The sense of being crushed and shoved at once, utter blackness while Yori fights to blink, they're not unfamiliar. How long since Yori last felt the pressure of transit to a different system? She's been human the last two months, and travel had been forbidden by the MCP far longer.
She clutches the straps of her backpack, afraid to lose hold of the disk hidden inside.
At last blinking brings sight; a glow very like her own home system, but nothing is familiar, there's no pulse of life as there should be if she was back inside any computer at all. She's still in her User clothes, but...everything feels just different enough to make her certain she's not seeing the world through User senses now.
Where is she? It looks nothing like the trap of a school. Where's Rinzler?
"Please, do you know where we are?" she asks the closest figure, and hopes she has any chance of understanding a response.
2. Nomo #008; roommate mixer?
After several extended diversions, Yori finally follows her directions all the way to the deck and the room she's been assigned.
The door opens as promised at the touch of her finger on the pad. Inside, she counts four beds in a calmer color scheme than she'd expected from this glowing ship, and a number of books sit on low shelves.
Surely she can't be the first one here. Yori shifts the weight of her backpack on her shoulders and steps inside, looking for signs of habitation.
3. Navigation
Navigation Operations Technician sounds important. Yori worries whether it is a function she can learn to fulfill with acceptable speed. Navigating in this world seems unlikely to match any of the things she'd learned at home in the Encom system.
For her first day of work she is wearing her uniform as directed, everything non-standard left behind in her room. She tugs on the material nervously. The two layers wit their high-collared design blot out most of the light from her circuits, though there's still a distinct glow at her wrists.
She holds her head high and strides into the complex patterns of people at work. Are they all Users? She can't tell.
"I'm new here," she reports quietly to the first one who takes notice of her presence. "Where can I start?"
Yori | Tron (1982)
The sense of being crushed and shoved at once, utter blackness while Yori fights to blink, they're not unfamiliar. How long since Yori last felt the pressure of transit to a different system? She's been human the last two months, and travel had been forbidden by the MCP far longer.
She clutches the straps of her backpack, afraid to lose hold of the disk hidden inside.
At last blinking brings sight; a glow very like her own home system, but nothing is familiar, there's no pulse of life as there should be if she was back inside any computer at all. She's still in her User clothes, but...everything feels just different enough to make her certain she's not seeing the world through User senses now.
Where is she? It looks nothing like the trap of a school. Where's Rinzler?
"Please, do you know where we are?" she asks the closest figure, and hopes she has any chance of understanding a response.
2. Nomo #008; roommate mixer?
After several extended diversions, Yori finally follows her directions all the way to the deck and the room she's been assigned.
The door opens as promised at the touch of her finger on the pad. Inside, she counts four beds in a calmer color scheme than she'd expected from this glowing ship, and a number of books sit on low shelves.
Surely she can't be the first one here. Yori shifts the weight of her backpack on her shoulders and steps inside, looking for signs of habitation.
3. Navigation
Navigation Operations Technician sounds important. Yori worries whether it is a function she can learn to fulfill with acceptable speed. Navigating in this world seems unlikely to match any of the things she'd learned at home in the Encom system.
For her first day of work she is wearing her uniform as directed, everything non-standard left behind in her room. She tugs on the material nervously. The two layers wit their high-collared design blot out most of the light from her circuits, though there's still a distinct glow at her wrists.
She holds her head high and strides into the complex patterns of people at work. Are they all Users? She can't tell.
"I'm new here," she reports quietly to the first one who takes notice of her presence. "Where can I start?"