Rinzler / Tron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notglitching) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-04-13 08:09 pm
notglitching) wrote in thisavrou_log2016-04-13 08:09 pm
You can never say that I didn't try
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!]]
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:
Prose and spam both welcome!]]
no subject
Vision is another story, and Rinzler's stare comes back up at that offer. He'd told the other program as much already, but he's not sure at all the message had gotten through. There's a cautious incline of the mask—curiosity as much as any agreement. Yes, he'd like his privacy back. He's not at all sure she (or anyone) can give it, but... why is she offering?
That seemed to go a little past pain management.
no subject
"I've been in your place before," she admits, not looking up and over at him. "Sometimes your hand is forced and you have to do things that end with you locked up."
She doesn't elaborate more than that, but tries to get him to see that she knows what it's like, being on his end of things. Her desire to help comes from empathy, even though she doesn't necessarily sympathize with him. It's an odd feeling to have, one that puts her at odds with herself.
"And I know that if I had people showing up to try and help me when I didn't want it, I'd end up stabbing someone in the face."
no subject
But the last line... that's a closer fit than he'd expected. The stillness breaks, a light-lined hand flicking the MID display back on.
No weapons.
Hard to stab someone in the face when his disks and batons had been removed. Joke? Genuine complaint? Somewhere in between? It would be the first Rinzler's shown in here of having a sense of humor, but stranger things have happened.
no subject
Her smile because a little more raw, a flash of teeth that makes her look like there may be more edge to her than meets the eye. She finds humor in weird places, and finds possible allies in even stranger ones. She isn't angry with Rinzler for what's happened, and can see the value in the strength he possesses. It's not like they're going to be fighting people here, not like she did back home, but he's someone that she recognizes she would rather be fighting with than against.
"Come on, give it a try."
no subject
But somehow there aren't many ways to vent inside this cage—even assuming he wouldn't derezz himself trying. Considering how easily the skeleton had almost wiped him, Rinzler can't take that as much for granted as he'd like.