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]

Fingers curl inward at the question, the holographic keyboard projected from his MID wavering briefly under the misplaced touch. Lie seethes up through Rinzler's processing without hesitation, grinding out in low harsh beats as his noise shifts pitches toward a growl. But it's not just that. It doesn't matter. He's heard the excuse repeated down the hall, enough to know the user wouldn't let it go. It doesn't care whether the line is right or wrong, so long as it has a reason.

All the same, if the admin's trying to turn this to his fault? No. Rinzler's head jerks sideways before tipping just a little in the direction of the other cell. The glare is tangible, even through his mask.

Glitched.

[tearmeanewone]

"...he made a mistake?"

Elizabeth sighs, running her hand over her face, her expression softening into something sad and conflicted. Of course it was a misunderstanding-- those were nearly impossible to work out without someone admitting fault. Elizabeth thinks it'll be a cold day in hell when Peter says that he might have jumped the gun.

"I don't think this can be fixed, then. He's under the impression you threatened his baby sister, you say you didn't, that he inferred something that wasn't there, and given the very specific way you communicate I can almost piece together how it could have happened.

"But I don't know that anyone else will see that unless he admits he thought you meant one thing instead of another."

[notglitching]

The enforcer's glower lingers as the admin talks. He's not nearly so ready to write off everything this user says and does as a mistake. Excuse is closer to the word he'd use. It's flagged him as an animal since well before any attacks. It talked about deleting him before Rinzler even knew it had a sister.

But this user will believe what she wants to, and either way, it doesn't make a difference. Shoulders twitch in a shrug. If it can't be fixed, that's fine by him. He'll delete it next time it attacks, or he'll be derezzed.

Either option is better than the other punishment he knows is coming.

[tearmeanewone]

"No, shrugging this off isn't an option," Elizabeth looks into the middle distance, sighing as though she could push the answer out of her lungs. Unfortunately it's not that easy. "We all have to live here for the foreseeable future, we have to learn to speak clearly to one another. Somehow."

She considers that for a beat then she focuses her contemplative gaze on Rinzler again. "I think the patience of the crew only runs so long. The way I see it, you can't keep getting into these situations before the captains and the crew see you as irredeemable."

[notglitching]

The program only stares back, noise ticking out in clipped, contemptuous beats. He doesn't miss her allocation of blame—speaking clearly as the root of all the problems. His fault. Convenient, isn't it, how redeemable that makes her friend?

She's made up her mind already. And it's laughable, stupid, pointless, because Rinzler knows already. He knows he's past acceptance. He knows he'll never be allowed. He's had it spelled out more than once already, and it had been just as much a waste of words before the fight as it is now. "Something like you really has no place here." "This ship doesn't need anything rabid."

Rinzler had tried, and Rinzler had failed. He harmed a user, against the orders of his own. He's going to be wiped already, and he has no reason in the least to spend his last millicycles cringing under such an empty threat.

[tearmeanewone]

Rinzler may have pegged her comment as directed at him, but she'd leveled it conversationally at the entire crew. Everyone, everyone, failed at communicating at one point or another. A lot of conflicts in history were the results of people not speaking clearly.

So the clicking gets misinterpreted, of course. Because obviously she's talking about everybody.

"I'm not saying that it's fair, I'm saying that it's what people do. That doesn't make it the right thing to do, fear is an incredible motivator for people to do all kinds of ill-advised things. They'll think they know you well enough to say absolutely anything."