thisavrou_log | All the scars on my body

Since learning Clu is on board, Yori's been looking for places she isn't noticeable. As long as she's wearing her uniform and hurries as though she has some idea what she's doing, she feels a little less vulnerable.

The medbay is still busy enough that she can duck in without bothering anyone. She's pretty sure if anything happened here, the Users or ship-admins or someone would disapprove. That makes it a good place to spend a few minutes here and there.

Also, she'll admit to both concern and curiosity about Sam Flynn. The User is apparently somehow related to Flynn, and he's unconscious on a ship where Clu lives.

She doesn't expect to meet him. But the tube that's come open is definitely the place where Alan-one had looked. Yori edges closer. "Are you Sam Flynn?" she asks.

Sam almost did a double take.

He had managed to get back into his uniform, despite feeling supremely vulnerable without his Gridsuit. The cryo fluid was going to need a proper washing off, though it was getting clammy as it dried. His disc was by his hand, no longer a secret.

The Lora of his childhood was before him. He stared for a moment, but blinked hard, and looked away at his own hands again. Not Lora, but a Program.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's me. I don't know your name, though?"

Here's hoping she didn't need the rundown on where she was, or what was going on. Though that would beg the question of what she was doing here either way.

It seemed odd how unlike Flynn he looked. Yori would have expected more similarity in people the same User created, like her own sisters if not an exact mirror like Clu.

"I'm Yori," she said, trying for a polite smile. It might have come out a little worried. "Arrived a little while ago, signed the contract and all." She hoped that wouldn't become a regret. "Pleased to meet you. Alan-one mentioned you were in...cryo."

Not stasis, a User variant. She felt more than a little skeptical of the claims the ship's admins had made. "Are you feeling okay?" Not, for instance, with any sudden need to claim new loyalties? Hard to know how to ask that one. She carefully avoided looking toward his disk.

Sam winced to himself. Alan. He was going to be pissed something bad happened to Sam - or more accurately that Sam didn't look after himself. Well, at least Alan was okay.

"Hopefully I wasn't in there for very long. I'd ask you what happened, but if you just got here I doubt you'd know."

Though since she kept saying 'Alan-one', Sam did give her a grim sort of look.

"Going out on a limb here, but I'm guessing you were written for the laser project at Encom first?"

Yori shrugs. "About a month, I heard." Was that long for Users? It was a very long time in-system, unless the system got shut down. "You'll have to ask someone else for the details." She was trying, but gathering data took time.

How strange to be recognized at a glance after all that time separated from any direct User contact, paying silent agreement to the MCP's claims they didn't exist. Until Tron's escape, and Flynn.

"Yes, I was," she answered. "I've heard a little about the Grid, but I don't remember ever being there." Yori shifted her weight, uncertain if that look had to do with things she already knew about or something new. Had something happened to the laser, or to Sam Flynn? "You know my User too?" she asked. "Could you tell me about her?"

Oh Yori. If only you knew.

Sam's father had 'borrowed' that laser, moved it to the basement of that old arcade and created the Grid that she was talking about. Sam had no recollection of any Programs to do with the Portal, either. Which was just as well, he supposed, it would be way too much power for one Program to have. Though that then begs the question of whether Clu had already done something to any Programs that were working specifically on the Portal before Sam ever got there.

"Uh, yeah. Actually she's my godmother."

Which probably means absolutely nothing to Yori. Sam winces to himself again, this time with a smirk.

"Sorry. User thing. It means if anything happened to my mother, she would do her best to be my mother, instead. My actual mother has been gone since I was really young, so she has done the best she can to help Alan raise me."

"Thank you for explaining," Yori says, uneasily fascinated and trying to piece that data into a form that makes sense. Since Sam Flynn isn't a program, surely this complex User relationship can't make him her brother. But something? She won't let him claim her as his program, even if her own User isn't here.

Her User's chosen family, whatever that means. Like Dumont befriended and taught ignorant young programs; maybe not an official status but important. "It's an honor to meet you in person," Yori decides is safest. "Has my User been a good...mother?"

She wants to ask why his mother is gone, but it sounds like a sensitive subject and none of her business. Surely as Lora's program, Yori has a right to hear about her own User.

Even if she has to admit to herself how frightened she is. For the first time, a program has a chance to gather proof of whether or not Lora really is the kind person Yori and the other programs of the same creator have always hoped between themselves she might be.

Sam was distinctly uncomfortable with that idea, and it showed. He waved at Yori with a more nervous smile.

"Yeah, let's not do that. I'm just Sam, no honor involved."

What had dad been teaching them? This weird pseudo-religious reverence matched Clu's attempt at chiding in his initial post. Not that Sam would say that.

"Uh…well, I don't really have a basis for comparison for your question. She worked in DC so she was gone a lot when I was a kid."

Sam shrugged, at a bit of a loss.

"She did get a job in LA again, and moved back eventually. I was about 12. So is she a good surrogate-mother? Yeah? I guess?"

Busy, but well-intentioned. That description fit Yori's picture of her User even better than she'd expected.

"She was gone a lot from our point of view as well." Yori laced her fingers together and stared at them, thinking of her sisters one by one. "To judge by Alan-one, she probably never knew how much her programs missed her. But even without knowing us she made us to help each other, and we did our best, which counts for something."

In the dark times of the MCP's rule, it hadn't seemed like enough. Out here, watching the doubt and confusion in which the Users seem to exist, Yori felt more at peace with her User than she'd ever expected.

She looked up at Flynn's son with a small but genuine smile. "Thank you, Sam. I don't want to delay you, but I hope you won't mind telling me more another time."

Sam returned that smile. Though his was more of a smirk.

"It's okay. It wouldn't be any big deal now, but I really want to get this stuff washed off."

Wrinkling his nose, Sam pushed up his sleeve, then wiped a palm down his arm. The leftover cryofluid was turning gummy as it dried. He managed to shake most of it off his hand.

"Whenever you want to talk again, just use your MID. It should work better, now that I'm awake."

Yes, the last bit was sarcasm. ~~The mapping function that tells you where people are might come in handy, too.~~

Stasis in-system didn't involve nearly as much stickiness, but Yori had come to accept that as standard to the User world. She was just grateful not to require so much washing herself anymore.

"I appreciate the permission." The words were dry humor, but Yori meant them. Sam Flynn had no right to give her orders here. Even so, by habit it would have been much more difficult to convince herself to contact the User without his stated approval.

Was there any tactful way to approach the other data she needed? Probably not. Yori crossed her arms, trying not to look quite as defensive as she felt. "Since I've run into you...any advice about Clu?"

How good was the medbay at defending their patients from recoding?

A good bit of Sam's sarcasm evaporated, then.

"Stay away from him as much as you can, and never ever let him see your disk. That's all I've got as far as advice, though. The rest is just common sense stuff of 'don't be alone with him if you can help it', that kind of thing."

Common sense, but reassuring to hear. At least the medbay staff have done their task well.

Yori nods rueful agreement to the list of cautions. "I certainly intend to try." There are far more distractions here; it might keep her safer, or it might get her in trouble when she inevitably gets tangled in something where Clu can notice.

"Keep safe yourself," Yori dares command the User. If her own programmer looked after him, he's definitely under Yori's protection, useless as that may be.

The halls of the ship are eerie enough to walk through when there’s light. Now, dimmed to almost complete darkness, the Moira feels half-dead. Alan had been working in the science department when the lights flickered out, though concern now has him headed towards the medbay. Is this a planned loss of power? Or has something gone wrong? Alan’s first thought had been to check the medbay -- they likely have some kind of backup generator for the machines there in a situation like this, but with Sam still in cryo, Alan has to be sure.

He isn’t expecting to see his godson walking the halls as well.

At first, he says nothing, convinced he must be seeing things. It’s dark enough that Alan could easily mistake another crewmember for Sam, especially given how worried he’s been for him lately. But as he walks closer, it becomes clear that there is no mistake. Shock and almost overwhelming relief stop Alan in his tracks -- after weeks of waiting and checking and hounding the medbay staff for any kind of prognosis, Sam’s finally out of cryo. Alan had told himself that it was only a matter of time, but as days had turned into weeks, even he had trouble turning away the fear that something had gone wrong. Now that Sam is here and seemingly unharmed, Alan can finally put that fear to rest.

“Sam,” Alan says, a smile on his face as he approaches, “You’re back.” But relieved as he is, even his smile falters when he notices what Sam’s holding in his hand: a disk, its central ring glowing white against the darkness.

Sam has noticed the dimmed hallways already, but he didn't stick around to see if the lack of power was affecting Med Bay. Instead he was going to get that shower, post haste, so he could replace the Gridsuit and disk with it.

It's a bit of serendipity that has him running into Alan in the hall. He was relieved the other looked to be okay…but as soon as that smile started to falter, Sam had the irrational urge to put the disk behind his back. He didn't, of course, but he glanced between Alan's expression and the disk, then back.

"…well I was gonna say it's good to see you're okay, but this is awkward."

A slight, harried smile at that. “A little bit, yes.” He’s still glad to see Sam. Relieved beyond measure, really. But this is… well, it complicates things.

“How long have you had it?” he asks. Sam could’ve found himself with it after his last jump into the Grid through Amissis-Re’s Ingress, like Frisk and Asriel. It’s even possible he’s had it the whole time he was here, if the Moira’s Ingress had pulled him directly out of the Grid beforehand. Before Clu showed up, either way.

Sam sighed, closing his eyes briefly. Well Clu had seen him using a disk already, then copied the whole thing up to that point. No one other than Rinzler and Peggy knew about it on the Moira. Now the jig was up if Alan found out.

"I've always had it. No one knew if I wore my uniform over top."

Meaning he had it before Clu ever showed up, because he did come straight from the Grid.

At least he’s been keeping it hidden, though that much was already obvious.

“Are you sure no one else knows?” Alan asks. Likely Clu’s the only one who poses a direct threat, but it’s still not safe having knowledge of that kind of a liability floating around with the admin here.

Sam shrugged, because here's the rub;

"Only two people have seen it. Peggy…"

Sam knew that Alan was protective but if this was going to be a problem, then Sam had the tiniest nagging sense of doubt that if Alan was feeling enough guilt, he might start trying to weigh the lesser of two evils.

"…and Rinzler."

So now you can see why he was panicking so bad when he saw Clu on the roster.

The first name is unfamiliar and gets filed away as something to possibly follow up on later. The second name? Not so much.

“Oh.” It’s a new complication added to an already complicated situation, one with stakes Alan barely even wants to fathom. He doesn’t know if Rinzler has reason to supply that kind of information unprompted, but if Clu were to ask... things could become very dangerous, very quickly.

“You could have told me,” Alan says, not even bothering to hide the reproach in his voice. “I know you don’t like talking about what happened on the Grid, but this… keeping this kind of secret only puts you in more danger.”

And there it was again. The Grid. Alan had already gotten the worst, and not in a very nice way since Sam had been actively using words as weapons. The idea that Sam hadn't mentioned his disk because he 'didn't like talking about the Grid' really hit him the wrong way somehow. The disk didn't have anything to do with a dumb dislike. He'd been doing just fine on keeping it hidden, anyway.

"The fewer people that know the better. By keeping it secret I kept that number really small. What would you have done about it? What could you have done if you knew?"

Sam didn't say anything about it, but he didn't have to. The ghost of the past was still there. The recode, and Alan essentially telling everyone, including Sam, that he had taken the disk by force. Sam had staunchly defended him, too. Certain that Alan couldn't have done that…but then Alan said he had, and some of Sam's trust was damaged. Maybe more than Sam even knew, himself.

Edited (random timestamp deletion) 2016-09-02 01:40 (UTC)

Alan shakes his head, frustration creeping into his tone. “I don’t know. Maybe I could’ve talked to Rinzler. Had him tell me if Clu was asking the wrong questions. At least we would’ve known if Clu found out from him.” It’s not much, but it’s something. And even that much warning could mean the difference between Sam keeping his disk safe from Clu and…

God, Alan doesn’t even want to think about the alternative.

“Even if I couldn’t have done anything, if Clu had found out… If something had happened, I wouldn’t have had any way of knowing. Not until it was too late.” There’s old hurt there and Alan winces saying it. It’s one thing to lose someone and quite another to lose them without ever understanding why -- and Alan has learned that lesson thoroughly enough for one lifetime.

“Is that the only reason you didn’t tell me? Because you didn’t think I could help?”

It had been weird, not having Sam around. She had gotten used to his presence as one of her roommates, so with him being in cryo for so long, it felt almost empty, even though it wasn't.

She checked on him as often as she could, just like she had for Steve, hoping and waiting that he'd wake up soon. But it seemed like he never would, as more and more time passed.

So imagine her surprise when she entered the Medbay, found the cryotube empty, and a very much awake Sam dressed and getting ready to exit the room.

"You worried me sick, you know." There's a hint of frustration in her voice as she places her hands on her hips. But her face softens only a moment later and her hands quickly fall to her sides. She certainly doesn't blame him, it wasn't his fault this happened. Sitting and waiting had always been one of the hardest things for her, and was only made worse when it involved being unable to do anything for those she cared about.

"I'm glad you're awake, Sam."

Sam was so relived that it was Peggy (and not somebody otherwise irritated with him) he could have kissed her. As it was, things like kisses, hugs, and other such shows of affection would have to wait until he got a shower. He couldn't help smiling though.

"They told me I had a glass lung, so I'm glad I'm awake too."

Since, y'know, he may not have been. Sam still felt vulnerable without his Gridsuit, but he needed to wash off this cryo fluid before he replaced it. Peggy had only seen his Gridsuit the one time, and never knew he always wore it under his uniform. Having his unlit disk in hand must look odd since he seemed to be wearing his uniform like always.. He did glance at the dimmed lights.

"What happened? Last thing I remember the Moira was being boarded."

She would hug him, too, but after being in cryo herself, she knows how disgusting it feels right after waking.

"I had glass hands. You really missed out." And she couldn't be happier that phase was over. At least, for most everyone. It seemed a small few still exhibited those symptoms and she hoped they'd find an answer for them soon.

"What hasn't happened?" She scoffs, reflecting over the last month. It felt like ages ago when that battle happened. Sam was fortunate he slept through it all.

"The negotiations with the Caducans went to hell in a hand basket, half the crew was turned to glass, and then we got transported to another part of the galaxy, where a portion of the crew was split from us and sold into slavery."

Sam's brows nearly hit his hairline.

"What? Holy cow. Maybe I was actually better off getting put out of commission early on."

He couldn't help blanching a little at the thought of ending up in space, only to be enslaved and hauled off to work for…someone. He wasn't waiting to be released from Med Bay after his unorthodox stay. Sam waved Peggy after him, but he was getting that shower.

"Is there any way to get them out? Or…I dunno, "free" them, at least."

"You were definitely fortunately to miss out."

Peggy's sure Sam would have gladly helped, but she's also glad he was saved from getting hurt. Far too many people didn't come out of all this unscathed.

When he gestured for her to follow, she did without delay, continuing to catch him up as they walked.

"Yes, of course. We mounted a rescue. It took time, given the gravity of the place they were taken, but we saved all of the missing crew. Unfortunately a few were a little worse for wear."

They had to go about the rescue with stealth and patience. She wished they could have stormed in and saved everyone immediately, but they all would have been captured if they had tried. She just hated what so many had to go through while they waited.

The gravity? Like, did she mean the force of gravity, or the seriousness? Sam suspected the first. Part of why he'd only stuck a toe in the whole pool of ideas that was theoretical physics was the mindbending weirdness of what gravity does to time.

Then Sam got outside the Med Bay, and saw the state of the lights in the hallway. That gave him pause. And he stopped in his tracks to look up then down the all, frowning harder.

"…uh…I guess the ship got hit harder after I was out. Is that why the lights are like that?"

One would think about five months of this, she would realize how confusing a word like that would be here. She meant the seriousness and scope of the situation they had faced, not that the actual gravity was a problem. She was so used to using it in a time where that wasn't even an issue.

Peggy paused when he did, knowing exactly what got his attention. This was a whole other ordeal in itself.

"Not exactly. We did suffer damage after the battle, but this isn't from that." She hesitates briefly, before she continues into what she knows is going to be a lot to process.

"When the wave of new arrivals came, so did the original captains of the ship. The ones who ran it, before our tenure. They took control of the ship and are now in charge once more. They deemed it necessary to run in low-power mode, to help prolong our available resources." And she's not happy about any of this.

Actually 'a lot to process' is an understatement. A vast understatement. Sam does resume walking, though slower, in the general direction of Moro #12.

"I knew the 'captains' we were dealing with didn't know what they were doing. I'm betting the new ones are being just as cryptic. "

Sam made a face of intense dislike at the idea.

"While I get rationing, and I think it's a good idea in theory, running on low power is not a good idea. There's AI types that depend on that power to survive."

The elevators were still running, at least. Sam waited for Peggy, then hit the button.

"I don't suppose these original captains are telling what happened to the original crew?"

"Naturally. They did address the ship when they took command. Be sure to look for it." She's sure it would interest him. It had her. Did it change how she felt about the sudden swap? Not one bit.

"From my understanding, they've made sure areas requiring power have what they need. I would hope they would make the same concessions for those whose lives depends on said power." She would hope, anyway.

"They fled, from the same creature that attacked the crew a few months before my arrival." She doesn't know if he was here when Ploiatos got free, but she's definitely heard about it. Especially since the arrival of the new captains.

Actually those attacks had been right before Sam had ended up here. He still nodded grimly without looking at Peggy.

"Tipota died the last time. She had been one of the old captains. I had a bad feeling we hadn't heard the last of what killed her."

The elevator stopped and Sam got out. He wasn't wasting any time with looking for the room.

Peggy had been curious if Sam would have more of an insight on the events that occurred. Even if he had arrived shortly after, it would have been closer to the events than she was.

"And with it still on the ship with us, I fear it won't be." So far, Ploiatos seemed contained, but what if something happened again and he escaped? What if more people were hurt? While she understood the captain's desire to get him back to their home planet to determine what happened to him, she still worried what that would mean for them on the ship now.

"What can you tell me about what happened?" She asks as she opens the door to their room. While she's curious, she can also tell how much he wants that shower, and she nods to the bathroom door.

"Go ahead and clean up. My questions can wait."

First Alan, then Sam. Tron hadn't found out about Sam's... injury, he wouldn't call it more than that... until after Alan's death, and the crushing weight of his own failure became almost too much to bear. He couldn't protect his own User, nor the son of Flynn...

But Alan had returned, and Sam would as well, Tron was reassured. The days stretched on even longer than expected, though, and Tron's hope dwindled each time he checked the medbay and the cryotubes.

This time, though, the tube was open as Tron stepped through the door, and Sam was sitting up, looking confused. "Sam!" Smiling despite the way it pulled on the glass scars across his face, Tron crossed the medbay in a few long strides, relieved to see the young User. "Welcome back!"

Sam was making a face at the leftover cryo-fluid on him. His scarring had been largely internal, which is why it took so long for it to heal while he was held in stasis. He had some remark about not going anywhere when he finally looked up, and saw Tron's face.

That remark died a swift death.

"…holy shit. What happened?"

Tron's hand starts to come up, self-consciously ready to cover his face before he makes an effort to pull it away.

"Difficult to explain. Most are assuming a malfunction with the Ingress has merged our ship with that of the Caducans." He hesitates, knowing the injuries are what Sam was really asking about. "The... glass also merged with the ship's crew in various ways. These scars are duplicates of ones I had in the past." He gives a slight half-smile. "Ironically, these are more stable than the ones I had before. I am not in danger of destabilizing and derezzing, at the moment."

Eager to change the subject, he looks over Sam, noting that he seems to be back in good condition. "How are you feeling?"

Sam blanched a bit at hearing that. It was good wasn't in danger of derezz now, sure, but…

"Are they…Are they still tangled up with our Ingress?"

If their Ingress was rendered unusable and there was some sort of horrible dimensional accidental clusterfuck going on, Sam wasn't sure what to think.

Tron shakes his head, but uncertainty shows in his expression. "No, but... there have been some irregularities in the Ingress. I'm not certain of all the details, as I am not one of the ones they've had working on it." He resists the urge to cover the scars on his face again, acutely aware of how Sam is still looking at him.

"Some of the ship and crew have gone back to normal. Others still have things like this on our bodies. I don't know if it's in my code or not." He hasn't had the chance to have Alan-1 look at it... and maybe he's been avoiding him a bit, still.

It's hard not to look. As soon as Tron mentions he isn't sure if the marks have affected his code, Sam frowns in confusion.

"Hasn't Alan said? If you're not dealing with any degradation I don't know why it stayed, though."

Remember Sam hasn't been around for the general avoidance.

"Alan-1 hasn't looked to see if it's integrated with my code," Tron replies simply. "I... haven't had the chance to ask him to look. It wasn't a pressing matter." Tron realizes quickly that Sam wouldn't know that Alan died during the attack... that won't be something easy to break, and Tron is grateful, momentarily, that Sam didn't have to experience the pain of losing Alan, even temporarily.

Stepping closer, Tron hands Sam a towel from a nearby stand, realizing he still hasn't even managed to get cleaned off from the cryo-tank yet. "But we're talking about me and you've only just come back." Deflect, change the subject, good plan. "Do you need anything? Are you feeling all right?"

"I feel fine."

Sam sees what you did there, sir. He's been making an art out of evasion for years now, and he definitely recognized it in Tron. He did take the offered towel , but looked again at the Program a little more critically. He didn't want to put Tron on the spot but knew there was more to this than he was saying. If an entire month went by and Tron 'didn't have occasion to' ask Alan to look at his disk it would only mean that Tron wouldn't want Alan to look at his disk. Given what had happened with Rinzler that wasn't too surprising, so Sam assumed it must be that.

Without looking at Tron, Sam dried off his ears.

"I could take a look. I mean, you know, if you want."

All the scars on my body

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HAHA so I thought this was an old notif and it got deleted sob

no worries!

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