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thisavrou_log2016-08-06 09:00 pm
a_perfect_end) wrote in thisavrou_log2016-08-06 09:00 pm
Entry tags:
you've never had a friend like me;
Who: Clu and Alan Bradley
When: After the beatdown, and soon enough after the elevator. (Pay attention to the warnings on those threads.)
Where: On the MID, then outside Alan's room, then inside it whether Alan wants visitors or not.
What: Clu knows two things: Rinzler's gone, and Nihlus has the disc. Time to callan adult Alan-1.
Warnings: Clu is a walking talking warning tag; psychological issues; broad discussion of various levels and types of abuse; are computers even people; lethal withering contempt on all sides. Charming fun for the whole family with two of your favorite Disney characters!
The sick stab of miscalculation jolted his frame, worse than the hot sync that had put most of his chest back where it should be, worse than the endless amber scroll of ERROR screaming down his MID; worse than anything in a long, long time.
Clu was wrong. Twice and twice and he never--it's different here; the test was asinine and yielded no data in the bargain, and then.
He'd. He never should have. He'd done so many things he never should have, but...
Rinzler should be able to rely on him, in this strange place, to look to his Programmer for guidance. He shouldn't need to run from him like this.
Of course he had; anybody would. Sooner or later, everybody did.
Didn't matter.
He finally knew who had the disc. That didn't matter, either, except insofar as all resources converged on protecting Rinzler, now that Clu finally knew who had him by the short stack.
He sure as glitched Bits never would have done this otherwise.
Clu turned his wrist and let out a breath he manifestly did not need before punching redial 009.
This will work. It has to work.
Pick up the phone, pick it up, pick it up, pick it up, pick it up...
When: After the beatdown, and soon enough after the elevator. (Pay attention to the warnings on those threads.)
Where: On the MID, then outside Alan's room, then inside it whether Alan wants visitors or not.
What: Clu knows two things: Rinzler's gone, and Nihlus has the disc. Time to call
Warnings: Clu is a walking talking warning tag; psychological issues; broad discussion of various levels and types of abuse; are computers even people; lethal withering contempt on all sides. Charming fun for the whole family with two of your favorite Disney characters!
The sick stab of miscalculation jolted his frame, worse than the hot sync that had put most of his chest back where it should be, worse than the endless amber scroll of ERROR screaming down his MID; worse than anything in a long, long time.
Clu was wrong. Twice and twice and he never--it's different here; the test was asinine and yielded no data in the bargain, and then.
He'd. He never should have. He'd done so many things he never should have, but...
Rinzler should be able to rely on him, in this strange place, to look to his Programmer for guidance. He shouldn't need to run from him like this.
Of course he had; anybody would. Sooner or later, everybody did.
Didn't matter.
He finally knew who had the disc. That didn't matter, either, except insofar as all resources converged on protecting Rinzler, now that Clu finally knew who had him by the short stack.
He sure as glitched Bits never would have done this otherwise.
Clu turned his wrist and let out a breath he manifestly did not need before punching redial 009.
This will work. It has to work.
Pick up the phone, pick it up, pick it up, pick it up, pick it up...
no subject
Alan stares at the screen for a tense moment, anger and fear urging him to answer the call and cancel it in equal measure. But whether Clu is calling to gloat or explain or threaten, this isn’t about Alan, and the need to know that Rinzler is safe (or hurt more than he already was or derezzed or recoded) overrides any reluctance on his part.
He picks up the call with the push of a button and waits. He’s not going to give anything away until he knows exactly what Clu's purpose is and, half-sick with loathing, he isn't going to ask what the program wants.
no subject
Who cares if they're speaking right now? This is so, so much more important than whether he's on some old guy's glitchlist.
This is for Rinzler. He can do this.
It is, literally and categorically, the least he can do. But that feeling is an old one, easily pushed down.
"He's hurt." It's gritty, harsh with feedback; it crackles when he coughs. "He's hurt and he's run, and I know where to, but I'm gonna need your help."
He sounds so excited by the prospect that he could literally just die.
no subject
“Now you’re upset that he’s hurt?” Alan asks, and that's what angers him more than Clu’s words ever could; Clu actually sounds upset, voice fractured and rough with static and Alan doesn’t know what possibility is worse: that the agitation in Clu’s voice isn’t genuine or that it is.
“You forgot, didn’t you? You-- ‘saw red’ again and forgot you couldn’t just patch him up when you were done like you did on the Grid.” And God knows how many times this had happened before for Clu to have lashed out without a shred of forethought as to the consequences because there were no consequences before. At least, not like this. There’s a short exhale of what might be laughter in the loosest sense of the word and when Alan speaks again, the words are so edged with disgust, they border on mockery. “This must be so difficult for you.”
He can guess what Clu wants. He also knows that he couldn’t help him even if he wanted to. “I don’t have Rinzler’s disk. And I don’t know who has it.” Which means he’s just as powerless to help Rinzler as Clu is.
no subject
Clu stands, and it sizzles down his legs--too long motionless on his bunk, waiting for the slow, steady gutter of gold looping from the crater in his neck to stop while the edit completed.
It's not done--he's threaded through with tiny bright cracks of light like a vase taped back together by kids who got caught playing baseball in the house, glittering new and frail, still fragile from the shoulders up.
He'd left Rinzler just for minutes, just to quiet the tactical routines that screamed incomplete; objective failed; while he quite literally got his head on straight. After all, nothing stopped him from editing himself, and strictly speaking he didn't need Rinzler's disc for basic proxy triage.
Besides. Even without a disc, he had privileges that nobody else but Flynn had, and he could have done something,
he couldn't have done anything--But it hadn't mattered, because Rinzler was gone. Of course Rinzler ran. Hadn't his own User? It's too much like before.
He'd fought down a wild urge to reach into his own throat and just pull, end the game for good, and called Alan instead, because Rinzler was still counting on him.
And if he can't do anything perfect, it is damn well time to try and do something right. So Clu stands and listens, quiet, soundlessly testing the limits of recent reconstruction.
"Who cares if I'm upset?" He doesn't make tears, and therefore can't sob, and therefore absolutely did not, just now. "This is my fault."
A long hiss of air, both out of frustration and testing for fracture. If he goes to pieces now, they'll never get to Rinzler in time.
"I--no, no, you still don't..."
The mockery, the censure from his Maker's friend aches but it's nothing less than he deserves, so what's the difference. What is he supposed to say? It just happened; he pushed me; had it coming; what else was I supposed to do; and it sounded repellent, even to him, even just in his head.
He stared down at his wrist like it would solve anything for several horrible, wasted seconds.
"You're right." Pause. "I'm coming over."
no subject
But even if it’s not enough (and it never would be after everything Clu has done), it at least stays Alan from continuing with his accusations. Clu knows what he did. It won’t change anything, but there’s no delusion for Alan to correct now.
Except one.
“Clu. I don’t. Have. His disk.” Said slowly and precisely this time because apparently the program didn’t fully process it the first time. It feels like it should be obvious. If Alan had the disk, does Clu really think Rinzler would still be in the state he left him?
no subject
Insisting on the familiar was a disaster. One he'd made.
Rinzler was something else, had always been held together by a desperate wish and sheer resolve. Only, now the valence of that has changed, and his behavior has changed--he is keeping secrets, he found a way to do it--and it's terrifying, but it's not a surprise.
Clu knows what it means. It's the only thing it's ever meant. Entropy exists: perfection tends to decay, to imperfection, and it must be maintained, or it will cease to exist. It will slip away.
Anyone with a choice? Left.
"...I know that." With a soft sine wave hum, slowly. Perhaps Bradley requires smaller words. "I know who does."
He's already moving. They must hurry.
no subject
Whatever reason Clu has for including him in this, if it means the admin won’t be accessing Rinzler’s code alone, Alan’s not inclined to give him reason to rethink his plan.
“I’m in Moro 004.” Alan’s voice is still wary and terse, but given their previous interactions? It’s the closest thing to invitation Clu’s likely to get.
no subject
It's simple logic: if Nihlus can wrestle the discs off Rinzler, he can wipe the floor with Clu.
Bradley is silent, and Clu's contingency hovers between points: if he refuses, the likelihood Clu will walk away with Rinzler's disc is less than eight percent, and Rinzler will expire for want of care.
However, odds are much greater that Nihlus may be persuaded to surrender the disc to someone else. To a fellow organic. To an organic with a stake in Rinzler's welfare--who better than Alan-1 himself?
There's a huff of static, a pop of breath. "I know that."
He will never use that word, please, not with any organic, ever again. In its place, he knocks swift and hard on the door.
no subject
He walks to the door, pushing the image of a gold-lit disk waiting for him out of his mind. If Clu wanted him dead, he'd have no reason to call ahead, even to lie. And if this is a chance to see Rinzler repaired without surrendering his code to Clu, then it's not an opportunity Alan can afford to ignore, personal risk be damned.
He opens the door with no further hesitation. Clu's presence in the threshold is one part utterly unsurprising and one part jarring in the extreme. This is the first time Alan's seen him face-to-face and the way his own mind wants to jump immediately, desperately to Flynn is even harder to ignore. Still, the look he gives Clu is frigid even for them.
“Who has it?” No matter what Clu's plan involves, that much Alan needs to know.
no subject
The look on Alan's face is not one he's seen in a long time, a flashbulb of recognition made savage by the cold and total disregard that shutters it in.
It's the least he deserves, and he puts it aside, pushing through the door leading with his head and shoulders. He can be dismissed, but he won't be denied.
Rinzler needs them. Arguing can come later.
"Big and tall. Real efficient guy." Answering without answering. "...You need me, and there isn't much time."
no subject
“The only thing I need from you is a name." Clu had clearly done his research. Even if he doesn’t know the specifics of what Alan had done to Rinzler’s code, he must know he’s accessed it before. All Alan needs is the location of Rinzler’s disk and he can repair the damage himself.
Not that he expects Clu to allow such circumstances out of hand. If everything he knows about Alan’s first attempt at ‘repair’ comes from the network, then he has just as much reason to mistrust leaving Alan alone with Rinzler’s disk as Alan has towards him. But Alan has some degree of leverage now and if he can use it to prevent Clu doing any more damage than he already has, he’ll take his chances.
“You’ve already done enough,” he says, voice cold and eyes watchful for reaction. “There’s no reason for you to be involved any further.” That Clu is distraught and maybe even guilty is better than Alan expected of him -- but if it means keeping him away from Rinzler’s code, Alan’s willing to try and twist his remorse against him.
no subject
"Wh--" Oh. Of course Alan would try to cut him out of it. Not only is it exactly what Clu would have done if there were the slightest choice, it's what Users do.
He stops moving altogether. He holds very still, realization looping through the queue and spitting out the next inanity: "I see."
All he wants is a name?
No. That can't happen, Clu can't allow that, and he has words ready for this. He has a redirect queued. He'd already worked it out on the way over here, already prepared the perfectly rational argument that if I cannot defeat Nihlus, you certainly can't. You've already died once.
Except, Alan is still talking, drawing a neat, ugly, entirely accurate diagram of the situation. The truth carves through him like hot wire. He doesn't have to move at all--his circuits give him away, almost graceful in their meltdown, guttering gold and black like moths bursting to death on the inside of a lantern.
...This is his fault. It is. And no one needs him for anything. No one has any use for him.
Except Rinzler.
"How well do you really know him?" It's sharp, too high, reverb-harsh like a cat yowling from far down a drain pipe. "He flipped, man, clean blue. Do you even understand what kind of a page fault that is?"
Of course he doesn't. Nothing Clu has gleaned of the great Alan-1's prior exploits via the network suggests it in the slightest. Rinzler is a problem to him, something to crack open and solve.
It's a desire Clu fully appreciates, in ways Alan just as clearly finds repellent--but for Alan the need is a simple one, easily addressed by sheer and total removal. By wiping him and starting over.
Two could play that game.
"And just what do you think Rinzler will do, in the grip of a stranger, out of his mind with pain and fear?" It's easy to leer, to pull his face tense and sharp, hungry with the urge to correct it already. "Further delay is unwise."
in case of stubbornness, play the "what if they try fixing him THEMSELF" card
“Because you provoked him,” Alan says, and though his voice is all brusque certainty, his mind is racing. Alan has seen Rinzler’s circuits flicker blue before, but Clu’s frenzied tone tells him that this is something more -- an actual, full shift, the same Tron had described but in the opposite direction. The catalyst fits too: Tron had said it had only ever happened while fighting.
“If you keep pushing him, you’ll only risk it happening again." There's no satisfaction in his statement -- he knows what happened on the Grid and he knows it isn't an idle warning. Perhaps Clu knows as well. He's spoken to Tron; it wouldn't be difficult to figure out that there's been at least one time when the change wasn't temporary.
“You don’t--” Understand is the word Alan bites off at the last second, thinking better of it even through his anger at the admin’s words. Rinzler wouldn’t turn over his code to someone he didn’t trust, but if Clu thinks that Rinzler is the victim rather than the perpetrator, the program’s likely safer for it.
“If whoever has his disk wanted to hurt him, they could’ve done it already.” ’And you already beat them to it,’ Alan manages to not say aloud.
“You’re the only one in the way.”
Alan doesn’t know that. With his reputation on the ship, he can’t say with certainty that anyone would allow him access. But for all that Rinzler’s ally is an unknown quantity, they’re still one he’d rather deal with than Clu.
His tone changes and if it’s not any softer than before, it’s at least more controlled. Practical. “If you just tell me who they are, this could be over today.”
to piss a program right off, press one. available options are:
"It can't happen again, he can't exist as Tron." Numbly: "There are failsafes in place, or there were. If he shatters completely..."
Clu's head whips around for that unfinished half a sentence--full circle, like an owl or a corpse.
"I don't what?" Soft, deliberate, with heavy steps forward on each word. "I don't understand? Y'know, you really are all the same."
It's a hard, high sneer, but in a different register--one that used to ring off the sides of tacky cubicle walls. "Out of the way, Clu; let it alone, Clu; how many times am I gonna tell you, Clu."
Alan couldn't reach the door now even if he tried.
"I understand plenty. Rinzler is dying in enemy hands and you're just gonna let it happen."
THIS IS SO LATE, FORGIVE ME D:
Alan can’t reach the door now, but he’s not thinking of running. He’s tired of Clu’s accusations. He’s tired of Clu believing them. “What do you think this is? Do you think I’m trying to keep you away from him because I want to see him hurt?” His voice is unreservedly furious now. Clu is only here because he had damaged Rinzler. Not just damaged, but jeopardized the program’s very existence. And he still doesn’t get it. It’s not just anger in his voice, but sheer, exhausted exasperation.
“I’m trying to protect him from you.”