Yori (Tron 1982) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
yorisearching) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2017-10-07 08:52 pm
yorisearching) wrote in thisavrou_log2017-10-07 08:52 pm
Sadcat Manor mingle log
Who: Yori's new roommates, aka the Shepard-Undertale clan and adoptees, and anyone visiting them.
When: Probably all month, at least.
Where: In and around Sadcat Manor, in the Residential sector.
What: Mingle log! Tag each other, tag around.
Warnings: Discussions of trauma, brainwashing, coping badly by use of alcohol, hard to tell what else with this group. (Warn for anything graphic you expect in your individual threads, please.)
Setting up a household takes a lot of work from everyone; this is a catchall for things that don't quite fit the opening event log.
Visitors to the Shepard clan might want to plan ahead and let someone know to expect them, it's more polite, but anyone's welcome to find Yori out working on her ship!
When: Probably all month, at least.
Where: In and around Sadcat Manor, in the Residential sector.
What: Mingle log! Tag each other, tag around.
Warnings: Discussions of trauma, brainwashing, coping badly by use of alcohol, hard to tell what else with this group. (Warn for anything graphic you expect in your individual threads, please.)
Setting up a household takes a lot of work from everyone; this is a catchall for things that don't quite fit the opening event log.
Visitors to the Shepard clan might want to plan ahead and let someone know to expect them, it's more polite, but anyone's welcome to find Yori out working on her ship!
2/2
(Why?)
She means it.
(Why?)
Yori's stare will meet the opaque faceplate. Yori's stare will meet an utter stillness and a clicking interrupt to Rinzler's usual low whirring of noise. Invalid input. Invalid address. A thousand error codes and a hundred faults, but none of them have ever been needed to flag this.
Rinzler wasn't coded for communication. Rinzler was Clu's weapon. Rinzler wasn't meant for independent action, wasn't capable of friends, wasn't meant to be anything outside his use. But Rinzler is, and Rinzler has been, and that isn't (all) (isn't most of) why he stalls so thoroughly at the input. Static breaks the loop first, joined with a jolt of tension. Frame curling and straightening, making to step back and making to move forward... and going nowhere, in the end, at all.
"N-not—"
The word is sharp, and cuts off just as quickly. A ragged dip of the enforcer's mask: I, flagged in the absence of the term itself. And something else, perhaps, if not nearly so intentional. But if the gesture begins the phrase, the unsteady flickering of light completes it.
Four squares, illuminating a familiar blue.
no subject
The blue light comes as a shock. Rinzler doesn't do that on purpose, and she's not sure what it means about his code or his state of mind.
It's clear what he's trying to say, though. She reaches forward to frame the shift of blue, doesn't quite dare touch. This, at least, she's considered in detail. "You're not Tron," she agrees, turning her face to seek the gaze behind the helmet. "I know that. I'm not asking you to be."
She clenches one fist for a pained moment. "I'm always going to miss the programs I left in Encom. But I'm here. I don't want to let the person I've grown to love here believe he's not enough to win my affection."
A quiver of a smile. "I mean you, Rinzler." Confirming the obvious: an important task in dealing with Security, in her experience.
no subject
Yori's reach stops just short of the blue lights, and [Rinzler] stares, sound nearly silent as he waits for her to close the gap. But completion comes with words, not contact, with the negation of old terms, not their replacement. Yori is looking at him, and the helmet twitches upward, noise stuttering a little as she follows his eyes past the mask.
"...why?"
The syllable slips free before he can catch it, tangled in a hash of static and regret and followed, immediately, by a negating jerk of Rinzler's helm. Yori is bright and beautiful and far too good, but Yori doesn't owe him an accounting. Still, it doesn't match; [he] can't, and words stutter with the fluctuation of his lights.
"I'm not—"
(She knows.)
"I can't be—like that."
Independent. Hers. Not completely, not the way Tron was, and the harsh clatter of mismatch builds despite the lingering seeds of blue-white. Rinzler isn't enough, because even if he could be, even if Yori were to care to that degree...
Rinzler serves Clu.
no subject
So, why?
Why does she love him? Love has never been something she could subject to analysis, not when young Tron asked, not when her exasperated sisters asked. Why him? He's so much trouble.
"Just be happy I love how stubborn you are," she advises Rinzler with a wry look.
If Yori could put up with Tron's loyalty to Alan-One, she can probably put up with Rinzler's loyalty to Clu. Better not phrase it that way, though; neither Rinzler nor Tron would approve. It is different. Clu's an active threat to both of them and this fragile new alliance, a murderer by choice.
Why does she need to tell him, despite the risk? She shakes her head slowly. "Whether you have the freedom to spend any time with me or not isn't going to change how I feel. I need you to know I love you because there are so many things that might separate us."
Clu. The next threat. The next random leap between worlds and times.
no subject
He isn't Tron, and he can't be. Rinzler isn't entirely his own to give, but Yori isn't asking him to cross that line.
So why is he hesitating?
The helmet dips a little lower, eyes dropping to the stalled reach. Slowly, his hand lifts to meet hers, brushing carefully against Yori's fingers before lacing his own in between. She feels the same. Tron's counterpart. His friend. Except not, except more, except he (
isn't right) (isn't hers) doesn't know where else to set those lines. He isn't sure how to say so. But Yori is Yori, and he wouldn't put it past her to understand anyway."Sure?"
The enforcer's sound has softened, but there's a faint rise to inflection underneath the word. Humorous, almost, if he weren't so deadly serious. Last offer.
She can still take it back.
no subject
His objections matter, but they aren't new. Yori's been hashing that part over for a long time. She wouldn't have opened the subject for anything less than absolute certainty on her own part. His response matters more. She's never been able to predict that, as hard as she's tried.
Rinzler's hand slides into hers as though they belong together. Hope springs to life, a bright pulse that makes her tremble. And after that is she sure?
"Of course."
She knows Rinzler's stubborn loyalties, even where they conflict with one another; she knows what Rinzler remembers and how hard Rinzler fought to remember it. She won't be careless with his feelings.
Yori squeezes his hand in pure affection. "If you need some time to process this, I won't be upset," she tries to reassure Rinzler. It's not like he's had months with little to analyze except her feelings. Whatever he needs she wants to give him. "I love you. I'm not going to decide otherwise."
no subject
This doesn't, either.
The helmet ducks, shakes, a static whisper somewhere between dissent and amusement. Not at Yori, and not at what she chose. Even if it's faulty, even if it's glitched. Yori is at least as stubborn as he's ever been, and incalculably wiser. That's what makes it so strange—that she would think he might need time.
Lights are steady at a too-bright red as Rinzler steps forward. The gestures lag, from caution and disuse, but it hasn't been so long since Yori offered him a guideline. His free hand curls around one shoulder. His helmet rests over the second, point carefully tucked out of the way as he settles into the embrace. It's not a perfect fit. Not like their joined hands, not like the ebbing pressure of old memories.
Still.
"Love you," he informs the bright, brilliant presence tucked against him. Rinzler returns the squeeze, contacts open so she can feel it too.
no subject
The helmet is new, a smooth shell she needs to allow some extra room, but she will happily learn to cope as long as it means Rinzler is here and safe.
Much faster than Yori had predicted, indeed almost faster than she'd dared to hope for. She knows Rinzler cares about her, but she's gotten used to giving him time to consider.
If they can work on the consideration while hugging more often, it sounds like a wonderful plan.
As much as he's always tried to protect her, this acknowledgement feels new and unexpected, because he's not Tron, he's been hurt so much more than Tron ever had in Encom and shared memories or not there's no particular reason he should trust her.
But he does, because he loves her, and the response echoes between them like whole systems lighting up after a long darkness.
Yori's determined to do her very best not to betray that. Even if it means letting Clu keep hold of a loyalty he definitely does not deserve. No hostilities until Rinzler is ready for them, if she can help it.
"It amazes me how brave you are, Rinzler," she murmurs. Because he deserves to hear it, but also because she's glad one of them knows when to stop calculating risks and hug.
no subject
"Wrong." Bravery had nothing to do with this feeling. The want: for proximity, for contact. For the chance to be as close as she'll allow for as long as he can manage. Rinzler had missed Yori before he had known her. Trust had never been a question. If she decided he needed harm... probably, he did.
If she came to be harmed, it would be much less forgivable. Rinzler pulls back just enough to look at Yori's face—stalls, just for a moment, in quiet joy at the sight. Yori has to know the hazards. Has to know that Clu will know, and anything that draws his administrator's focus towards her is a risk. He's asked once already, but he should check again, however often it might take for Yori to see reason. But he's still stalling, still awed, and when the opaque mask dips, it's not a [retry] that comes out.
"Selfish."
Admission. Correction. It could almost be an apology, if Rinzler planned to stop.
no subject
As worried as she is that Clu might hurt Rinzler over this, that her actions might disrupt a delicate balance she barely understands...everything she says and does is equally a risk when she doesn't know what will push Clu to violence. Existing is a risk. The risk of losing Rinzler without ever telling him she cares is one she would regret even more than Clu blaming her for whatever Clu decides to do.
At least that's the logic on this side of a hypothetical she desperately hopes never happens.
Clu could take the Rinzler she knows away at his own whim, but she'd rather trust Rinzler to fight his way back to her somehow if she gives him enough reason than trust Clu to be reasonable even if she does nothing.
Still, the calculation makes her loosen her grip enough to look at the dark helmet. "I know you're loyal to Clu, so if anything comes up that would upset him, it's okay to tell me and I won't do it." At least not in front of Rinzler. She can find some way around.
Speaking of known risk factors, why is it so quiet outside her door? Surely one of the small Users should have gotten frustrated enough to hear by now.
"Should we check on the Users?" It's too easy to get distracted here in Rinzler's embrace.
no subject
Still, Rinzler wouldn't have made that offer aloud.
Visuals won't flag much, but stiff concern tenses through contact as he listens. Rinzler is loyal. Clu will know. Not from any verbal report, but the same way he knows everything his enforcer does and sees. Yori's words are saved to file, stored in a slim weight docked in his back: a record Clu will certainly review. Offering him concessions is one thing, but expressing, in Clu's hearing, a willingness to submit to Clu's wants... Rinzler's admin never has refused an offer of control.
"I—I'll handle it."
A stutter: to select the phrase... and for a nanocycle's crumbling impossibility. Then the terms solidify, voice sharp and intractable. Rinzler serves Clu. And Rinzler loves Yori. Whatever the result of Clu's upset, he'll take them on, and filter to Yori what she needs to know. It's (a claim) a promise.
Those words too, are not strictly for those here.
He hadn't even considered the users. Rinzler doesn't find himself inclined to start, but if Yori's asking, it's probably with cause. Shoulders twitch, mask dipping in a half nod before he slowly steps apart.
no subject
Rinzler's idea of handling things doesn't put his own well-being anywhere on the priority list at all, so she's not much reassured.
However, anything she'd want to explain about her logic would also go straight to Clu, so there's not much to say. She just hopes Rinzler will be all right.
And as for everything else, this is not a secure place to talk detail, Clu's review aside, because Yori left the door open and outside it is worryingly silent.
She draws away from his comfort, leaves her hand firmly clasping his armored fingers. "I want to spend more time with you," Yori adds, "but later..." She trails off as she opens the door with a light touch.
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