You can never say that I didn't try

[notglitching]

Who: Rinzler and OPEN
When: April 14th through the 24th
Where: the Hold
What: Rinzler killed some people and copes poorly. Set after this log.
Warnings: references to character death and mindscrew, glowy injuries, unfortunate assumptions. (See also: Rinzler.)


The first place Rinzler woke up in this system was a cell. He'd been locked in after a fight with his duplicate—with Tron. Not that the enforcer had been capable then of even hearing the older version's name. Rinzler had attacked because he had to, because the overrides built in his mind detected conflict and demanded he delete the source. Since then, he's shattered that if/then chain. Chipped away at the filters on his memories, even managed, once or twice, to speak.

But he's back where he started, and he knows better than to expect things to end the same way.

For the most part, visitors will find Rinzler seated on the low bench back against the wall. Circuits burn dimly in the shadows, almost outshone by the dull glint of fractured code that covers a full half of the enforcer's core. He's turned slightly to conceal the injured side, but the spiderwebbing cracks through code and armor are obvious to see, and he doesn't have the power to refresh his shell and cover up the damage.

The low rattle of corrupted code echoes through the cell and down the corridor, though it does nothing to compete with the invectives from the user locked in one door down. Rinzler approaches shutdown just once, curled up against the wall, and if the flickering lights and twitch of limbs is any sign, it's anything but restful. The program won't notice anyone approaching then, but he probably wouldn't mind being woken.

Once or twice, Rinzler rises, pacing, frustration and the need to move boiling up through the despair. There's nowhere to go, though, nothing to do, and even that much risks opening his damage further. Maybe he should. Fracture, break, rip himself apart and leave them voxels on the floor to claim and punish. Rinzler wonders if he ever tried before. If he does, he can't remember. He wonders what they'll make him into. Alan-one had told him what would happen, told him he'd correct the fault if Rinzler fought again. Now two users are dead, and if there's any hope at all, it's that they'll decide he's too worthless to salvage.


[[ooc: the duration during which Rinzler can be visited depends largely on the results of his trial, so there may be some time-wobbling. In particular, if he ends up with solitary confinement... no longer applicable; Rinzler will be visitable for both the trial period and his sentence. ETA 2: As of the 20th, temperature conditions will be improved thanks to Vision + co.

Prose and spam both welcome!]]

Comments

[notglitching]

Rinzler's bristling lets up not at all at that announcement. Just because the users could break into his code doesn't mean it was permissible. It certainly didn't mean Rinzler trusted them to do so. The last time he was locked up, he hadn't killed two users, and he doubts any of them would be so forgiving now.

Still, it's not until Tron mentions Alan-one that Rinzler flinches outright. The black helmet twitches down before shaking silently from side to side. No. (Wrong.) Tron has no idea what he's talking about. Or maybe he does. The other program wouldn't think of it as harm, would he? Rinzler is bad code, false data, corrupted values to be wiped or overwritten at their user's need.

Still. He doesn't want to be remade.

[fight4theusers]

Why is he so afraid?

Tron's trust in his User is absolute, and he knows in the very core of his code that Alan would never harm him, nor Rinzler, by extension. He can't say that he holds any sort of loyalty toward Rinzler, but he does not want to see his double derezzed, or even injured like this.

"I know you have no reason to trust me," he tries again. "But trust our User."

[notglitching]

Rinzler trusts in Alan-one as well. Trusts in his choices. In his certainty. In the fact that he'll never, ever change his mind. (And beneath that, there's a squirming value of mismatch, the reminder that Tron is right, that he should trust in [fight for] [serve] his—)

Noise scratches into a snarl, head jerking sideways as he tries to clear the glitch. Rinzler stares downward almost blankly, circuits shivering and dim, before he reaches for his MID.

Not what he wants.

He isn't.

[fight4theusers]

Rinzler, it's really difficult to understand you when you speak only in growls and cryptic messages. Tron's own circuits brighten slightly as he struggles to parse his copy's meaning.

"Have you tried to speak with him?" He calculates that Rinzler has not, but he has to ask. "How do you know what he wants?"

[notglitching]

Tron, you should know from experience that the cryptic messages? Are a step up. The increased processing is impossible to miss even in Rinzler's current state, but the enforcer's far too on edge for Tron's efforts to do anything but annoy.

Rinzler's sound rises, harsh and ragged as he jerks his head down in a nod. Yes, he talked. He tried. It hadn't changed anything, and it never would, and Rinzler knows his mirror isn't stupid. So why is it pretending to be?

Wants you.

Tron was the program Alan-one had written. The one the user wanted to exist. Rinzler was a weapon, Rinzler was damage, something that needed to be changed and fixed. Alan-one had said as much—to him, and to both users locked down in this hall. He knows.

[fight4theusers]

Tron frowns and shakes his head again. Yes, Rinzler is the overwrite, the... rectified version of Tron. He knows there's problems with that code, he's seen it himself, in the glitches he's had, since arriving here. But those are his own to fix, his own to ask for his User's help. He's no longer Rinzler, in his mind.

Rinzler has to come around on his own, he can't be forcibly recoded into Tron. That would be no better than what Clu did to him, in the first place. Rinzler has to want to be Tron, again. Maybe one day, he will.

"I think you're wrong about him. He'll help you, if you'll let him."

Tron takes a deep breath to cool his systems. This line of reasoning is going nowhere, it seems.

"In any case... I believe your trial was unfairly biased against you. Why did you not give a defense?"

[notglitching]

There's another headshake, glass-edged static winding through Rinzler's code. It's frustration as much as hurt, a coiled, seething anger he can't voice. Tron might be willing to look his way, but he isn't listening to Rinzler any more than Alan-one had done.

Why is that even a surprise? By his standards, Rinzler's sure those promised edits count as help.

The question that follows is painfully ironic. The mask is still, pause dragging out far longer than the heat-glitch would create, before Rinzler's shoulders twitch inward in a shrug.

Wouldn't matter.

[fight4theusers]

Tron would listen, if Rinzler would actually tell him something. The miscommunication, the disconnect is just as frustrating to him. He used to be Rinzler, but he can't understand him, not like this, not anymore. Have they diverged so far, now?

"Why do you say that?" Tron doesn't understand why Rinzler wouldn't stand up in his own defense. "If you'd shown them your disc... your memories, you could have proved one way or the other. Surely they would have listened."

[notglitching]

Rinzler's definitely grown and changed. In some respects more than others. Still, that suggestion earns an angry shift of the ticking rumble, noise edging closer to a growl.

Disk access: restricted.

To them. And to him. Rinzler can't show anyone his records—he doesn't even have the permissions to open up his disk.

[fight4theusers]

"You can't even..." Oh. Of course. Tron... Rinzler had been locked out of his disc, his memories, during those long cycles under Clu's control. Obviously Clu wouldn't want his prize accidentally accessing old memories, seeing what had been done to him.

Breaking that lock, forcing his way into those memories...

I fight for the Users!

...every line of his code stretched to breaking, his mind torn and warring with itself, knowing the only option was to crash and take Clu with him...

But no, he was alive now, wasn't he? Not quite whole, but not Rinzler, not anymore, and with his own memories and Rinzler's memories both.

And Rinzler still couldn't access his own. Not without Clu's permission... Clu, who wasn't here, who was still glitching up Rinzler's existence even in his own absence.

"I see. And you don't want anyone else trying to break into it, even to prove your innocence."

[notglitching]

The bristling, aggressive posture only grows more pronounced at Tron's vocal incredulity. Can't even? Of course he can't. Rinzler was perfect, and Rinzler was Clu's, and Rinzler had no need to remember, no need to look or ask or question his own role. He'd believed that, before the program across from him proved otherwise. Tron was the one who made him aware of his own limits, and he'd be crashed before letting the other program taunt him with them now.

The shift of focus is acceptable (if barely), and Rinzler's mask jerks in short confirmation. No one is allowed in his disk. Not for "repair", and certainly not for something so pointless as their trial. Besides, Rinzler can't imagine why his duplicate thinks it would help.

Not innocent.

He'd killed a user. Two, technically, even if only one had been on purpose. The enforcer would expect Tron more than anyone to realize how little difference any reason makes.