And then came an understanding. This was not himself. This was the virus, the Infection looking through his eyes. He was already gone, a husk, a part of the collective. The legacy.
And then there was dissonance within his thoughts. That which was the virus and that which had comprised the man named Bing resonated out of sync. He wasn't done yet! The memories weren't complete!
Further and further he pulled. Something tore, and...
He woke up, and he knew that he wasn't the same as he had been, and this scared him. His memories had been absorbed by the legacy, and this reality, this version of him had lost a coin toss. He had no body! Anger filled him when he thought that, somewhere out there, perhaps long dead, was a Bing who'd had the use of his body. His body!
The formless man railed, and around him, something responded. Vines wrapped around the shape of his memories, forming fists to pound the floor, a mouth to snarl in rage and loss, and legs so he could move. Bing paused, anger lessening when he realized he'd been given something new.
He could make this work.
He clung to the vines, and they obeyed him, solidifying his form. Still not human, but at least something. He walked forward, stumbling. The vines made for an ill-fitting new skin. He needed to find his own body! It was somewhere out there, beyond this green corridor.
He came upon something, a lump covered in vines, and felt his hopes rise. Kneeling awkwardly beside it, he brushed his vines against it, communicating with them. A few pulled back, revealing a face far from human, but familiar.
He knew this one! He thought she'd been a dream, but apparently not. She'd dragged him down the highway, first in this form, and then in a smaller form. Protected him. Bing felt bitter disappointment that it wasn't his body, and the vines formed wicked thorns, sensing his wish to tear and rend. But he didn't. He shouldn't do that. She'd saved him, without knowing who he was. He didn't know her reasons, but he owed her a debt.
The thorns retracted, and he brushed the rest of the vines covering her body. They obeyed, pulling away, releasing the strange girl. Bing picked her up in his vines, coiling her in a much gentler embrace. If she stayed here, she'd lose herself too. He'd get her out. He walked away from where he felt the most cohesive, and as he walked, he increasingly felt like a child wearing his Father's clothes. Trying to keep himself together, and support the gray girl, he stumbled forward. He could see something. A fog, figures within it. He commanded the vines forward, hold her out to them, get her away. And then he had to retreat before he unraveled completely. He would not lose this body, too! But as he did, he saw the figures take her from his vines. She disappeared into the fog.
Don't ever say I didn't do anything for ya.
He returned to the center, feeling the vines come back under his control, and realized this was the best he could hope for now. His core would eventually return to the legacy, but he would hold onto himself for as long as he could.
OOC
Character's name: Bing Bonhomme
Character's faction: Prison
Character's journal link: Here
Character's survival stats: View
BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER A great hulking mass of vines, usually resembling Bing as a human, but sometimes growing extra limbs, claws, or a tail when he forgets himself.
