let alone the Plagas parasite, besides maybe Birkin... But the man never seemed in the mood for civilized conversation.

But on the other hand, he didn't like the idea of being studied like some sort of insect under a microscope. Is that really all Wesker wants? Research? There's gotta be a catch... Even if getting this parasite under control sounds like a bit of a dream come true. If he can control it he can finally sort out his own thoughts, feel less clouded and fuzzy all the time. Maybe he can reduce the harm he does to others here. Maybe he can finally stop turning a blind eye to it.

"What kind of studies are you looking to do, Wesker? Dissection? And bold of you to finally become amicable after all the bullshit you pulled back up top." Could you blame the man for not immediately trusting the guy who betrayed S.T.A.R.S and tried to kill his friends?

[sangelune]

"You are making quite a lot of assumptions." Wesker lets his eyes roll, though grateful for the glasses covering his eyes. To Leon - he just keeps the same impassive look. "In case you have neglected to notice, those of us collected here are from varying differing points in our timeline. Mine was more advanced than yours. Where I came from - you succeeded." It may come as a jab, though he does not intend it as such.

"I tasted failure." He puts it plainly. "I have had time to think about it. My life, my choices. However - none of you are going to be concerned with the why. All you'll care about is what I have done. Which is the narrow minded view I have come to expect of you." It's stated without a hint of emotion, rather simple fact.

"To study does not always require barbaric methods." He moves toward Iron's desk, seating himself on it. Perhaps an idle sign of sheer disrespect toward the other man. He never liked Irons. Never would.

"The irony between us, Kennedy, is that we have both done nothing more than what we were told to do. We inherited the values and flaws of those who raised us, taught us, and then we acted upon those teachings. It was all following orders. I hold no ill will toward anyone any longer - though Chris does still infuriate me at times." An admittance he can easily make.

"Study, as I see it, is simply observing. Perhaps asking questions and expecting honest answers from time to time. Testing endurance and strength. I have no need to dissect you to learn and understand you. Unless that is something you wish of me. Even then, I'd rather not consider it. Live subjects are much easier to learn from."

[plagas-bound]

Whether Wesker realizes it or not, the mention of Leon's failures has at least ensured him he won't be attacked immediately after, because Kennedy's expression grows somber and maybe even a little dazed. Right. The different timelines... He took notice when the same voices that joined the Hivemind still sounded as confused as ever, despite having apparently gone through the process before. They were simply different people, from different times. To hear that in one world he actually won... Despite the many differing factors that come with being from one timeline to the left, he can't help but deepen his sadder feelings. Because that means it was possible.

He zones back in and refocuses when Wesker begins to talk about the irony between the two, and it hits a little harder with the previous revelation. Right. A snort leaves him but he quickly tries to cover it with a cough when the tyrant speaks of no longer having grudges besides the obvious. "What happened to you to make you change your mind? You funnel all that hatred into Chris?"

The death of Albert Wesker was a foreign concept to Leon at this point. Most survivors didn't know about it, and the S.T.A.R.S members that were here had been here long enough not to poke at the topic. They were too preoccupied with the terror of seeing a former friend twisted into such a form to even think about Wesker. "Didn't realize this place was a palate cleanser for you."

Now to contend with the experiment aspect. It... Sounds more like police training back at home, even if the memory is a bit faded by now. Secret service training is a far more recent thought, and it was miserable. He missed back when he was getting ready to become an officer, the excitement of getting to play the role in something important. Something he's reminded of every time he sees that hanging banner, and knows he was too late to the party.

"... If that's all you plan on doing, just some questions and endurance training... Doesn't sound too bad." Something he's reluctant to admit but true nonetheless. For as much as Las Plagas is a nightmare, he does enjoy using it for casual fun, like running around maps outside of trials from time to time. What does it matter if Wesker is there with a stopwatch?

[plagas-bound]

Rp Starter ( @the-game-warden )

Jake thought he was getting used to going up against monsters. Especially lately, what with the inclusion of literal aliens and creatures like whatever the hell the Dredge was. Still, it was hard to get used to the newer killers.

Especially newer killers that looked familiar.

He was walking down a hall in RPD at the start of a trial, knife drawn and eyes open for any sign of movement, when he noticed someone standing in the library. All he saw at first was the vaguely-police uniform and blond hair.

“Leon?”

A voice calls his name, an attempt to pull his attention forwards. But he doesn't recognize it, and so he doesn't rouse himself from his dazed state and instead the body follows the voice with a soft chitter and hiss.

This is not Leon Kennedy in any familiar way to Jake, and is instead a twisted form with shredded limbs and tendrils squirming aggressively around him. What is this? Survivor. Has to be. The Hivemind snarls and steps forward, all eyes on Jake as he begins to pursue without much thought outside of this being another target to bring to their collective consciousness.

[plagas-bound]

Jake has ended up pinned right back at the wall as Leon catches his breath, the popped eye fading out into black sludge as it closes up and a new one begins to expand outwards. Slightly larger, a bit red, but functional it seems. "Annoying." He grunts out, picking up Jake with the tail itself as it continues to spear the shorter man down and he walks his way over to a hook and slams him onto it. The tail is pulled out, also an extremely painful process as it's like pulling a fishing hook out of your shoulder. It definitely takes some flesh with it.

Leon hisses out and looks around the area, no longer paying Jake any mind as it tries to locate more survivors to turn towards the Hivemind. There. Stray blood pools at the bottom of the steps, circling around into the meeting room. A screech echoes throughout the space as he jumps forward onto the walls themselves, completely ignoring the stairs as he uses his back claw to whip into the room and seemingly aiming to crawl along the ceiling.

Jake is left there waiting for rescue, and while he waits he'd begin to feel a deep change on the inside. The burning pain of being mangled now seems to coalesce in his chest and back, as a heavy weight seems to clasp over his spine. The parasite itself has grown fast in the time since injection, which would normally take hours but is now being boiled down to minutes thanks to the Entity. For now it just holds its place connected to his spine, the beginning stages of Plagas infection. And until he's unhooked and moving, it'll wait.

[the-game-warden]

This was easily the worst part of being the Warden. There was never a time limit to how long he could hang on these damn things, so as long as everyone else was busy he’d be stuck, his own weight gradually adding more and more pain to the injury. The only upside was that he had plenty of time to pull himself off the hook, but that in itself was a painful process that failed more times than it succeeded.

Still, he didn’t like the sound of what Leon was doing to the other survivors. He didn’t want to wait.

Jake started the slow, arduous process of unhooking himself, biting back cries of pain into frustrated grunts as he got almost all the way before sliding back onto the blood-slicked hook. The entire time the infection continued to spread, but the hot ache along his spine went unnoticed as he dealt with the more active strain on his body.

Eventually Jake got down, the effort bringing the hook clattering down behind him, and he took a moment to check his own injuries.

Something else.

A pause. Every now and then the whispers in the back of his mind coalesced into words. Warnings, usually. Sometimes more direct communication from Kel when he’d displeased her somehow. But this was… weird. Something else? What did that mean?

There is something else here.

[plagas-bound]

A survivor screams in the distance, somewhere on the bottom floor. Their screams die out in a gurgle and a few seconds later they're hooked, and all falls quiet. The burning in Jake's chest flares up significantly, to the point where he'd have no choice but to double over in pain as more blood pools in his mouth. The parasite stirs, and a new voice enters his head. Welcome.

It's a faint whisper but it's Leon alright, layered over itself and echoing inside Jake's head.

You're bleeding. You're tired. But if you relax and let go then you can wake up out of this trial and it'll be all over.

A softer feeling overcomes Jake, a gentle tug at the chest that turns the burning warmth into more of a quiet heat. It's like being tugged back into bed by your sleeve, and a soft voice coaxing you. It's warm and it's calling out to him to let it happen. And then footsteps at the bottom of the stairway, the Hivemind stepping into view with bloody hands. They make eye contact.

There you are.

Despite the clear way and path to the game warden, Leon simply stands there, the full weight of his multi gaze coming down on the man above to see if the coaxing is working. You've worked so hard. You deserve a break. Come join me.

And then a soft ache in the head, another voice, more subdued and without words. Just a soft sigh as another survivor comes into view from the outside stumbling in. Zarina. Her voice is a soft mess of warbled nonsense as she wanders up to the central area near Leon and drops down in front of a hook. Waiting for Leon to hook her.

Join us.

[plagas-bound]

[ Should probably show y'all the icon in full too ]

[plagas-bound]

[ Take a Small Plagas boy <3 ]

[plagas-bound]

Rp Starter ( @the-game-warden )

Jake thought he was getting used to going up against monsters. Especially lately, what with the inclusion of literal aliens and creatures like whatever the hell the Dredge was. Still, it was hard to get used to the newer killers.

Especially newer killers that looked familiar.

He was walking down a hall in RPD at the start of a trial, knife drawn and eyes open for any sign of movement, when he noticed someone standing in the library. All he saw at first was the vaguely-police uniform and blond hair.

“Leon?”

A voice calls his name, an attempt to pull his attention forwards. But he doesn't recognize it, and so he doesn't rouse himself from his dazed state and instead the body follows the voice with a soft chitter and hiss.

This is not Leon Kennedy in any familiar way to Jake, and is instead a twisted form with shredded limbs and tendrils squirming aggressively around him. What is this? Survivor. Has to be. The Hivemind snarls and steps forward, all eyes on Jake as he begins to pursue without much thought outside of this being another target to bring to their collective consciousness.

[plagas-bound]

Jake has ended up pinned right back at the wall as Leon catches his breath, the popped eye fading out into black sludge as it closes up and a new one begins to expand outwards. Slightly larger, a bit red, but functional it seems. "Annoying." He grunts out, picking up Jake with the tail itself as it continues to spear the shorter man down and he walks his way over to a hook and slams him onto it. The tail is pulled out, also an extremely painful process as it's like pulling a fishing hook out of your shoulder. It definitely takes some flesh with it.

Leon hisses out and looks around the area, no longer paying Jake any mind as it tries to locate more survivors to turn towards the Hivemind. There. Stray blood pools at the bottom of the steps, circling around into the meeting room. A screech echoes throughout the space as he jumps forward onto the walls themselves, completely ignoring the stairs as he uses his back claw to whip into the room and seemingly aiming to crawl along the ceiling.

Jake is left there waiting for rescue, and while he waits he'd begin to feel a deep change on the inside. The burning pain of being mangled now seems to coalesce in his chest and back, as a heavy weight seems to clasp over his spine. The parasite itself has grown fast in the time since injection, which would normally take hours but is now being boiled down to minutes thanks to the Entity. For now it just holds its place connected to his spine, the beginning stages of Plagas infection. And until he's unhooked and moving, it'll wait.

[plagas-bound]

Something nearby is hurgling and gurgling. (@lilguydredge)

Leon is in the middle of trying to figure out a place to sleep for himself, having torn up a bunch of books he considered not important and used their pages as an almost bedding. The urge to nest can be blamed almost entirely on the Plagas, some primal instinct fueling the need to craft someplace comfortable to rest. It's... Embarrassing, almost. But luckily he doesn't care about how Wesker feels, knows the Nemesis can't feel, and Birkin is caught up in his feelings and hardly explores the building. And so he feels safe enough to do this unorthodox thing, getting comfortable...

When he hears a strange noise to his left.

It's the territorial instinct that gets him on edge, tensing as he pokes his head around and tries to locate the strange sounds. It's when he nudges over a pile of books that he spots it, this... Thing. This weird thing that's hurgling at him. The harsh spikes and tentacles flare up in response and Leon gets closer to the ground, tail lashing out and thumping around.

... he makes chittering noises back.

[lilguydredge]

Whoah!!! Whoah!! Another dulcet-toned hurgling among the stacks of books!! Another who appreciates a good warbling moan to fill a room with melodic gargling. A friend, perhaps???

The Lil Guy frisks and skips from side to side on it's mismatched limbs- little bony legs skittering while meatier paws slapped heavily against the floor. A half dozen little noodly arms snake out from the skull of it's back, simultaneously helping to pull it along faster and reaching to take one of Leon's hands and shake it with three of it's own.

"Ghbragl!!" It gargles in introduction. "Rghjrkllghh!"

Formalities taken care of, it continues it's scramble, going up and over Leon's back to investigate for itself; pulling at spikes, grabbing at tendrils and poking at unusual eyes.

[plagas-bound]

His first instinct is to back away, because considering all the things he's seen in the Fog so far this could be dangerous... Despite how... Kinda cute it was? It just seems like an excitable little creature thing, even if it's odd little hands feel weird on his tough skin. The noise earns a head tilt and he's about to respond back when, hey!! It's already managed to crawl onto his back, and Leon hisses as it begins pulling on his spikes and the eyes shut in response to the jabbing.

He twirls around comically, tail smacking into things and knocking over books as he tries to grab the dredgey thing to keep it from playing on him like a jungle gym. "Hey, little guy-" roll credits, "Stop that!" Eventually, and with enough floundering around, the large mismatched claw on his back managed to scoop up the Dredge and hold it at a "safe" distance while he gives it a little glare.

This thing is admittedly silly, reminding Leon of a puppy that's eager to make new friends... And he can't be mad at that. Look at it, hurgling and gurgling over there. His expression softens. "How'd you even get here, past Wesker and Nemesis? If you snuck past em that's respectable in its own right."

[lilguydredge]

Being scooped is part of the package when you're just a li'l guy. So it takes this well enough at first, stretching out those rope little arms to try and pull itself upright and kicking it's little legs. When that doesn't work is when some temper starts to show, hurgling some complaints that become full on wails, ultimately leading it it's trump card whenever it gets stuck; it retreats into its skull-shell.

Head zoops in like a snail, wiggly arms and jabby legs follow after. The scythe arm and heavy paw squeeze in after with some impossible anatomical squish. It doesn't stop there as the skull itself seems to fold inwards into a pit of empty darkness that collapses upon itself with a puff of smoke.

A moment later a drawer in a desk shoots open and out trundles the tiny dredge, happy as can be and looking for more things to investigate.

[plagas-bound]

Watching as the little dredgling begins to panic over immobility concerns Leon for a second, about to let it go in fear of somehow hurting it when... What. Huh? Where'd it go? "Wait, I didn't mean to- ah shit..." He looks around for where this creature could've gone to, feeling guilty over it leaving in such a panic until a drawer opens and out rolls that same skull, and it seems....fine?

The killer slowly moves over to watch as tiny Dredge hobbles around making its noises, inspecting the skull for cracks from a distance and once seeing that everything is alright he decides to be more of a passive observer than anything. Not too close, though. His eyes are still slowly blinking open and looking around.

"Well aren't you just fascinating, huh?" He makes some soft chirps towards Lil Guy idly, like a sort of stim. Maybe that'll make up for the rude grabbing.

[sangelune]

The Xenomorph gives pause, looking down at the shorter creature before it. Not human. Not of its own kind either. Though seeing the other attempting communication - it seems mildly amused by @plagas-bound. It doesn't understand, knowing only its own kind. It eases itself lower, crouching in a resting position. It doesn't need to tower its full eight foot height, it often doesn't like to anyway.

Another low hiss passes it, though it's not aggressive. It's simply... communicative. It's elongated head tilts as it keeps attention on the other. Perhaps this is the closest it will get to its own kind, to filling that vacant space its kin filled before. It does want more - but with no Queen to serve, no hive to call home - it's quite alone.

It never considered the idea it wasn't comfortable with being alone until now. Until seeing something else so close yet so different from it. For once, a new emotion comes to it. Curiosity. This is no simple prey. The similarities are too there. It will not strike or hunt. Beyond that, the overwhelming force that took up the spot the Queen would have had in its head tells it to stay its murderous intention towards certain others. It is glad, in its own way, this one classifies as one it mustn't harm.

It moves calmly, taking to clambering up the nearby wall, before turning its head back to the other creature. The question is obvious in its actions - can you do this as well?

[plagas-bound]

It seems that even though Las Plagas can't get through to this creature, it still understands him in other ways, perhaps with body language instead of mental connection. The lack of hostility is noted and Leon sort of crouches down as well, not getting onto all fours even though that is technically something his body can do comfortably. Like a hound, able to sprint around trials if given enough space to do so and it's optimal. Otherwise back on twos.

Leon watches with a head tilt as the Xenomorph takes to the wall, looking back expectantly like a dog picking up a ball. Not really play per say, but it's spiritually similar, and with a soft series of clicks leaving his throat the former rookie follows suit. He's not sure how this works exactly outside of just being able to do it whenever he wants, not even needing to consciously think about it too much. Like walking.

Now he's joined the other on the wall, tail swaying side to side as he chirps with slightly dilated eyes. Las Plagas seems to have a curiosity of its own regarding this thing, and has decided it's one of its own regardless of the clear differences. Just has an issue responding back, and although that's not good for the sake of the Hivemind, nothing to get too worked up about.

He makes his way to the top of the wall and perches, looking down at the Xenomorph curiously. What's your deal, newcomer?

[plagas-bound]

It was in Leon's nature to conflict with Albert Wesker. The drive to bother this man to the point he'd pop a blood vessel came as easy as breathing, both due to their shared history and the parasite connected to his nerves fueling his fire with the territorial instinct to show the other who's boss. Even if Wesker had more experience than him and had attuned to his virus to where they were one in the same, Las Plagas came with its own unique perks that couldn't be ignored.

Such as Leon running up and around the walls of the police station as Wesker attempted to keep up, grinning to himself as the other failed to grasp at the tail lashing out behind himself. "You're not very good at this, are you?" The taunts are deliberate, because another boon given by his virus was the innate connection he shared with those also infected. Uroborus was created using it as a base, and so although complete and total control was out of the question, they could still get glimpses of thoughts and feelings from one another.

And Wesker was pissed.

"I get it, you're the Mastermind for a reason! All brains and no brawn. You're not the Chaser after all." And to give it an extra kick, he sends his thoughts out to Wesker as he turns a corner and hops off the wall, running on his two feet towards the meeting room. You're slipping up more often, I think I'm getting better at this.

The claw on his back juts out and catches the doorframe, propelling himself into the hall and leaving the meeting room in less time than it took him to send that message. It's exhilarating, to have power like this, and it gets him thinking back to Krauser. Power is a hell of a drug. He'd have loved it here, maybe. Poor bastard.

The thought is shaken off as Leon bounds up the stairs, although he isn't running as smoothly up these as the walls or floor. His anatomy isn't built for running up short and precise steps like this, and so for once in this entire chase Wesker has an opportunity to close the gap. But Leon is determined, claws scrambling up the steps as he feels his heart pounding in his ears.

@manufactoredxafterxdark

[sangelune]

"So I was sensing another." Wesker leans back, arms crossed, as he takes a cursory glance at @plagas-bound. "I would recommend you keep your hackles down. I am not here to start a fight with you. Unlike certain other mindless Tyrants." A quip directed to Nemesis - it's clear some bad blood is there. Not that Wesker will elaborate.

"I assume you weren't taken long after infection, if my hunch on this... Entity is correct." He stays, standing calmly. As if he doesn't know of Her. He does - he just refuses acknowledgement. There's a deep hatred in his veins toward such a thing existing - but that's neither here nor there.

"I'll put this simply for you. There is only one person who knows exactly what you're going through and how to best deal with it." And you're looking at him. It goes unspoken, but in his tone. "I can feel your existence, though I doubt you feel mine." His arm raises, allowing the black tendrils to wiggle around his arm. "Seeing as your plaga infection was a basis, Uroboros does in a way connect to you." He lets them slip away. "Other than that, the innate sense a Tyrant comes with - I can sense that way as well."

"I am going to be rather... aware of your existence. I would prefer to make it amicable for the two of us rather than hostile. Beating back the Nemesis gets tiresome." He shifts slightly. "With that said - I simply offer my knowledge of the course of infection and mutation, how to control it and wield it effectively. In return - I have little to preoccupy my mind with. I would like to study you. It is a fair and simple trade for you to make, benefiting us both."

[plagas-bound]

It had taken a lot of willpower for Leon not to immediately take out all his aggression on Wesker once they locked eyes at the top of the stairs in RPD, feeling an immediate hostility that was an unhealthy mix of Plagas being territorial and his own feelings on his former Captain. And he honestly expected the other to do the same, to engage in bloody brutality until one of them was forced to go through the tedious process of coming back from death here. A process Leon couldn't yet comprehend, and honestly didn't want to.

... but when Wesker motioned for them to talk in Iron's office, he was puzzled, surprised enough to actually change his attack plans and reluctantly follow inside with a grumble. As the other tyrant continued on and made his proposition, it left Leon unsure how to feel exactly. On one hand, unfortunately, Wesker was right. Not many people here could comprehend the struggle that followed viral infection like this, let alone the Plagas parasite, besides maybe Birkin... But the man never seemed in the mood for civilized conversation.

But on the other hand, he didn't like the idea of being studied like some sort of insect under a microscope. Is that really all Wesker wants? Research? There's gotta be a catch... Even if getting this parasite under control sounds like a bit of a dream come true. If he can control it he can finally sort out his own thoughts, feel less clouded and fuzzy all the time. Maybe he can reduce the harm he does to others here. Maybe he can finally stop turning a blind eye to it.

"What kind of studies are you looking to do, Wesker? Dissection? And bold of you to finally become amicable after all the bullshit you pulled back up top." Could you blame the man for not immediately trusting the guy who betrayed S.T.A.R.S and tried to kill his friends?

[plagas-bound]

Rp Starter ( @the-game-warden )

Jake thought he was getting used to going up against monsters. Especially lately, what with the inclusion of literal aliens and creatures like whatever the hell the Dredge was. Still, it was hard to get used to the newer killers.

Especially newer killers that looked familiar.

He was walking down a hall in RPD at the start of a trial, knife drawn and eyes open for any sign of movement, when he noticed someone standing in the library. All he saw at first was the vaguely-police uniform and blond hair.

“Leon?”

A voice calls his name, an attempt to pull his attention forwards. But he doesn't recognize it, and so he doesn't rouse himself from his dazed state and instead the body follows the voice with a soft chitter and hiss.

This is not Leon Kennedy in any familiar way to Jake, and is instead a twisted form with shredded limbs and tendrils squirming aggressively around him. What is this? Survivor. Has to be. The Hivemind snarls and steps forward, all eyes on Jake as he begins to pursue without much thought outside of this being another target to bring to their collective consciousness.

[the-game-warden]

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Jake immediately turned and ran without thinking, survival instincts momentarily superseding everything else even as questions raced through his mind.

Was that Leon? Another version of him? This had to be a killer, right? Everything about him screamed corrupted, from the strange sounds he made to the numerous eyes spread over his body. Not to mention the fucking tail, but that was almost an afterthought at this point.

Jake managed to duck into a side room and press himself against a wall, breathing fast and heavy and trying to bring his mind back into focus. Okay, new killer. Unfamiliar power set on a familiar face. He could figure this out…

He really hated going against these kinds of killers, though. What the hell was he meant to do to that with a knife?

[plagas-bound]

A howling screech followed as Leon attempted to pursue his target, eyes searching the hall that Jake ran through and stomped after on uneasy footing. His tail swished in almost agitation as it seems he's lost the target, the lack of scratch marks making tracking an absolute chore. There's a popping sound and the eerie crack of bones. If Jake takes a slight peek out he'd see more eyes grow to cover the man's body, searching as he takes a slower approach down the hallway.

Leon clears his throat and begins to speak in a deeper, almost layered voice. "Where'd you go?" More steps and he walks past the room Jake is in, tail trailing behind and gently clicking against the flooring. "I saw that knife. Is it for show?" The concept of a Game Warden wasn't familiar to him just yet, but equally as plausible all things considered. He was hit by a boot the other day, after all.

"You don't have to worry, I'm here to help you out, buddy. I need you to cooperate with me, and it'll all go smoothly." The quick shuffling of feet and Leon's attention snaps to the end of another hall, and his mouth goes agape in a hissing screech as he gets onto all four of his limbs and begins running down the hallway like a feral dog. The tail whips behind him and soon enough he's out of sight, and a survivor screams in the distance.

[the-game-warden]

Jake clutched at his chest as he waited for the sound of the killer to fade, finally chancing a look out into the hallway.

That did not sound like Leon. Or… it did. Too much like him with too much of not him in a way that made Jake’s skin crawl. Something was very, very wrong with this version of the survivor, and Jake didn’t like it at all.

Still, he had a job to do. Jake crept back out into the hall and followed the sound of the scream, knife ready to plunge into the Killer’s back the moment he got the chance.

Which was… hard to tell when, actually, given the number of fucking eyeballs staring directly at him when he rounded up behind the Killer.

No time to hesitate, then. Jake lunged forward and plunged the blade of his knife directly into one of those eyes, just to see if they counted as a weak point.

[plagas-bound]

The Hivemind had swiped at a survivor, said survivor having fled the scene while leaving a thick trail of blood behind. He was shaking the gore off his hand and readying himself to follow when his eyes caught something, the vague movement of someone behind himself. Before Leon could react a knife was plunged into one of his sockets, and the scream he let out was gut wrenching, aggressively trying to shake Jake away as an orange and black liquid dripped down the ruined eye socket.

Jake is slammed against the wall via Leon's shoulder, spines coming dangerously close to piercing into his face. It hisses and eyes the man before rolling its other shoulder and stabbing right into Knife with a large spine extending out from his arm. It's impossible to tell what happened from an outside point of view besides the obvious. But the point is left in Jake for a few seconds before releasing, Leon stumbling back and working on getting the knife out of himself.

That was an injector with Las Plagas, and in a matter of minutes Jake would begin feeling odd changes... But for now, that was just a weird extended hit. The knife is pulled out with a hiss and thrown to the floor, the Hivemind staring the other down and baring his teeth. The tail whips around and goes to try and down the man with a stab to the shoulder.

[plagas-bound]

Something nearby is hurgling and gurgling. (@lilguydredge)

Leon is in the middle of trying to figure out a place to sleep for himself, having torn up a bunch of books he considered not important and used their pages as an almost bedding. The urge to nest can be blamed almost entirely on the Plagas, some primal instinct fueling the need to craft someplace comfortable to rest. It's... Embarrassing, almost. But luckily he doesn't care about how Wesker feels, knows the Nemesis can't feel, and Birkin is caught up in his feelings and hardly explores the building. And so he feels safe enough to do this unorthodox thing, getting comfortable...

When he hears a strange noise to his left.

It's the territorial instinct that gets him on edge, tensing as he pokes his head around and tries to locate the strange sounds. It's when he nudges over a pile of books that he spots it, this... Thing. This weird thing that's hurgling at him. The harsh spikes and tentacles flare up in response and Leon gets closer to the ground, tail lashing out and thumping around.

... he makes chittering noises back.

[lilguydredge]

Whoah!!! Whoah!! Another dulcet-toned hurgling among the stacks of books!! Another who appreciates a good warbling moan to fill a room with melodic gargling. A friend, perhaps???

The Lil Guy frisks and skips from side to side on it's mismatched limbs- little bony legs skittering while meatier paws slapped heavily against the floor. A half dozen little noodly arms snake out from the skull of it's back, simultaneously helping to pull it along faster and reaching to take one of Leon's hands and shake it with three of it's own.

"Ghbragl!!" It gargles in introduction. "Rghjrkllghh!"

Formalities taken care of, it continues it's scramble, going up and over Leon's back to investigate for itself; pulling at spikes, grabbing at tendrils and poking at unusual eyes.

[plagas-bound]

His first instinct is to back away, because considering all the things he's seen in the Fog so far this could be dangerous... Despite how... Kinda cute it was? It just seems like an excitable little creature thing, even if it's odd little hands feel weird on his tough skin. The noise earns a head tilt and he's about to respond back when, hey!! It's already managed to crawl onto his back, and Leon hisses as it begins pulling on his spikes and the eyes shut in response to the jabbing.

He twirls around comically, tail smacking into things and knocking over books as he tries to grab the dredgey thing to keep it from playing on him like a jungle gym. "Hey, little guy-" roll credits, "Stop that!" Eventually, and with enough floundering around, the large mismatched claw on his back managed to scoop up the Dredge and hold it at a "safe" distance while he gives it a little glare.

This thing is admittedly silly, reminding Leon of a puppy that's eager to make new friends... And he can't be mad at that. Look at it, hurgling and gurgling over there. His expression softens. "How'd you even get here, past Wesker and Nemesis? If you snuck past em that's respectable in its own right."