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.
pleasereset: draikinator on tumblr (Displeased)

[personal profile] pleasereset 2017-06-28 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
[It's a little worrying that lately Asriel's previous two months have involved him picking fights of some kind. Usually his style of fighting is more desperate, more reckless, and always with someone else's well-being on the line.

Rinzler's jailbreak situation is no different, except with one difference.

Asriel sure seems like he's gotten much better at fighting - almost strangely calm, strategic. He's made it halfway in, usually his newly upgraded disk to take down guards and causing a few distractions with his bomb disk.

Still, Asriel is a monster. And a monster versus armed guards still leaves him vulnerable with having such a paper-thin defense. As he rounds a corner, a guard with a gun spots him.

"Freeze! Don't take a step further, put your weapon down and put your hands up!"

He doesn't listen, gripping his disk tighter. His mind is entirely focused on what he's supposed to do, and nothing else.

The guard starts to pull the trigger, aiming to take the boss monster out in one shot.]
pleasereset: tc-96 on deviantart (Ughhh)

ota

[personal profile] pleasereset 2017-06-28 06:00 am (UTC)(link)
[After everything's settled, Asriel didn't get away completely unscathed. He did a lot of fighting guards, blowing up things with is newly altered disk, and generally fighting his way to help rescue Rinzler.

He hopes Clu is proud. He hopes Rinzler is too. He's really tired...

As soon as they're in the clear, Asriel finds a spot to sit down and rest. He's got bruises and cuts on him, but none of them lethal. And none of them as serious as his injuries on the Outpost. He does look awful though, his usually soft white fur looking a lot more scruffy and despite having his vision back, there's that burn scar across the left side of his face.]


How's... how's that for a Created?

[Yeah, he's still bitter.]
alan_1: (eyes down)

closed; hi i'm incapable of being concise

[personal profile] alan_1 2017-06-29 01:25 am (UTC)(link)
It’s been a day since Rinzler turned himself in. They’d told him, as if it would make him change his mind. ”We can’t help him without your permission,” they’d said. ”The longer you keep this up, the worse it’ll be for him.”

Alan had spent the first few hours trying to reason with them: pointing out that both he and Rinzler would gladly leave through the Ingress and never return if they let them, that their own brush with a similarly “glitched” Program had come long before Rinzler had even set foot in their world. When it became clear that they wouldn’t listen, it turned to arguing—against their world, against their laws, against them as people. It doesn’t help, but it at least feels good to call them what they are: willfully ignorant, complacent, and complicit in a global system of slavery.

Not that they’d ever call it that. Their expressions are almost sympathetic when they hear his accusations and they gently correct him.

”We’re only doing what’s best for them. Can you really look at your own Program and say he wouldn’t be happier if he’d been created here?”

It’s useless trying to disagree. They bring up Rinzler at every turn—Alan’s tortured, broken Program, lashing out in confusion at innocent people—with calm certainty that this alone is enough to prove Alan wrong. ”We hardly think you’re fit to lecture us on Created welfare. Haven’t you hurt him enough already?”

Alan stops responding eventually. He can’t change their minds—and they can’t change his. The stalemate clearly grates at them enough as it is. There’s a viewing screen in his locked room for when they want to contact him; the conversations are predictably one-sided. ”He doesn’t have a backup to sync with. How long can he stay like this? Do you even know? Why won’t you let us help him?”

Alan stays silent every time. He doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t know how long Rinzler will last.

He doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t know if his decision is the right one.

After hours of radio silence, they try a different approach. Someone unlocks his door and asks him to follow. The sudden shift makes Alan wary. Has something changed? He follows nonetheless, still staying silent in case they take any conversation as an invitation for another debate. They lead him to a room he’s seen before; it’s the same one they questioned him in when he was first arrested. He notes that there are more guards on the doors this time around.

A woman enters and calmly states the facts. They’ve been holding him there for about two days now. If he refuses to accept exile, they’ll be forced to treat him as a native. That means trials, likely drawn out and highly publicized, and eventually, a near certainty of lengthy prison sentences. The woman is polite, but cold. The unspoken reasoning for the threats is obvious. ’You clearly don’t care about your Program’s wellbeing, but maybe you still care about your own hide.’ The woman continues. They’d like to avoid the eventuality of a trial as much as Alan would. For that purpose, they hope being able to see his Program will help change Alan’s mind. Their reasoning is clear, too: perhaps it will be more difficult for him to deny his charge care, if he can see him for himself.

It’s the first bit of reprieve he’s had for the past two days, so much so that he almost thanks them. It’s been nerve-wracking enough hearing that Rinzler is in custody without knowing the Program’s condition. But he stays quiet and only nods, hoping that the sudden wave of anxiety and anticipation doesn’t show in his expression.

And he waits, just as before.
a_perfect_end: While the sergeants played a marching tune. (stripes)

KNOCK KNOCK

[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2017-06-29 05:21 am (UTC)(link)
Clu waits and counts the track of feet. Nihlus falls into position. They flicker hand signs to each other--eyes up is universal, it would seem. Nihlus is in the hall, out of it again, and they're both sight unseen down the passage, facing what must be the door at last.

Wired as he is, he doesn't need the diagram to detect that sound, for the faint, steady rumble to tick over, too slow and too deep.

Hear it before you see it? That perception is an artifact of the human brain. In reality, sound requires a transfer medium--liquid, solid, whatever--and is many, many factors slower than light.

And still Clu waits. He can modify anything, anyone he can get his hands on, but the power required for this is prohibitive. There's no doing it over.

Agitated, living light simply bends through annoyances like blastproof glass, trivialities like polished concrete floors, and doesn't even slow down for sweet nothings like the neat, thin frontal bones of a human skull. Doesn't stop until the wrong end of the power curve makes him solid again, half-in and half-out of what might have been the room's only guard. Whatever it was, it's cauterized, sheared off too clean to even smoke.

"Do not," and the sound is moving slow enough to chase him, soft, gentle in its perfect wrath, "get up."

They are standing in a mausoleum dressed as a torture chamber wearing a prison--something too horrible to be real--and he's overdone it, and as hot as he runs, no light is infinite.

Darkness rushes in on his tracks. Or it was always there.

But Nihlus is there, too.
alan_1: (eyes down)

OTA

[personal profile] alan_1 2017-06-30 01:05 am (UTC)(link)
[There hasn’t been much time for conversation since they escaped from the facility. Alan’s barely had time to catch his breath, much less say anything substantial to his rescuers. Eventually though, they reach some semblance of safety and suddenly Alan is in a room with a group of people who risked their lives to save both Rinzler and himself.

Not that anyone seems to be in much mood for celebration. Relief, maybe. Alan expects he’s not the only one who wants to put the memory of his time on Earth 91c far, far behind him.

Still, after they’ve had some time to depressurize, he’ll quietly approach one of their rescuers.]


I’m sure this goes without saying, but… Thank you. For getting us out of there.
yorisearching: (wry)

OTA

[personal profile] yorisearching 2017-06-30 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
Practice at waiting while people she cares about are trapped doesn't mean Yori will ever like the helpless pressure.

All of them are back. All who can still be found.

Yori needs to prove that to her own overclocked analysis. Plus, most of them don't have the best record of seeking help when they need it.

Now that she can, she translates her worry into action, seeking out her friends and allies one by one. "I'm glad you're safe," she wants to say. "How are you?" --her best attempt at a polite status request, because she's been flinching from every calculation of the increasing chance she might lose some or all of them.
yorisearching: (smile)

[personal profile] yorisearching 2017-06-30 06:23 am (UTC)(link)
[The risks Yori took were minor compared to everyone else, but it still warms her to hear praise from Alan-One. She smiles at him.]

You're welcome. I'm glad I could do something to help--and that it worked out.

[Sort of. Well. They're alive and free of that planet, at least.]

And you, are you all right?

[Yori knows how Tron took being imprisoned by the MCP: he never stopped fighting, but even his stubborn spirit was bruised. Alan-One has the same stubbornness in a design with much less physical strength.]
beautifulspaceraptor: (Human!)

[personal profile] beautifulspaceraptor 2017-06-30 06:45 am (UTC)(link)
Get down!

[ A gray and green armored hand snaps through the air in front of Asriel and there's a flash of blue-

The guard will have about a split second of stunned staring when the bullet ricochets off of thin air before they're tidily knocked out with a blast of Overload.

If Asriel looks behind him, he will find an armored human staring down at him through the visor of a smooth, gray helmet. The armor is clearly foreign and the stare is definitely disapproving. despite the lack of visible features. ]


... Asriel?
beautifulspaceraptor: (pissing off a Spectre is a bad idea)

[personal profile] beautifulspaceraptor 2017-06-30 07:43 am (UTC)(link)
The door hisses open the rest of the way and Nihlus slips in soundlessly, still donning the hologram disguise of one of the guards he'd scanned before they'd made their way down to the storage room proper. Taking in the sight of the dead human, then Clu, his eyes flicker briefly down to the temperature reading on his HUD.

That. Was an interesting new ability he didn't know about.

He doesn't stop to take in the rest of the room. The Spectre's eyes slide over the familiar figure at the end of it- the tell-tale low power glow of orange circuits- and then refocuses on the desk the guard had been manning. They're still logged in and Nihlus is familiar enough with the various UIs of this Earth by now that it only takes a few seconds to reverse the power flow in Rinzler's charge station.

"There's cameras in the room," he says over his shoulder. "We're about to run out of time very, very quickly. You'll need to unlock the restraints manually, there's no controls for them here."

The station would have probably been modified to accommodate Rinzler's specific... circumstances after all.

"Do you have enough power for that, Clu?"

As he waits for the answer, Nihlus hooks his omni-tool up with the computer and gets to work trying to find them an exit.
alan_1: (you know who i am)

[personal profile] alan_1 2017-06-30 11:59 pm (UTC)(link)
I’m fine. Just glad to be out of there, really.

[Being imprisoned had been unpleasant. Knowing Rinzler would suffer for every day that he failed to come to an agreement with their captors was much worse. Given their differing circumstances, Alan hardly thinks he’s the one people should be concerned about.

He gives Yori a wan smile.]


With such a timely jailbreak, I don’t have much reason to complain.
yorisearching: (peaceful)

[personal profile] yorisearching 2017-07-01 03:42 am (UTC)(link)
If it weren't obvious just from the fact of imprisonment, the low circuits show how strained Rinzler must be.

Yori's grateful for the silent nod of reassurance, even though she's aware Rinzler would have to be on the edge of derez to answer the question any other way. That probably says something about how worried she's been.

She's not sure how to respond to the bow. It doesn't feel right. She doesn't know what would. Maybe nothing can.

Maybe she should test that. Yori knows what would make her feel better.

"Would it be okay if I hug you?" she asks. Rinzler's been trapped for some interminable time on top of all the things he's already dealing with, Yori doesn't want to grab hold of him without asking.

But clinging to a fragile calm has left her weary. She needs a hug. She'd like to hope friendly contact will do Rinzler some good, too.
a_perfect_end: Do you recall what was revealed? (inspection)

[personal profile] a_perfect_end 2017-07-01 07:32 am (UTC)(link)
"...They already know we're here, and I know you can get us out of here again." The words are inane, slow as the idea of being solid again takes hold. But Nihlus knows what he's doing, and Clu knows a pro when he sees one, and both of them know there isn't much time.

Clu moves at a steady clip past sleek darkened rows of upturned faces, rapt, features slack and soft with something too small to be death. They're not asleep, but they're not his, and this is not his system--

The only berth that matters is on the end, guttering like a nest of embers half-smothered in ash, and does he have enough power.

He's too tired to scoff at that, saving it instead for cracking off the flimsy play at a coffin lid they thought could hold down anyone with half a charge.

The stasis unit is a dumb terminal coughing up dumb errors even for the correct inputs. They've User-proofed it so thoroughly it doesn't, or can't, accept his routines.

It refuses all prompts. It is not stronger than his grip.

"Yeah?" Amid the cold, brittle metallic squalling of composite that didn't want to give. Reinforced leads and siphons bristle over Rinzler's wincing form at critical junctions, ugliness and filth that should not be there, and Clu can feel where he's growling it, "Yeah, yeah I've got it! Hang on."

The restraints are somewhat easier going. He'd never risk Rinzler's disc for this, but his own does just as well--there are sparks where they'd expected it, but they'd calibrated their material for Rinzler, for surgical razor finesse.

Clu hatchets at the sheer nonsense enshrouding his enforcer's legs and arms and simply carves most of it loose.

"Listen to me," gruff, close as he bends forward, relief or something else catching tight in his throat, the differential strobing through his circuits, "listen. Can you stand?"

They've got to be ready to run.
pleasereset: thegrinningkitten on tumblr (I can help)

[personal profile] pleasereset 2017-07-02 05:06 am (UTC)(link)
[Asriel's quick to notice the presence next to him, and his worn expression turns to relief. He heard the mission was successful, but he hadn't seen Rinzler yet to be sure. He offers a tired-looking grin.]

Rinzler! I'm glad you're OK - you're not hurt, are you?
beautifulspaceraptor: (lock and loaded)

[personal profile] beautifulspaceraptor 2017-07-02 06:52 am (UTC)(link)
The security here wasn't particularly spectacular: it was a storage facility after all, not a prison. The Programs kept here were generally incapable of harming a creator and the biggest threat to security would be thieves. Sure, they'd bulked the security up some with a prisoner like Rinzler around, but the fact that they'd been confident enough to just install one guard in the room spoke volumes about what they'd been expecting.

And they hadn't been expecting them.

Best not to get cocky though.

While Clu goes to town on the restraints, Nihlus pulls up the security feeds from various parts of the building on one screen and gets to work trying to get admin access on another. Between the data he'd harvested previously from the CCOA and his own Spectre-grade decryption software and VI, it takes only a minute- after which he promptly revokes all access from everyone in the building, neatly trapping a good number of the security guards and blocking the path for the very armed backup coming their way. Then, after granting new privileges to the security guard he was logged in as, he quickly changes the password to the account before logging off.

"Building's surrounded. We're going out the roof."

Kneeling next to the corpse, he pulls out the dead guard's ID key card.

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