notglitching: (red - step away from the window)
Rinzler / Tron ([personal profile] notglitching) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log2017-06-27 11:39 am

Follow the sunlight down

Who: Closed to the Tron-Undertale Trainwreck Cast & Friends
When: June 24, shortly before the player plot ends
Where: The Center for Created Oversight and Affairs (Earth 91c)
What: Rinzler and Alan get in trouble; everyone else gets them out. With worse trouble. And frisbees that are brains that might be bombs?
Warnings: Mindscrew references for pretty near everyone. Personhood issues. VIOLENCE AND FRIENDSHIP, which are strangely inextricable.

"Multiple injured. One dead. In a world priding itself on peace and plenty, a utopia where Creators and Created have flourished together for centuries, the incident is horrifying to the extreme. Unthinkable that a Created would commit this kind of violence. Terrifying, that it isn't the first time. Eastgate City has been shaken since the attack at the rally, and to have another case of bloodshed so soon...

It truly is fortunate, that the matter has been closed.

Two nights ago, visiting Creator Alan Bradley was taken into custody following an outbreak of violence outside a local bar. Witnesses reported that Bradley's program initiated an unprovoked assault on passerby attempting conversation, agitating a child on the scene to join the fight as well. Though the child was initially believed to be responsible for the glitched program, Bradley proved able to control it on arrival—though not before his negligence resulted in a death."
The news goes on. It lists Ingress records and testimonials, identifying Alan Bradley as an offworld programmer clearly responsible for his creation's faults. A few sources even mention his effort to send away the program, and speculate darkly about what for. Not that it matters. Not long after the initial reports leaked, full of shock and rage and calls for retribution, Bradley's creation surrendered to the CCOA. That part, at least, no one speaks of with surprise. Even the most damaged Created know the debt they owe their keepers.

Besides, they don't know how to operate alone.

True, that Rinzler wasn't written to. True, that any risk to Alan-one is unacceptable—especially as a result of choices that he made. Rinzler attacked the users on the street. Chara helped, but he initiated, and Tron's maker only came to stop the harm he dealt from going further.

Still, not everything makes it to the news. There's no reference to Rinzler's missing disks. Not a word of the standoff that has built behind closed doors. On this world, as on any other, code is just another form of property—but Rinzler is Alan's property, requiring his creator's permission to modify or open up. It's not something that should have been an issue—the crimes the visitor is charged with are enough to warrant exile a dozen times over. Except that Alan Bradley has refused to leave without his program.

So they wait.

The stalemate won't last. Motions are underway already: invoking exigency for the risk posed to and by a program with no backup, filing to have Alan Bradley forcibly removed or else prosecuted as a native to their world. It won't last, but it's been long enough for those aware of the arrests to gather.

And possibly, prepare a less legal response.
inconsequence: (lawn ornaments?)

and fast forwarding ahead for clu

[personal profile] inconsequence 2017-07-12 12:20 am (UTC)(link)
And eventually, they find him. They would have to be trying to mess up something as simple as a set of coordinates on a TAB, though if anyone could ruin such a thing, it would have to be Chara, would it not?

Back through the Ingress, and back to the world they've come to remember. Clu's coordinates signify his presence in R1, and they gravitate in its direction accordingly.

No physical harm is to come of him.

That will not mean they will hesitate to issue some choice words.

They give no warning of their approach; if Rinzler alerted Clu to the potential for an intrusion, they were not made aware of it. The child's strides are curt and purposeful as they draw ever nearer, disk clasped firmly in their hands.
a_perfect_end: But the levee was dry. (recalculating)

NICE \o/

[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2017-07-12 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
For all their posturing about letting him in, 91c techs hardly bother with him going out again on ~Creator business~ to ~fetch certain belongings~ and it's...should that be insulting, or no?

Their docile idiocy is hardly his problem: he can do nearly anything, so long as they continue to assume he's harmless.

He is not immediately aware of being followed, but he's certainly aware of being approached, and rapidly, by...

Not!Frisk. Not hardly. But not known directly to him, either. The grim expression and terse cant of the spine register with all due gravity.

And he recognizes his new friend's cargo instantly.

"Greetings!" Facile, crisp to hide the sheen of avarice, given away in the sudden total stillness of his posture, like a marionette or a corpse. "I don't think we've met...I am Clu."


"Where did you get that."

It's not a question.
inconsequence: (its a metaphor for our modern society)

[personal profile] inconsequence 2017-07-12 05:59 am (UTC)(link)

It's not without bitter irony that he introduces himself. He cannot possibly have known to steal a demon's words, the clipped formalities of speech they employ. Or so they would have thought, prior to the discovery of his sheer and unending lack of respect for anything resembling boundaries. Who knows what possibilities he may have gleaned from Asriel's source code? From Frisk's?

If he has any understanding as to their function, perhaps he out to reevaluate it. Their eyes are flat, their lips pressed into a thin, uncompromising line.

"I've been tasked to play courier, for the time being." A slight lift of the disk in question, to indicate its importance. "I see you recognize the importance of such an ACT."
a_perfect_end: No angel born in hell. (creeping: operate fixate)

[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2017-07-16 09:14 pm (UTC)(link)
There is no such thing as privacy; there are only obstacles, and he is made to remove them. Each of his new charges were near death when he accepted them--he had to access most of the directories just to diagnose the problem, simply to keep them running.

And if he'd pried a little, well.

For a machine the line between custom and mimicry is very thin.

This one and Frisk share a parent directory, but Clu does not know them. Besides, if Clu had out the eyes of everyone that ever narrowed them his way, half the Grid would be blind.

"Of course." Inquiry, incline of the head, and his words are so, so warm. "You are high in his esteem, or he is entirely desperate--either of which make you intensely interesting."

The you lucky thing is implied in the ever-widening grin.

"...I'm glad to finally meet you."
inconsequence: (i am trained in gorilla warfare and)

[personal profile] inconsequence 2017-07-16 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)
So they're interesting to him, are they. An object to be studied and dissected with a purely scientific interest, no doubt. Consider them coldly unimpressed by the sentiment, evidenced by the slow lift of their eyebrows, the faint curl of a lip that approximates a sneer.

The greeting goes either unnoticed or simply not worth their interest. More likely the latter.

"Desperate, no doubt," says Chara, crisply. But they're not finished playing courier just yet.

There are words that must be said.

"I trust you will not be violating the integrity of anyone's source coding by handing this over."

The unspoken sentiment being of course you don't.
a_perfect_end: Bad news on the doorstep. (procedural language)

[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2017-07-16 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)
All puzzles are interesting! Some are so interesting he just...has to take them apart to see exactly how they work.

Sometimes more than once.
Especially if the results are enlightening the first time.

...Oh. We're. Not gonna sing with the telegram? Is that what the eyebrow is for?

Expressions can be removed just as fast as they are applied: there, no more teeth.

"Excuse me?" Careful, so gentle, all confusion, not a hint of will to it. "I don't understand."

inconsequence: (i mean i know this is The Internet)

[personal profile] inconsequence 2017-07-16 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well, you know." And that is when they smile, a slow, almost pitying upward tug to the corners of their lips. Playing their hand, slowly, carefully. If he'll play dumb, they'll play him right back.

He can't hide from them. Not from their scrutiny. Not from their unblinking scarlet gaze.

"You certainly didn't seem to mind the thought of boundaries before now. I can only imagine what you could do to this," - and their fingertips drum lightly against the side of the disk - "if you felt so inclined to take advantage."
a_perfect_end: In a coat he borrowed from James Dean. (nod your head)

[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2017-08-06 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
Did. Did he just--

Get played by a ten-year-old kid?


"So. You and I both know what that is? What it's for? Sharp cookie." Nothing false about the flick of the hand, conspiratorial; the kind that goes with tiger or champ in situations that merit praise. "And you don't want to fork it over--Because?"

If the kid wants to colloquialism:vulgar: cut the shit, sure, he can do that.

"Who did what in your Wheaties, exactly? Maybe I can help."
inconsequence: (youre fucking dead kid)

[personal profile] inconsequence 2017-08-06 03:32 am (UTC)(link)
He absolutely did. Be proud, Clu.

Rather sharp, are they not? Hold your applause; they've a singular acquaintance to Rinzler that has only grown increasingly complicated over the months, and his most recent discovery has not eased those subsequent revelations in the slightest.

"I've no interest in any help you have to offer." Their tone is cold, dismissive, and they're not about to offer the disk - not just yet. "I simply wish to ensure that Rinzler will still be Rinzler when his disk is inevitably returned."
a_perfect_end: How that music used to make me smile. (bad command or file name)

[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2017-08-06 04:56 am (UTC)(link)
The variables swing aside with fulcrum weight, hitting him right in the face as they go. Just what is this kid, to Rinzler--to the rest of them--

But then he switches tracks. The tone doesn't really carry the tune, melody out of step with lyrics, the usual and ancient song:

No, don't and when they're feeling brave or original there's a blurt of traitor, of Flynn wouldn't want this.

Like there ever was a god. Like anybody even cared, except for Clu.

"Rinzler is not yours," almost cheerful, "and he will never be. But if words'll do it for you, I'm happy to pinky swear."
inconsequence: (wont understand)

[personal profile] inconsequence 2017-08-06 05:04 am (UTC)(link)
The look he receives would desiccate oceans; utterly xeric and wholly glacial. The full force of those scarlet eyes has occasionally been referred to as creepy in its own right, but it is possible they overestimate their capacity to leave a lasting impression.

His false cheer does not fool them, nor do his words.

"He is not yours either," the child hisses. "And he never will be. No matter what it is you may claim to the contrary."
a_perfect_end: The players tried for a forward pass. (reboot retry)


[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2017-08-08 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
[It's a succession of appearances, with this one, but here, again, at last, is the core expression.

It's a skull's grin answering him, now that they're really looking at each other.]

I like that face!

[It's less laughter and more a blurt of reverb, abrupt, harsh--but his words are gentle with bare greed.]

This is you. Not that--Neverland posturing. This, I want you to know, I take it very, very seriously.

...I've already promised him, and he means a lot more to me than you do.
inconsequence: (into your electric toothbrush)

[personal profile] inconsequence 2017-08-08 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
Does he? Well, that would make one of them. They hardly count as something worth looking upon - despicable in every sense of the word, particularly the visual. They will smile, and they will be hideous, and their eyes burn like live coals.

"I would tell you where you can leave your promises," says Chara, icily, "but I'd not sully your delicate ears with the term."

Are they not a skeleton with standards?


Ha ha. Of course not.

They have zero redeeming qualities.

They hold the disk outward, and they do not ever tear their gaze from his.

"You have no notion of what he means to me or anyone else." The words are clipped, almost formal - but no less distant. "Do not presume that you do."
a_perfect_end: While the sergeants played a marching tune. (stripes)

[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2017-08-12 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
Of course he does!

Only ugliness is real.

And Chara is being more genuine and more generous with both than anyone has been in a long, long time.

Fire for fire, there in his gaze, but it's a moderated oilslick sheen, dull gold like the hoard of something unwholesome and too long overgrown.

"Do you, or do you not, want me to say I will not erase him, I will not revert him, I will never remove what makes him Rinzler?"

His fingers are golden talons, open, expectant, poised to clutch.

"I can give you what you want. Better be sure."
Edited (formatting is a real thing that gets half-saved in gdocs) 2017-08-12 01:18 (UTC)
inconsequence: (ill have you know i graduated)


[personal profile] inconsequence 2017-08-12 01:31 am (UTC)(link)
"It does not matter what it is you say to me, Clu." My, but they've a fine selection of insults they could skim from his name, like whisking seafoam off ocean waves. "It does not matter what promises you claim to uphold."

The disk is pressed into the hollow of palm with every inch of self-possessed disgust the child can possibly bring to bear.

"You have proven that your reliability, when it comes to the personal code of others, is flawed at best. And so I will not expect you to adhere to your own standards." Not that it matters any - because they have no standards. "No matter what it is I think, Rinzler has directed me to your person, and so I will keep to my word."

You cannot say they do not keep their promises, at least. He made his choice long ago.

"In fact," says Chara, folding their arms behind their back, spine rigid and taut as a drawn bowstring, "I have only one thing to say to you, sir."
inconsequence: (on my fucking property)

[personal profile] inconsequence 2017-08-12 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
"Should you ever deign to approach Frisk or Asriel Dreemurr again?"

Words are weapons, and children are knives. You should always take care when drawing near.

"I will make your life hell."

The words coil out in a blaze of scarlet to match their eyes - to match the shade their eyes once were, for now they are pitch-dark as black holes, the smile stretched thin and curled into the ridges of their cheeks.

A blink of their eyes, and the black-rot clouding them has vanished.

They smile, wide and polite.

"I do hope we understand one another."
a_perfect_end: In a coat he borrowed from James Dean. (nod your head)

[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2017-08-16 12:38 am (UTC)(link)
A thing all edges with the glint of bare bone, or steel, showing him new contradictions at each angle, and every one of them can cut.

He cannot break promises he hasn't made, and in this way the threat is less accurate than it might otherwise be--if no less real.

Red shutters across Chara's vision, coal-hot, and peels back to let the night out, vows rolling neat crimson through even teeth. Red is an old and powerful signal--only here it grinds against itself, snarls mismatch and poisonous error.

Total loyalty to the wrong things. From both of them.

...Clu got what he came for.

"Of course." Precise, decorous, not a hint of mockery. The disc out of sight--and out of reach--immediately. "Absolutely. You're right."

He'll not do him the mockery of being gentle. It's a statement of fact, word for word, calm and warm.

"Be seeing you, kiddo."
inconsequence: (across the usa and your ip)

[personal profile] inconsequence 2017-08-16 02:17 am (UTC)(link)

Was that intentional, they cannot help but wonder idly. Did he know of those automatic associations, deriving them from the manifold lines of ones and zeroes in either child's code? Did he pick them apart, piece them back together, and ascertain just the correct mixture of condescending dismissal couched in even nonchalance?

They'll never know now. To trust any of his words to be genuine would be to err on a fundamental level - and thus, they say nothing in response. Nothing at all.

Nothing, aside from the thin, well-polished smile that curls into their cheeks.

"Yes. I imagine you will."

And they recede, slowly, never once tearing their gaze away. Never once.

They do not turn their back on even those who claim to be allies.